Coalescence

by J. C. Hannigan

  This was so unlike my sister, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “Aw, Kels. I’m sure that’s a normal reaction to having to deal with Janice. I mean, I had that reaction, and I only spent the afternoon in her company. What did she do now?”

  “She called the florist to change the flower order to something more elegant. She’s been even more unbearable since she was proven right about the dress.” Tears of frustration welled up in Kelsey’s eyes, and I hurried over to her, thrusting one of the glasses of wine at her. “Thanks,” she sighed, taking it while wiping at her cheeks with her other hand.

  “Did you pick the dress to appease her, Kels?” I asked gently, pulling the chair beside her out so I could join her at the table.

  “No, I didn’t,” Kelsey shook her head back and forth. “But that doesn’t mean that she’s right about everything else.”

  “You’re right. You need to set some boundaries,” I put my hand on her shoulder and spoke softly, offering her a hesitant smile. “Well really, Elliott should set them since it’s his mother who’s over-stepping.”

  “Yeah, well. You know Elliott.” Kelsey sighed again, pausing to take a sip of wine. “He hates confrontation.”

  “You love confrontation. Besides, you’re practically a lawyer,” I reminded her, reaching for the stack of envelopes and cards.

  “Paralegal assistant is not practically a lawyer,” my sister responded. “And I can’t hurt her feelings. She’s his mom.”

  “But she’s hurting your feelings and overstepping. She’s making what should be a really exciting time a miserable experience for you,” I pointed out, pulling Kelsey’s binder toward me and opening it. I removed the first page of guest addresses and set to work. “Just imagine how bad it’s going to be down the road…when you’re having a baby, and she’s all up in your space, trying to call the shots during delivery.”

  Kelsey shuddered. “You’re right,” she sighed.

  “Pardon? Could you say that again? I didn’t quite hear you.” I grinned.

  “You’re right.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head a little before she took another sip of wine.

  “It’s an almost unheard of occurrence, but miracles happen every day.”

  “Speaking of miracles…how’s Thor?”

  “Still a gift from the gods.” I smirked, masking the teetering sensation his name evoked.

  “So casual is still working for you?” Kelsey asked, air quoting casual.

  “It is,” I insisted, focusing my attention on the envelope.

  “So…you aren’t planning on admitting that you’ve got it bad for him, then?”

  “I don’t have it bad for him,” I shrugged, moving on to the next address on the list, my calligraphy pen gliding across the envelope.

  “I can always tell when you lie, and you’re totally lying. Why do you deny it? What’s the harm in liking him?”

  I huffed, not looking up from my task. “There’s nothing wrong with liking him, Kelsey. It’s a complicated situation, and I don’t even know if I’m ready for another relationship.”

  “Stop being a chicken shit. Erik was never supposed to be your forever love. He was a filler love, and you know that.”

  “This isn’t even about Erik. There’s more to it than that,” I frowned, feeling vulnerable. “I insisted on casual, and that’s what he needs right now, too. It’s what we both need.”

  “Casual is just a prettier word for an excuse,” my sister declared. “It’s either an excuse to keep things open or an excuse to keep people at a distance.”

  “Did you want to argue about my sex life or get these invitations done?” I snipped.

  “I would like to do both, actually.” My sister smirked.

  Heaving a sigh, I leaned against the back of my chair and crossed my arms. “You’re relentless, Kels. Fine. I like him. I like him a lot. I’ve never felt the way he makes me feel. I mean, it’s completely opened my eyes to how lacking my relationship with Erik really was.”

  “So, why aren’t you guys together?” she asked, blinking at me.

  “Because.” I bit down on my bottom lip, my brow furrowing. “Alaric has a daughter.”

  “Ah.” Kelsey nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. She was quiet, watching me as I picked up the pen and resumed writing out the invitations. “Is that…not something you want, then? A guy with a kid?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” I spat, appalled. “I don’t mind that he’s a father. His daughter is really sweet. But…” I trailed off, not knowing how to voice my concerns.

  “It’s him.”

  “It’s both of us,” I corrected, exasperated. “We’ve both been hurt, and—“

  “And nothing, if you’ve both been hurt then who better to be with? Someone who will think twice before hurting you.”

  I nodded, pursing my lips. Kelsey made a fair point, but my insecurities always ended up holding me back. What if Alaric didn’t have time for a relationship with me?

  Alaric

  I ran the sander along the grain, smoothing what would be the surface of the coffee table I was working on. If I could build it, I did, and creating a coffee table took minimum materials and offered a distraction.

  Usually.

  When the wood was polished, I stained it, Gwen’s dimpled smile infiltrating my thoughts.

  I wondered what she was doing, and tried to ignore the simple truth that I missed her. Having her around would make everything about today better.

  I’d spent the last two days in the shop, cutting and welding the support beams that had been cut six inches short the first time around.

  Russell was notably stressed, and his mood affected the other workers in the shop. I understood his frustration completely—two fuck ups on one job wasn’t good for business. I took his mood with a grain of salt, as it wasn’t my fuck ups that led us there.

  I was the one working overtime to fix the mistakes.

  Tonight, I’d wanted to stop in and see her before I headed home. I would have, but she texted me as I was climbing into my truck to tell me her sister had stopped by.

  So, I’d come home, and I’d been in the garage ever since; Tig snoring on the concrete in front of the open door, working on this table, thinking about her and trying not to.

  Tig let out a rumbling sigh as I walked by him to rinse the brush. The table would have to dry before I could attach it to the metal frame, which meant there wasn’t much else to do on the project.

  I tapped the wet brush against the side of the shop sink, setting it to the side to dry before washing my hands.

  I was just shutting off the lights in the garage when the sound of gravel crunching against tires had my head swiveling to the driveway. Gwen’s little red car pulled to a stop beside mine, and she climbed out, her pouty lips tugging into a slight frown as she hesitated.

  The grin that spread across my face was immediate and easy. Her mere presence had loosened the tightness in my chest. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” I teased, stalking toward her. I was really glad that she hadn’t.

  “Must be that special vitamin D,” she retorted as my hand slipped around her waist. I chuckled as she brought her hands to my neck. Tilting my head down, I captured her lips with mine.

  16

  Roulette

  Gwen

  I walked up to my parents’ front steps like I was heading to the gallows. I really didn’t want to be there. What I preferred was to spend another evening in Alaric’s arms, purposely not thinking about my very un-casual feelings, but Dad was right; Mom wouldn’t stand for me continuing to skip dinner.

  Ringing the doorbell, I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other while I waited for someone to answer. A moment later, Mom opened the door, smiling grandly at me. I frowned, not trusting her. “Mother. Why do you have that look on your face?” I asked, instantly suspicious.

  When I walked in and set my purse down on the side table in the foyer, Mom retorted as if wounded, “What look? I’m just excited to se
e my daughter.”

  “Ha,” I laughed dryly. Deciding to let it go for the sake of keeping the peace, I hugged her. “It’s good to see you too, Mom.”

  “Your hair’s getting so long,” she remarked airily, hands fanning around my curls before she started to soothe the non-existent wrinkles in my dress.

  I’d dressed up, knowing I’d be heading to Alaric’s the second dessert was through. I’d curled my hair and put on a new dress—a cute pastel pink one with tiny black polka dots, a ruffled hemline, and a gathered-and-tied waist. It wasn’t wrinkled, and yet my mother fluffed at me anyway, as if pruning her precious rose bushes.

  “Okay, now I know for sure—you’re up to something. What is it?” I scowled, stepping away from her and appraising her with skepticism.

  “Don’t be silly. I was just admiring your dress. It’s very pretty,” Mom commented as she avoided meeting my gaze head on.

  “Thanks.” I pursed my lips, sensing something was amiss.

  Mom turned and walked down the hall to the dining room. I arched my brows, the air escaping my lungs in a whoosh.

  Yup, she was definitely up to something. I trailed after her, coming to a full stop when I realized an additional person sat at the table in the vacant chair beside mine. Grant Hernandez was filling that seat now, and he looked up at me, his lips pulling into a slow smile, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “Grant, you remember Gwen, don’t you?” Dad said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He avoided looking at me, likely knowing how livid I was.

  And I was. I was angrier than a cat that just got tossed into a tub full of water, and I was mortified, to boot. I peered at Kelsey for help, but she seemed just as uneasy as me. I knew from looking at her that she wasn’t involved in…whatever this was. Elliott sat beside her, appearing as if he’d swallowed glass.

  Clearly, I had my meddlesome parents to thank for this interjection. I scowled at my father, hurt that he’d done this after our conversation about why I didn’t like coming to these dinners. This was abundantly worse than sitting beside a vacant chair.

  “Yes, I do. Hey, Gwen,” Grant said with a wink, standing and pulling the chair out for me, practically giving my mother a coronary in the process.

  If she could get away with clapping her hands and squealing with excitement, she probably would. Instead, she smiled pointedly at me, her brows raising, her look alone telling me not to screw this up with my sarcastic bite.

  “Grant,” I managed, forcing my lips into a smile and moving my feet forward. I sat, shooting another glance at my father, who was strategically avoiding looking directly at me. “I’m a little surprised to see you here.”

  “Your father invited me,” Grant replied easily, sitting back down in his chair. I had to give him credit; he didn’t seem the least bit uncomfortable by the tension rolling off practically everyone’s shoulders. Except for my mom—she was the only one buzzing with excitement. Dad at least had the common decency to look ashamed of his hand in things.

  “Oh, that’s nice. Dad sure loves his charity causes,” I responded sweetly. My father stifled a laugh, masking it quickly with a cough.

  “Gwen,” Mom scolded, frowning deeply.

  “I know she’s teasing,” Grant interjected, sending me a bemused smile. “It’s kind of our thing.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a thing,” I muttered, stabbing a piece of roast with my fork and moving it to my plate. I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell my mother would let me leave without eating, and I was determined to get this night over with as soon as humanly possible.

  Kelsey sniggered, and Mom sent me another withering look. I bit down on my tongue, hard, to keep myself from verbally lashing out further and pitching an epic temper tantrum.

  Grant was a guest in their house, and my parents had raised me better than that. Plus, he was one of our best engineers, and I knew Dad valued him. I wouldn’t jeopardize my father’s company, and it maddened me that my mother used those things to her advantage.

  Painful. The whole thing was utterly and completely painful. My mother asked Grant a hundred questions—about where he grew up, what his plans for the future were, what he did for fun—information that someone he was dating might want to know.

  Dad could pretend all he wanted that it was business-related, but this was a setup, and everyone in the room knew it. I was vibrating with anger. This was a new low for my mother—and my father.

  It was more than likely that my poor father had been caught in the crossfire. He may have mentioned Grant hitting on me to Mom, who jumped all over it like some mid-century housewife, desperate to see all her daughters married off. Since Dad literally did anything to make my mother happy, I could see him bending to her will.

  Knowing this didn’t make my anger lessen, though.

  “Well, this has been a very entertaining evening, but I need to go,” I said tightly, standing as soon as I’d finished the tiny sliver of pie my mother insisted that I eat. I wasn’t about to let her rope me into staying any longer than I already had.

  “It’s barely nine o’clock, Gwen,” my mother said, frowning with disappointment.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted,” I replied, yawning and stretching a little. I waved at Kelsey and Elliott, too pissed to offer more than that.

  “I should get going, too. It’s a long drive back to Toronto,” Grant said as he stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious. I’ll walk you out, Gwen.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder, scowling. Mom’s frown instantly faded, and she smiled with notable relief.

  My heels clicked against the tiled floor in the foyer, and I paused to grab my purse off the side table, my hand reaching instantly into the little pocket I kept my phone in.

  I pulled it out, noticing I had several missed messages. A few were from Kelsey, sent just before I arrived, warning me about the unexpected guest and assuring me she had nothing to do with it.

  The others were from Alaric, telling me to let him know when I was leaving. My fingers moved quickly across the screen as I texted my response, telling Alaric I’d be there in twenty.

  By the time I hit send, Grant had joined me in the foyer with my parents. He shook both my dad’s and my mom’s hands before turning to me. “Shall we?”

  My mother watched the scene with a self-satisfied smile, seemingly unaware of how angry I was. She honestly thought she was doing me a favour.

  Sickening.

  I allowed Grant to lead me out the front door with his hand on the small of my back because I knew my mother would cause a stink if I were “rude” to him, but the moment the door closed behind us, I stepped away from his touch.

  “Look, Grant, I’m not interested,” I told him bluntly as we walked down the stone pathway to the driveway. I hadn’t noticed the additional car parked beside Kelsey’s SUV when I pulled up.

  “I’ve gathered as much,” he admitted with a laugh, the corners of his eyes creasing with amusement. “Coldest reception I’ve gotten in a while.”

  “I am sorry about that.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here, and there’s something extremely infuriating about parents playing matchmaker.”

  “Yeah, I guess they kind of blindsided you with it.” He chuckled, shaking his head. We paused when we came to my car, and he tilted his head at me. “So, is it just because your parents set this up?”

  “No.” I bit my lip, looking at my parents’ house. “I’m seeing someone.”

  “Is it serious?” Grant asked.

  “I don’t see why it’s any of your business,” I snapped, aggravated.

  “Because if it’s not serious, then there’s still a chance,” Grant replied, smiling.

  “It’s serious,” I replied as he opened my car door.

  “We’ll see,” he retorted, holding the door open. He flashed me a grin that suggested he was up for the challenge. It had zero effect on me.
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br />   “If that’s what you wish to delude yourself into thinking, be my guest.” I sighed with exasperation, slipping inside my vehicle. Alaric was unshakable, I already knew that.

  Grant chuckled and closed the door. Shoving my key in the ignition, I twisted it and backed out, my eyes focused on my rearview mirror.

  Light poured from Alaric’s garage when I pulled into his driveway. I could see his broad back and muscular forearm as he wiped down his workbench, cleaning it.

  I stepped from my car, closing the door lightly. Tig stood up from his spot in the corner of the garage, letting out a warning bark as he ambled over.

  “Hi, Tig,” I said, leaning forward to pet his fluffy face. When I straightened, Alaric was standing in the doorway of the garage with his arms crossed and a panty-melting smile on his kissable lips.

  “How was dinner?”

  “An actual disaster,” I moaned, my shoes crunching against the gravel as I walked up to him. His hand pressed against the small of my back as he dragged me toward him, causing my body to spark with awareness. Desire pooled low and hot in my belly as he kissed me.

  His touch quickly made me forget about Grant, about my parents, and everything else for that matter. My hands clenched at the material of his waffle shirt, and I let out another sigh when his lips left mine a moment later.

  “Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.” He chuckled.

  Pulling away from him, I walked over to look at the coffee table he’d just finished making. “It was,” I said, running my hand along the smooth plank of wood, held in place with intricate black metal bars and studs. I was in awe of his talent; of him. It stung, this realization that I’d gone and fallen for him. I was scared and trying desperately not to act like it. I didn’t want to lose him by admitting what I felt, but I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d wanted him in that chair tonight.