Dakota decided it was her place to say something. For the record, it wasn’t. “Rachel—”
“No.” Rachel turned to Dakota. “If those dogs were your idea, then they can come live at your house.” Rachel brushed by Gavin’s fiancée. “But we both know that won’t happen, because you travel too much,” Rachel said to herself. The pettiness felt indulgent for a change.
Once in the dining room, she pushed the French doors closed, shut the blinds, shoved her hands on her hips, and paced from one wall to the other.
“Rachel,” Gavin said in that placating way he had. The one she’d thought was cute the night he took her home and knocked her up. Before the exhaustion of twins. There wasn’t time for Gavin’s cute anymore. She had a birthday party to get back to, and she had two kids, and two dogs, and an ex-mother-in-law who— Fine, Evelyn was getting a pass, since she was totally helping. But the rest of them needed her.
“You gave them dogs,” she said finally, tossing her hands wide.
Gavin didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to explain to me why you sent our children animals?” She expanded on her previous statement.
Gavin didn’t sit. Instead, he pulled out one of the high-backed dining room chairs that looked really nice but stained really easily, crossed his arms over the back, and stared at the seat. “You always said you loved dogs. Golden retrievers, as I recall, are your favorite.”
Wait. Oh damn.
Dammit.
She took in a quick breath. Her heart pausing for three solid seconds.
He’d remembered that?
Even she’d forgotten that.
She let out a long breath of air.
He was not wrong, and, apparently, he had been paying some attention to her when she spoke.
“I do love dogs. And yes, on the golden retrievers.” She crossed her arms, but most of the anger fizzled away as she began to understand that he hadn’t gone off half-cocked. He’d apparently listened to her the one time she’d said something without thinking it through. “But this is the type of thing we talk about before you go balls deep and have two of them delivered.”
He raised his gaze to hers, his eyes pinning her. They were the same brown as Travis’s and Dave’s, but his were darker.
“I thought you’d like the surprise,” he said. “You’ve always loved surprises.”
Dammit. Correct again. Except…
“I love it when people bring me margaritas unannounced. I love it when your dad drops random chocolate deliveries. I love it when—”
“You said you love surprises, Rach. All the time.” He pressed his hands against his hips. “I thought you’d love this surprise. I mean, when we were together, all you talked about was getting dogs. Two of them. One for each of the boys.”
“I didn’t mean…” She thought back on that first year with the boys. She’d wanted so much back then. That was before she learned the motherly art of settling for what she could get. There was a conversation when the boys were really little, she started talking about dogs, and… “Shit.”
“I should’ve talked to you. That’s on me.” He didn’t apologize, but his tone said it for him.
“You should’ve talked to me about the summer sabbatical, too.” She held his brown eyes with her blue ones and felt…nothing.
He stood straight. “Did Mom talk to you? I asked her to wait until you and I could find time to communicate about it.”
Rachel pulled out a chair and sat. “No, your mother sent your brothers.”
“Fuck.” He sat in the chair he’d been leaning against, their knees nearly touching but not quite.
“When were you going to tell me that you aren’t taking the boys this summer?” she asked.
“As soon as we could have a conversation alone.”
She waved an arm around the room. “We’re alone.”
They were. Funny thing, she couldn’t really remember a time when they’d been alone since he’d proposed to Dakota.
That was odd. It was odd, right?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dakota has a four-week gallery thing. I’m going with her. It’s important to her and it’s important to me.”
Rachel’s blood cooled. For herself, for Evelyn, for her boys. “What about what’s important to your kids?”
The kids who looked forward to going to the lake house with their dad each summer? Who talked about it nonstop starting in freaking February?
“I’m trying here, Rach.” He looked up then and she saw it, saw the man who was genuinely trying and somehow managed to screw it all up anyway.
She wanted to hug him. But that was no longer her place. Not anymore.
“Then try harder,” she said instead of offering comfort.
She wasn’t his wife anymore. Her priorities were to her children and herself.
“The kids can’t go without one of us. Your mom will fill them with sugar, your dad will teach them to smoke cigars, and Travis will teach them how to tree surf. Even Dave will get in on that.” She ran her hands through her hair, gripping the strands at her skull.
“Can you go for me, Rach? Just this time?” Gavin asked. “You can work from anywhere. And you deserve the break.”
Break? This was not going to be a break.
She looked up, turning her eyes to slits she hoped would have the right effect on him. “Seriously?”
Gavin ran his hands over his hair. “If you can help me out this time, I’d be really grateful.”
Just what she needed—Gavin’s gratitude. It filled her up and made all the sarcasm come right out.
“Gavin, there’s no more of me left to give,” she said, because there wasn’t.
He said nothing in return because…dammit, she was going to go to the lake.
“I’m not saying yes,” she added quietly. “Yet.”
He grinned his Gavin grin. “But you will.”
“I’ll figure something out.” She always figured something out. Which, they both knew, meant, yes-but-I’m-not-willing-to-admit-it-yet.
The French doors squeaked, and Travis gently set one puppy and then the other on the hardwood.
How long had he been there?
“Don’t mind me, they were just…uh…they finished their little project outside.” He flashed Rachel and Gavin a grin and then, for what seemed like good measure, gave them two thumbs up. Gah, did he ever take anything seriously?
Thankfully, he left as quickly as he’d shown up, pulling the squeaky door closed behind him.
“Rach.” Gavin lifted Re-Pete when he tried to climb his leg. “I want to be here for the boys.”
“Then be here.”
He studied the puppy, not lifting his eyes to Rachel’s. “But I also want to respect what you need and what I need.”
Look at this, communication was the bomb. She told her clients the same thing all the time. Communication opened pathways you never knew existed.
“Then help me out sometimes,” she said. “Even when it’s not your weekend for them to come to your house.”
Gavin nodded and set Re-Pete back on the ground. The pup immediately whined for him. “Can the boys come hang with me tonight? I wanted to ask, but then I wanted to ask in person and then the whole puppy thing and you being pissed thing…”
Yes, they could totally go spend the night with their dad but, “Where the boys go, the puppies go.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded, a barely there smile at the corners of his mouth. “You don’t mind them spending their birthday night with me?”
Did she mind? No.
Did she care? Of course. Their birthday was important to her, but if Gavin was willing to try, she could use a break from the puppies. It might mean a lot to the boys also to be with their dad.
Bonus, if they were at their dad’s house, then she could
sleep.
Sleep sounded wonderful. Maybe it’d even be uninterrupted, and she’d turn off her cell phone and forward client calls to her answering service.
It’d practically be a momcation.
“I think the boys would really like that,” she said.
That got her a Gavin grin. The good kind. The full kind. The kind that had the power to make a woman change her mind about (nearly) anything.
“We good?” he asked.
“You’re going to take the dogs frequently.” It was both a question and a confirmation. Mostly a confirmation.
“I’ll even come by and walk them.” He made an X with his finger over his heart, just like she often did.
She held out her hand. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Frank.”
“Likewise, Ms. Gibson.” He took her hand and gave it a shake, studying her. His expression reminded her of something that had made sense once upon a time, but now it didn’t quite click.
That expression was not the stuff of happily ever afters, and the realization smacked her in the chest like a full-grown golden retriever chasing its ball.
“How many people do you think are at the door listening?” she asked, hopefully distracting him from whatever he was thinking that made his eyes warm like that.
She released his hand and gestured to the closed doorway.
“All of them, if I had to guess,” he said, seriously.
She smiled. “Should we give them a minute to scurry away?”
“You’re too nice, Rach.” He gave her a smile that made her glad he was the father of her children because, maybe, they’d inherit an ounce of his magnetism.
Without further comment, he pulled open the door.
Evelyn was wiping down the picture frames in the hallway, a bottle of Windex in one hand and a microfiber cloth in the other.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Things are great.” Gavin showcased his charisma-soaked smile. The one that somehow made Rachel experience a solid bout of nostalgia. Not in the romantic way. More like reminiscent of the girl she’d been before kids, before the mortgage, before clients, before responsibility ran smack over the top of her.
“You convinced Rachel to come to the lake?” Evelyn asked, hope clear in her tone.
“Don’t push it, Mom.” Gavin patted her arm as he started to move past, but with an ease of obvious practice, he herded his mother along beside him.
That was nice. Really nice.
The smile. The nice. Together they nearly had Rachel wondering why on earth she and Gavin hadn’t worked.
Then her toe was wet. She glanced at her foot. Her big toe was being munched on by Pete as though the red nail polish were super delish.
Right. That right there was why they hadn’t worked.
Gavin never really understood who Rachel was. How an offhand comment about puppies didn’t mean she wanted them delivered seven years later.
She picked up the culprit currently licking her feet. Apparently, not wanting to be left out, Re-Pete quickly bounded toward her. She picked him up, too.
“I guess you boys are staying,” she said, stroking their fur while keeping her focus on Evelyn and Gavin as they moved to the kitchen.
The dogs were staying and she was…well, whatever this was, she wasn’t sure she liked it.
Chapter Five
“You know you’re a mom of a boy when you have to constantly tell them to put their penis away or to stop farting in your face.” — Brandi, Michigan, USA
Travis
Travis happened to know firsthand that Gavin worked out-of-control hours and traveled on business every weekend he didn’t have his kids—sometimes even when he was supposed to have them. The one thing Gavin did not do was apologize.
Travis could remember maybe three times when he’d heard an apology from his oldest brother. All three of those times were hoisted on him by their mother’s insistence. And as soon as she left the room, Gavin took them back.
So it made no sense when in the middle of the ground-beef, mad-scientist, taco-palooza snack bar Rachel had put together—Gavin apologized. But there he’d been apologizing to Rachel. Mom, Dad, and everyone else heard what sounded to be his sincere apology for administering an unexpected dose of canines the night before.
Gavin didn’t even take it back when Mom went inside.
Which meant…something was up with his brother.
Maybe Rachel’s agreement to go to the lake struck some kind of hole in the always-right façade of his older brother. For the record, it wasn’t eavesdropping on his brother and his ex if a guy was returning puppies.
Travis decided to noodle on that later. First he had a party to enjoy. And now he had some retribution to dish out—Frank style. He moseyed right up to the twins’ bedroom and found the kid he was searching for.
“You know what you should take to your dad’s?” Travis asked Kellan.
He could’ve gone with Brady, but Kellan was probably a better bet once Travis planted this particular little seed.
Brady had a lot more people pleasing in him. Kellan was more about doing what pleased him.
“What?” Kellan glanced up from the overnight bag he was filling with birthday presents and other related loot.
“Those recorders you showed me last week after your baseball game. I happen to know your dad loves music. He’ll think they’re fun.” Travis chucked his nephew on the shoulder.
Rachel emerged from the boys’ closet with a couple of pairs of pajamas. She blinked hard at Travis, as though trying to figure out where he’d come from.
“I know he particularly likes music right when he wakes up. So be sure you play them first thing in the morning. Bonus points if you manage to do it before he’s out of bed.”
This was not a fib. Gavin would think the recorders were fun—for five seconds—because, damn, the screeching noises those so-called instruments let off would make him pull his hair out just enough, but not so much that Travis felt like a jerk for suggesting it.
Besides, served him right for showing up late. And for cutting down the tree Travis had been climbing when they were teenagers. And for dumping over Travis’s canoe last summer at the lake. Twice. The first time could’ve been an accident. The second time definitely screamed of malicious intent.
“Oh, and you should take that sand stuff.” Rachel handed over a bucket filled with multicolored sand packets meant for layering into plastic jars. Travis had a hunch the boys wouldn’t be filling jars with the sand but would probably wind up in a sand war, stuffing it in each other’s clothes, on bedsheets, and in various other annoying crevices.
At least, that’s what Travis would’ve done with his brothers when they were that age. Bonus points if you could manage to get the sand wet first. Double bonus points if you got it stuck in the other guy’s shorts.
He had a hunch Rachel knew the sand thing had that kind of potential. Sending it to their dad’s house held a note of brilliance.
“Uncle Travis is right, Dad loves music. The puppies would probably love to sing karaoke with you, too,” Rachel suggested, catching Travis’s gaze with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “You should take that with you.”
Kellan nodded with all the enthusiasm of a kid given permission to shove sand down his brother’s shorts and wake everyone up to his rendition of the best of Justin Bieber.
Travis smirked.
Yeah, Rachel knew exactly what she was doing.
He gave her a subtle go-on-ahead nod. The knowledge that his little recorder idea might cause a little sand in Gavin’s shorts warmed him like he was sitting on a beach in summer.
“Great idea, Mom.” Kellan scrambled to put everything into a pile.
“I’ve got your number on this one,” Travis murmured to Rachel from the side of his mouth.
She l
ifted a shoulder and nibbled at her bottom lip. “You inspired me with the recorder idea.”
“I have a unique set of skills.” Travis leaned against the doorway so he wasn’t in her personal space. They were getting along great, and he didn’t want to fuck that up.
“I’ve heard about your unique set of skills.” Rachel crossed her arms. “Gavin told me all about them.”
Travis just bet. He studied her face, searching for details, but none emerged. His back teeth set on edge.
“Which particular skills are you referring to this time?” Rachel asked.
He filed away a mental note to quiz her sometime about exactly what Gavin had told her and when and why.
“Not only can I come up with unique ways to drive my brother nuts, I also have the ability to help the boys forget some of this shi—” He caught himself, since Kellan was possibly within hearing distance. “Stuff at Gavin’s place.”
“If you make it so those recorders stay at Gavin’s house, I’ll totally owe you.”
“How big are we talkin’?” Travis asked.
The wicked gleam was back, and he liked it. A lot. “Pretty big. I mean, that would be quite the feat.”
“Big enough you’ll come along to Twin Lakes?” He couldn’t help it. Rachel should come and, as a bonus, if she agreed here, he could take full credit for getting her to tag along.
Everyone would end up a winner, except Gavin would be dealing with recorders, puppies, sand, and karaoke.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “You’re so much like your mother, it’s scary.”
“You mean I adore your children and don’t want them to miss the best summer ever?” he asked, hoping she understood that he was being totally serious with this insistence. “Then, yes, I’m exactly like my mother.”
Without the penchant for wearing hot pink and sleeping with his hair in curlers.
“To be clear, there will be no tree surfing.” She crossed her arms.
He huffed. “You take things way too seriously.”
“And maybe you don’t take anything seriously enough.” With that parting shot, she shooed her boys down the stairs.
Rachel, Out of Office Page 6