Meet Me Halfway(42)

He trailed off, removing a pack from his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t fucking breathe. I knew how those stories played out, how it’d played out not only for me, but for Jamie. And my heart ached for the child Garrett was and what he might have witnessed.

“Anyway, my point is that I can guarantee without a shadow of a doubt, I wouldn’t have turned out half as good as I did if I’d had to live with my dad. A kid can be born happy, but it’s the love they receive that teaches their heart to be gentle.”

He glanced at me, and a faint blush painted his cheeks when he saw me blatantly staring at him. There was a whole lot more to this man than I’d have ever guessed after our first few interactions. I’d gotten a glimpse of the cinnamon roll hiding underneath his sexy, stoic coating, and I liked it.

I smiled and gave in to my urge, tipping my head to rest against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, voice gruff, but he didn’t pull away.

Finally experiencing a touch of contentment, I watched his fingers roll the cigarette back and forth. “You know, not to be a mom or anything, but you really shouldn’t smoke.”

He huffed, curling his fist around it. “I haven’t lit one in almost two weeks.”

That would explain the unlit one the other night, I supposed. “Does holding one help with the craving?”

He shifted, and my head rose and fell with the slight movement of his shoulder. “Gives me an excuse to sit outside.”

I nodded against him but wasn’t sure what he meant. Why would someone need an excuse to be outside? Unless what that someone actually wanted, was an excuse to see if his neighbor was outside. I brushed the errant thought away. The idea was ridiculous.

We sat there like that, neither feeling the need to speak, until the sound of my front door opening had me shooting up. It was just Layla. She stepped out, coming up short when she saw us on the stairs, and her eyebrows met her hairline.

Seeing Garrett had stood and stretched out his hand, I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.

“I better go inside. Here—” I grabbed the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over my head before folding it in half and holding it out to him. Left in the brisk air with only a thin top, I shivered. “Thanks for lending it to me. Sorry I smeared my tears all over it.”

He stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it. His eyes dipped to where I nonchalantly tried to hide my peaked nipples, and his fists tightened around the fabric.

“No problem.” The words came out sharp like a curse, and I frowned. Why did he look angry?

“Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Madison.”

I watched him walk off, aware of Layla’s demanding ass behind me. Shaking off Garrett’s sudden change in behavior, I turned to see her texting. “What’s up?”

She shot me a glare. “I told Rick I can’t come after all. I’m heading to pick up some wine. Get inside and sit your ass on the couch. You have tea to spill.”





Chapter Twelve





If there’s anything you shouldn’t do while tired, it’s play Battleship. Literally nothing knocks you out faster. I stared at the red and white markers, seeing double of everything as my eyesight went unfocused.

“I think you sank my last ship, but honestly I can’t make out the rows anymore so I’m not sure.”

“That’s just another way of saying you suck at this game.”

I arched an eyebrow, peering at Jamie over the top of the game. “Respect your mother, I suck at nothing.”

He giggled.

“Trust me, bud, if there’s anything your mom isn’t, it’s a sucker.”

I blinked, turning my head with horror-film slowness to my best friend, currently curled up with the dogs on the couch, strumming her guitar.

Picking up a carrot stick from our snack bowl, I threw it at her face—missing completely. “You do enough of that for the both of us.”

“And it is glorious!” She threw her arms in the air, terrifying both dogs awake.

Jamie looked up from his board, “Why would sucking at something be glorious? I hate being bad at stuff.”

I burst out laughing, absorbing the moment of joy so I could bask in it later. “Never grow up, bud. You’re perfect just like this.”

“O-kay.”

“Perfect!” I slammed my game board shut, or as shut as it could be with pieces still in place. “Now let’s play Twister or something.”

He folded his arms across his chest, frowning. “You squished me to death last time.”

“But did you die?” Stretching my limbs and groaning, I rolled onto my back to sit up, but ended up lying there like a chalk silhouette of a dead body.

“Mom. Come on. One more game.”

“I’m exhausted. Plus, I went through the effort to sign you up for soccer today, so I’ve done my parental duties for the day. I’m calling in sick now.” I flopped to my side, slowly pushing up into a sitting position like a half-dead mermaid.

He rolled his eyes, turning to the love of his life, “Layla, do you want to play a game of Battleship?”

“Depends, do you want to cry?” She gave him a grin I could only describe as predatory as she got up and moved to take my place.