Long Road Home

by Stacey Lynn

  “You could teach me.”

  I looked at him and grinned, unable to bear the pure, beauty of the hope in his voice. “I can do that.”

  “Cool.”

  “And this is my house,” I said, pulling up to the driveway. I wasn’t intending on going inside, but I wanted him to know where I lived. Where I wanted him to spend time, too.

  “It’s enormous.”

  “I own the place, I can do whatever I want,” I said to him, winking so he knew I was kidding. I’d had the huge home built, intent on filling it with a family someday.

  Which was a kick in the gut considering I finally found mine and their home was twelve hours away.

  At that thought, I threw the SUV into reverse and backed out. “We should go get the food.”

  Ten

  Destiny

  * * *

  “I expected the house to look more packed,” Paul said. His brown eyes hadn’t left mine since he followed me into the kitchen. I hated the lost look in them.

  He was a smart man. As soon as he heard Toby say Jordan’s name, he figured out exactly who he was, so the fact he mentioned the packing as soon as the front door closed and Toby took off surprised me.

  We’d get to my lack of packing later.

  “He slept on the couch, Paul. Nothing happened if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. Paul was good looking, but it was his kind eyes and gentle smile that pulled me in so quickly. Tall, lean, and blond, he was also so damn smart he worked for NASA in their aeronautical engineering department. He once tried to explain to me what he did, but all I heard was a bunch of really big words I had no intention of figuring out.

  The only time I’d ever seen him look this sad and disappointed was when he’d asked me to marry him and I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

  “He slept on the couch,” he murmured, still processing what I’d said. I went to the counter and started a pot of coffee, the silence thickening and stretching between us. “You’re in your grandmother’s house after her funeral, with Toby’s birth father, who you never once told me a damn thing about no matter how many times I asked, and you think I give a shit he slept on the couch?”

  My arm froze mid-air where I was holding it to dump water into the coffeepot. “I didn’t like talking about him. And I didn’t know he was in town. It all just sort of happened.”

  “You made it sound like he wasn’t in the picture at all, Janey. I mean, come on!” He slammed his hands to his hips. His head bent, and he studied the floor shaking his head. “Jesus. This is huge, and you didn’t think to mention it on the phone?”

  I would have if I would have known he was planning on coming up here. Which was a lame excuse I couldn’t speak out loud. I focused on the coffee, poured the water, grabbed a filter and filled it, and then turned the button on. I was so freaking tired of having to explain all of this. It was the bed I’d made, but it didn’t make it easier.

  Technically, it was none of his business. We were broken up. But I wasn’t sure some claim to me was why Paul was so upset. Most likely it had to do with the revelation of how much I’d kept from him for so many years. Besides, being a bitch to Paul turned my stomach. He was the nicest man I knew.

  “Jordan Marx is Toby’s dad. I got pregnant right after high school and he and I were supposed to head to KU where he had a full-ride baseball scholarship. People in town hated me, would have hated my kid had they known about him, and it could have ruined his scholarship. I took off and never told him. Years later, he made the Major Leagues, Paul, played for the Rockies, and I couldn’t exactly correct my mistakes then. I could only fathom the press that would have gotten. College boy drafted and baby-momma, born from a crack addict and knocked up as a teenager, comes out of the woodwork, desperate for money.”

  His eyes had widened as I spoke and by the time I was done, his jaw went slack. After several moments of him staring at me, he finally said, “Do you realize that little rant was the most you’ve ever told me about your life growing up? People hating you, crack addict? I don’t even know what that means, Janey, and we’ve been together for three years.”

  The pain I’d inflicted gutted him to his core. It was clear in every etched feature and line on his face and the slope of his shoulders.

  “I told you I don’t like talking about it. Now you know why. It was ugly and messy and when I left, I wanted all of this behind me. I didn’t want anyone knowing that about me.”

  “I understand that. God, I get it, honey. But his dad? You couldn’t have mentioned that to me? Did you not trust me?”

  I trusted him with my life. It was that I didn’t love him the same amount. He must have seen something to that thought flash across my face because he turned around and scrubbed his face.

  “I see. Shit. All this time, all this time you kept saying you weren’t ready. You wanted to move slow for Toby, that wasn’t it at all, was it?”

  “Paul—” My voice cracked, and I turned to the coffee. With shaking hands, my pulse rushing so fast through my body, I pulled down two mugs and filled them both and set them on the counter.

  “How’d they meet?” he finally asked, still with his back to me, eyes on the small pile of boxes I’d shoved to the kitchen corner. “Did Toby know?”

  “He was at the funeral, and I swear…I swear to you I had no idea. I told you I didn’t want you to come because I didn’t want you to hear all the shit people said about me, and they said it, Paul. They whispered it and I heard it and Toby heard it. Jordan came up to us at the funeral, saw Toby, told us his name and there’d been a picture of us hanging on the walls here that Toby had seen the night before. Toby put two and two together and now…”

  “Now his dad is waking up in your house half-naked.”

  “He’s pissed and he’s trying to spend time with him and get to know him.” Tears and emotion choked me, and I covered my eyes. “I’ve screwed all of this up. With Toby, with Jordan, with you, I know that. I know I’ve done horrible things and made excruciatingly poor decisions. Now, I’m trying to figure out how to fix them.” I shrugged and caught his eyes, red and filled with his own tears behind his glasses I’d always thought made him look so damn sexy. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s all happened so fast.”

  “And yet you don’t look packed enough to return in a few days, either.”

  I closed my eyes and I fought for how to explain everything to him. I needed to grow a pair of lady balls and do what Allison suggested, what I knew was right. But why was the right thing so damn difficult?

  “Paul,” I said and lifted my head, opening my eyes. He flinched at the expression on my face.

  “You’re not coming back, are you?”

  “I talked to Toby and Allison. We’re going to stay until he needs to get back to start school, but—”

  He lifted his hand, palm out, and shook his head. “You know what hurts worse right now? Is that you didn’t even think to talk to me about this in making your decision, did you?”

  I’d thought about missing him. I’d thought about how to tell him. But no, I hadn’t considered at all discussing this with a man who had been in my life for so long. Had I really kept him that far on the sidelines? “I’m sorry. And I don’t want to hurt you further, but we’re not together anymore.”

  I’d tried to soften up the truth as much as possible. Based on the way he looked like I’d slapped him, I failed.

  “Yeah, I am, too.” He dropped his hand, studied the floor again and when he lifted his head back to me, my chest ached from the look on his face. “You were never going to be mine, were you? Not in the way I wanted. Not in the way I love you.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, to apologize again, but he shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it.”

  I was sorry. I was so damn sorry for hurting him. For having to tell him like this. It was better face-to-face than on the phone, but harder too. And strength had never been something I
excelled in.

  I’d expected more time to be able to get my shit together and handle it better than I currently was. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I pushed them away with the back of my hand.

  “I love you,” he said. “I love Toby like he was mine. I would have given you two a life where you never had to worry about anything and both of you always knew you had someone in your corner, loving you, rooting for you. I would have given you everything you wanted. I thought you breaking up with me so close after Tillie’s death…you just needed time. That wasn’t it though, was it?”

  I could barely speak. He was killing me. He looked worse. As I fought for words to say, something to make him feel better, he found his first.

  His chin shook and those tears rimming his eyes began falling. He didn’t bother wiping them away. “I want to say goodbye to Toby.”

  “Of course. You can—”

  “Don’t say I can stay in his life. That’s not fair to me or him or you. I just never thought I’d have to say goodbye to either of you.” He laughed that sad laugh that shot pain to my heart. “I should have known it was coming though, huh?”

  He didn’t want my apologies, but there was nothing else to say. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” He came to me, stepping into my space for the first time since he’d arrived, and the last time he ever would. His hand cupped the back of my neck and he yanked me to him, pressing his lips to my forehead. His body shook, and I fought so hard not to collapse into him, to wrap my arms around him and tell him I could do better. I could try harder. I could love him like he needed. But it’d be more lies thrown onto my already enormous pile and it wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Be well, Janey. I’ll miss you.”

  He pressed his lips more harshly to my forehead and stepped back forcefully. He didn’t look me in the eye as he said, “I’ll wait outside. Say my goodbyes to Toby and head back to the airport.”

  * * *

  “He’ll be okay,” Jordan said. He slid up next to where I was currently watching Toby yanking weeds out of Tillie’s backyard garden.

  What felt like a lifetime ago, they returned, and Jordan came inside with breakfast pizzas. Shortly after, Toby thundered through the house, slamming doors. He ran straight out back where he slumped himself onto a lounge chair on the back deck.

  A few minutes later, a car started and then quieted. Paul had said his goodbyes and my son was hurting. My heart ached to go to him while my body stayed frozen. What did you say to a boy who may have gained a father, but lost the only dad-figure he’d ever known?

  Jordan had settled his hand on my shoulder and said, “I’ll handle it.”

  It was my problem. Mine to deal with. My son’s heart to mend.

  Still, it had felt so damn good…Jordan touching me. His soft words. His even softer look. For once he hadn’t been radiating malice from every pore in his body. I’d nodded and let him. He wasn’t out there for long, but after saying only a few words to Toby, Jordan grabbed a bucket and took Toby to the garden.

  “Pulling weeds will make him okay?”

  “No. Pulling weeds will help him get out all his anger and emotions until he’s worn out and then he’ll be able to talk about it.”

  I slid a doubt-filled look his way.

  Jordan shrugged. “It’s a guy thing. Dad used to do it to me all the time. Any time I got pissed, he had me muck a stall. Got rid of all that shit flooding my system until I was calm.”

  At the mention of his dad, his head turned back toward the window.

  My gaze dropped to the counter. “He was a good man,” I whispered. “I’m really sorry you and Rebecca lost so much.”

  “Us too. But we got something to add back into what we’ve lost so it hurts, and I wish like hell my dad could have been around to meet Toby. I also think that having him around will go a long way to help both Rebecca and me.”

  I was glad I could give him that, even if it was my fault he hadn’t always had it. He’d brought up moving past that, though, and finding something good in the future so I didn’t apologize.

  Words weren’t going to help. Actions were.

  I gave one last glance to my boy, still scowling and ripping weeds out of mulch, tossing them into a nearby bucket like a championship game was on the line and shoved off the counter.

  “The pizza’s cold and now it’s almost lunchtime. I should warm it up.”

  “You doing okay?” Jordan asked and his question was asked so brusquely, his voice so rough, my body jolted and turned to peer at him over my shoulder.

  “What?”

  “With that guy. You okay?”

  I was more upset with using Paul for as long as I did, instead of letting him go like Allison said I should have. Seemed I had a talent for being a complete bitch to men.

  I’d do better with that.

  “I’m okay. Good news is, he’s better off, so once he realizes that, he’ll be fine, too.”

  Jordan’s lips went tight and lost color, and he opened his mouth and snapped it closed. It was probably to agree with me, but in an effort to stop being a dick, he fought it back.

  I’d bought that, too. So without him responding, I turned to the oven, turned it on and tried to ignore the heat of Jordan’s stare I felt on me every time I moved.

  I hated I liked it so much. Mostly, I desperately wanted to find some way to wash away all the anger he had buried inside him when it came to me.

  That would never happen. Now, I had to make the best of what we had, but that wouldn’t be so hard because the best we had was Toby.

  And my kid freaking rocked.

  Eleven

  Jordan

  * * *

  A divot ripped through the air, and my curses followed it. “Fuck!”

  “Easy, killer,” Ryan said, tapping his golf ball onto a tee close to me. “You keep tearing up your own driving range and it’s going to cost a fortune to fix.”

  “Shut up, Ry.” I scooped another ball toward my own tee with my five-iron.

  “We going to talk about the elephant on the range? Or we going to pretend you’re not strung tight over Destiny being back?”

  Currently, I wanted to drink a bottle of really old, really good whiskey and pretend the last ten days of my life hadn’t been turned upside down. Ever since Destiny returned, I’d spent almost every day over at her place. I went to work, thought about Toby. I worked out and thought about Toby. I went to Tillie’s after I was done with work and spent time with Toby. Sometimes Destiny joined us. Sometimes she left to run errands or made herself scarce in order to give us time alone.

  But at night, when I went to sleep, I wasn’t thinking about Toby. Thoughts of Destiny infiltrated my brain, making sleep not only difficult but worse once I hit dreamland. My body seemed to have forgotten how much my brain and my heart hated her, because my body? It was thinking of all sorts of scenarios where Destiny wasn’t the evil witch who’d kept my son from me for a decade. Nope, at night, in my dreams and frequently first thing in the morning, my dick very much liked all that we were seeing in Destiny these days.

  It wasn’t just screwing with my head and my ability to work…it was messing with my golf game. Which really pissed me off.

  “Back off, Ryan,” Shawn said, lining up his own shot behind me. “Focus on hitting your own damn ball.”

  “Please,” Ryan said. “Like he didn’t demand we haul our asses out to the range this early in the morning for practice. Man’s got shit on his mind.”

  “Didn’t know you were suddenly a therapist,” I mumbled and loosened the grip on my golf club. I knew exactly why I kept slicing the damn ball and tearing up the turf. My fucking shoulders were too damn tight and this relaxing morning at the range with Ryan and Shawn was turning into a shitshow.

  Ryan turned and rested his weight on his driver. “I’m a servant of the community, Mr. Marx. And that service comes in a variety of forms.”

  Good Lord. He’d always been a dumbass. “You’re a moron.”

&n
bsp; “I’m a guy who gets it on the regular from his wife and you sir, are all twisted up over a woman who you’re pissed at but still want to bang into the next decade.”

  He lifted his club and swirled it in a circle. “And no, I’m not a psychic. I’m smarter than you give me credit for. You’re wearing your lust for her all over your face.”

  He had to shut up.

  Behind me, Shawn’s club hit his own golf ball and it flew into the air with that beautiful hissing sound of a perfect shot.

  “Nice shot,” I said, my eyes down the range. It flew over three hundred yards and landed perfectly in the center of the range area.

  “Thanks,” Shawn said, teeing up another ball. “You know he’s right though. The question is more about what are you going to do about it?” He didn’t lift his eyes as he spoke. He teed up his ball and swung another perfect shot. Damn him for being so calm while I was a big ol’ tight ball of built-up sexual frustration.

  “She’s a bitch. And I still hate her,” I mumbled. I swung, slammed my club against the ball and it hooked far to the left. “Goddamn it!”

  “Which also means you want in her pants.”

  I lifted my club like a baseball bat and pulled back, aiming right at Ryan’s head. “Knock it off.”

  He lifted his hands, laughing. “Oh come on. You’re pissed. We all get it. You get to be pissed. But you’re not fooling us either. Just lay it all out there.”

  I should have gone to the batting cage to work out my stress. Or a boxing gym. I should have gone to the city for the weekend and found a woman I could use to slake that need to get rid of all the built-up rage.

  I lowered my iron and hit it against the grass. “Yeah. I’m pissed at her. I’m pissed that I get to see Toby for a few hours a day, maybe, and I have no idea when they’re leaving. I’m pissed she has all the control in the situation and fine…if you want to hear it…I’m even more fucking pissed I still find her attractive. How can that even fucking be after everything she’s done? I should hate her. That would be easy and make sense. What doesn’t…is all of this other shit I’m feeling.”