At that point, Trixie gets up and pads out the room. Her whine comes from down the hallway, and a scratching at the back door, signalling she needs to go out. It’s music to my ears—a saviour from this moment and I leap at it.
‘One second,’ I say, excusing myself and heading through the archway to where Trixie waits patiently. I open the door, letting her out to do her business, and seat myself in one of the chairs as I wait, savouring the fresh and calmer air out here.
A light flashes in the corner of my eye, and when I look down to discover its source, I find Honey’s phone on thechair beside me, screen brightening as several texts come through. She probably forgot she left it out here after we took some pictures of Noah and Trixie enjoying the snow this morning.
I don’t mean to read it as I scoop it up with the intention to bring it back inside for her, but there’s two words that snag my attention and have my mind clinging to it even as I try to force myself to pocket the phone.
Apartment viewing.
The words whirl about my mind as I clench the phone in my fist. I chance another quick look at the screen, almost with the belief that if I check the whole thing I might realise I misread it before. I only see one of the texts, whatever ones that came before piled beneath on her screen, but it confirms enough.
I don’t know why my mouth sours. Why my hands suddenly feel clammy, her phone slipping in my grip. I shove it back in my pocket just as Trixie bounds up the stairs to go inside, if anything with the hopes it’ll rid me of the roiling in my stomach. I head back inside, fingernails digging into my palms.
It’s what we agreed, after all—she would stay here until she found a place to buy for her and Noah. Except, deep down, I guess I hoped that I could make enough of something here, at Lucky Star for her and Noah, to encourage them to stay. I thought this was what she wanted.
Silly of me, though, I suppose. For hoping. Never did really work for me in the past—
No, Sawyer. Don’t do that.
It’s fine. This is what we agreed. We’re taking things slow.
Even if we did say I love you last night.
Dinner is a needed and delicious distraction after such an awkward day, even if Gray does decide to go on about Avery’s accomplishments and their life of freedom every chance he gets. When we finally finish food, I offer to clear up, letting everyone talk and giving my overloaded mind a break.
But, of course, it only lasts a minute because Gray also decides to help and joins me in the kitchen. I don’t say anything, just stack the plates in the sink, ready to be washed up as he places more on the sides.
‘The, uh, drawings are a nice touch,’ he begins, eyes scouring the illustrations covering the archway when I turn to him. His frown is the deepest I’ve seen it today. ‘Not sure it’s the best thing to be teaching kids to draw on the walls, though.’
Yeah, well,my house, my fucking rules.
I swallow down a deep breath, remembering that this is Noah’s dad and as much as he’s pissed me off today, Honey wouldn’t want me to cause a scene. Even if it’s disgust that paints his face as he eyes up a memory that meant so much to me.
‘Me and Honey did most of them actually.’
‘Oh, sorry, man. My mistake,’ he says, then mutters to himself, ‘Don’t know what she’s doing with her life.’
The frayed thread that was my patience for Gray snaps then and I welcome the icy rage that seeps into my bones as I level my cold, unyielding stare on him. The kind I like to throw on when I know I’m about to risk my life to ride.
‘Look, Gray,’ I start, folding my arms purely with the intention to emphasise my muscles because I’m a dick. ‘I appreciate that you’re probably trying to warm Noah up to Avery or something but you gotta quit with the boasting and insulting Honey. It’s rude and unfair.’
His head rears back like I’ve just slapped him. ‘What I do for my kid has nothing to do with you.’
My brow furrows. Okay, that’s not exactly what I meant—
‘In fact, I’d rather you stayed as far out of my kid’s business as you can.’ Gray steps closer then, which only emphasises the inchesIhave over him. Still, it’s taunting. ‘I’m grateful that you’ve given them a place to stay, but I know what you’re like, Sawyer. I only need to search your name and the articles and pictures that come up tell me enough. You aren’t exactly a good role model for Noah, even if he is into all this cowboy shit right now, which he’ll grow out of eventually.’
I almost want to laugh—doesn’t he realise I know that? Doesn’t he understand that I lament over the choices I’ve made in life, the scars beneath these clothes, wishing I could’ve been a better person so I didn’t have to drag that with me to Honey and Noah?
A high-pitched ringing fills my ears, along with the distant whisper ofnot good enough for them.
‘This life you’ve got going on—’ he gestures to the darkened ranch outside as evening descends on us ‘—isn’t the kind I want my kid brought up on. It’s dirty and unsafe. I don’t need him breaking his leg too because you’ve got him running around with cows.’
My head pounds like thunder, a storm of endless,crippling thoughts rumbling through it now. Almost too loud to gather up the words to argue back. But what’s clear is that I want to fight for Noah, for the life he could have here.
‘You wouldn’t think it was weird if you could see how happy your son is on this ranch. The courage he’s built in merely a couple of months here.’
Like it’s where he’s meant to be.