The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2)(16)

And last, I’d learned he had a singular talent of putting up with me because I was part of the Izzy Package, and from what Deanna was saying, clearly hiding he was doing it.

Though he really dug my kid.

So that was something.

“He called you baggage?” Deanna asked incredulously.

“He didn’t use that word, but he did tell Bryce I had heavy shit I was dealing with,” I told her.

“That’s a lot different than calling you baggage, Addie.”

“Well, Bryce obviously asked him if he was going there and he’d said I had heavy shit, and while I was sorting it out, I didn’t need to get hooked up with a wanderer who might not stick around. I needed something steady, so he wasn’t interested.”

“And again, that’s a lot different than saying you were baggage and he avoided baggage,” Deanna kept to her theme.

“Maybe to a woman who’s been married for years to the love of her life, Deanna, but out here in the world of the single woman . . . no, the single mom, what he said translated means he’s not interested . . . at all.”

“I’m not sure—” she began.

“Do you think a Gamble man wouldn’t go for what he wanted no matter what?” I asked.

Deanna didn’t have a response to that.

This was because we both knew a Gamble man went for what he wanted no matter what.

Hell, Iz had Johnny’s ginormous rock on her finger, was living with him and he’d had stables especially built for her horses at his property, and they hadn’t even been seeing each other for a year.

Yeah.

A Gamble man went after what he wanted, locked it down, and then . . . onward.

“Listen, I’m not saying anything against Toby,” I spoke into her silence. “I get it. He’s not into me. That’s understandable. I am baggage. And Deanna, you have to remember, I watched this kind of thing happen with my mom over and over again. After my dad, she looked for love. She had an open and hopeful heart. She wanted that for herself. She wanted stability for her girls. And she got knocked down again and again by guys who wanted in her pants but wanted nothing to do with some other man’s kids. At least Toby’s honest about it. That genuinely says good things about him. Really good. And I appreciate it.”

This was a total lie.

I did not appreciate it.

I was attracted to Toby Gamble.

I wanted to taste his mouth and other parts of him.

I wanted to feel his skin and see what his body looked like under those tees and jeans.

I wanted to fuck him. I wanted that to be wild and intense and so enthralling, the world ceased to exist, all of it, except what we were doing to each other and how it was making us feel.

I wanted to sleep beside him.

I wanted to wake up next to him.

I wanted to feel his arms around me. Not like they were that terrible afternoon when I’d sobbed into his neck and he’d carried me to Izzy’s bed or that other, far more terrible afternoon when my baby had been stolen from me.

I just wanted him to hold me.

I wanted Brooklyn to grow up with a man like Toby Gamble. Not just as his somewhat uncle who would lift him high and make him fly or let him crawl all over him when we were at a diner eating burgers just because me and my son were there, and he was a decent guy who liked kids. But as a guy who was always there, eventually showing my boy the way in matters his mother could not.

I wasn’t in love with him.

But I knew if he gave me even the barest hint he’d even think of going there with me, I’d take that fall.

And when I did, if it didn’t work, I also knew it would annihilate me.

Perry had been about me finding my father. As much as I wanted to deny that truth, looking back, I could not.

When I’d met him—with the edge he’d convinced me he’d had, the rock ’n’ roll dreamer who could murder a guitar riff and rasp out a thumping song—the rebel in me was convinced I could walk in my mother’s footsteps but do it right.

I’d learned like I always learned.

You couldn’t tell me dick.

I had to fuck up and then I’d know.

And never do it again.

Now, I had a son.

And he was everything.

I couldn’t take those risks anymore. Especially not the ones involving my heart.

I couldn’t learn lessons the hard way.

Because Brooks would be forced to take those knocks with me.

And that could not happen.

So Toby Gamble built his wall.

And I was gonna stay on my side.

For Brooklyn.

And for Izzy.

Also for Johnny.

For me.

And last, for Toby.

“I’m not sure you’re reading this sitch right, baby girl,” Deanna said gently.

“I am,” I replied firmly. I went back to matching socks and assured, “It’s okay. I’m okay. Is the man beautiful? Yeah. Is he a good guy? Totally. In a dream world would I think about going there? For sure. But I don’t live in a dream world, honey. I live in the real world. Always have. The only time I strayed off that path was when I took a shot with Perry. And I can’t say that was a total loss, because I have Brooks. So in the end, it’s all good.”

At least that was true.

From what the utility bills I’d opened that night told me, and what that would mean to my bank balance and my ability to buy my son Christmas presents, and, say . . . food, many wouldn’t think that was the case.