Page 35 of Just This Once (Stone Family #2)

Dante

T aryn flew off earlier in such a rush, stress written all over her face, that I’ve been nonstop chewing my nails.

After what happened last night with Craig, I don’t trust that motherfucker as far as I can throw that bald-headed broad-backed son of a bitch.

And I’d been waiting to check up on her and the kids.

So as soon as she gives me the go-ahead, I practically sprint downstairs and across her backyard.

Through the kitchen window, I view her standing at the sink, and I raise my hand for her attention so she’ll unlock the back door for me.

“Where are the kids?” I ask once it’s open, and she steps back, allowing me inside.

“Upstairs.”

Since they’re out of sight, I duck down, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Except she’s not fine. She slumps away from me to go back to the sink, where she studiously cleans a pot. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she keeps wiggling her mouth back and forth like she might cry.

“What happened?”

She shuts off the water, picking up a striped kitchen towel to dry the pot. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

I coast my attention around the small room, from the I Love Lucy salt and pepper shakers to the tiny succulent on the windowsill.

There is a pile of Frankie’s stuff in the corner, bags of food and treats, his leash hanging from a hook, and dark-stained cabinets that I know if I opened would have a few boxes of cereal, a bunch of ramen, and grape jelly that’s four years old and unopened.

I have plans for this kitchen. Beginning with updated cabinetry and ending with adding my favorite protein bars to the shelves.

When I spot the empty jar of marinara sauce on the counter, I try a different tactic. I take the dry pot from her to put it away. “You have spaghetti for dinner?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“With sauce from a jar?”

She sighs, finally meeting my eyes. “Yes.”

I grin, hoping to disperse the dark cloud over her head. “No good, duchess. One of these days, I’m gonna make you some real sauce. No more of this stuff from a jar.”

She ignores the suggestion, opening the dishwasher to load up the plates and utensils.

I try again. “I was actually thinking that you should come to Christmas Eve with me.”

She opens the cabinet underneath the sink for the detergent, and I’m about to tell her to wait so I can redo how she loaded everything.

She could fit another few items in here if she stacked everything differently, but I don’t think now is the time to bring it up.

Instead, I let her pour in the blue liquid and press the button to run it before she faces me with a scowl. “What are you talking about?”

“I want you to come to my parents’ house for Christmas Eve. We do Seven Fishes.”

“I…” She scrubs her hand over her face. “I don’t know what that means.”

I feel her tension rising because I am as attuned to her as I am to myself. “It’s an Italian thing. We eat seven fish, but I’ll make sure there’s food for you. Braciole or something.”

“Braciole?”

Taryn doesn’t like fish, and normally we wouldn’t have meat on Christmas Eve, but it’s not a big deal. Nobody even knows why we eat seven fish, so I don’t care about breaking a made-up rule in the first place. “Beef braciole. It’s, like, flattened?—”

“No, no, no,” she mutters, waving her hand. “No, I’m not going to go to your Christmas fish meal.”

“I told you, you don’t have to eat fish. It’s?—”

“I don’t care about the fish, Dante. I’m not going to your family’s house.”

That sets me back on my heels, but I expected a little bit of pushback.

She’s tried to keep this as emotion-free as possible, but it’s too late.

I am in love with her, and I’m pretty sure she loves me too.

I am willing to wait and be patient for her to realize it, but I want her to get to know me better. Might speed the process up.

Especially after all the conversations we’ve had about my family. I would like her to be at my side for the next big family event. If only so she might lend me some of her strength.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” I tell her. “My whole extended family comes, so it’s not like anybody would care who you are. You’d just be another person for my mother to feed, which she loves so… ”

Taryn shakes her head. “No.”

“Why not?” I ask, a spark of irritation at the complete shutdown. Not even considering it.

“Because I said so.”

Planting my feet and crossing my arms so she knows I’m not going anywhere, I take a deep breath and remind myself that her reaction isn’t about me. It’s about whatever happened today. “Okay, so we’ll talk about that later.”

She rolls her eyes with a grumble as she pivots away from me to stare out the window at the dark sky. Not a star in sight.

“What’s going on? You gonna tell me what happened?”

Almost a full minute passes, the mechanical clock on the wall ticking the seconds. Eventually, she says, “I’m going to go for full custody of the kids.”

I close the space between us, placing my hand on her back. I’m not sad about it, but that’s a big decision. One I know she hasn’t made lightly. “How come?”

“He got into an argument with Jake. All but threw him out of the house, threatened him with not paying for his college, which he promised me he would when we signed the divorce papers.” She curls her fingers into fists on the countertop.

“The kids don’t want to see him anymore, and I’m not going to force them because of a stupid piece of paper. ”

“Are the kids all right? How’s Jake?”

“Pissed off. Maddie’s been crying a lot. You know… They’re finally facing the fact that their father is a piece of shit, and I’m not going to let him hurt them anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s a really tough situation, but I’m here for you. Whatever you and the kids need, I’ll support you.”

She laughs a bitter sound, breathing out a sarcastic, “Okay.”

I wrench back. I’ve always put up with Taryn’s prickly nature, have even been enticed by it, but I don’t like this sudden condescension. I’m not the one she’s mad at, but she’s taking it out on me. “Listen, I know you’re upset, and I’m here for you, but I’m not going to be your punching bag.”

She scoffs, angling her head to me, but where I expect to see ire, all I can read in those chocolate-brown irises is sadness. Even as she narrows her brows at me. “You’re the one who came here wanting to have this conversation. If you can’t handle my dramatics, then leave.”

Clearly, she’s speaking from her past. Bullshit that Craig fed her.

It’s so simple to understand, and yet she’s living in this cycle, when all I want to do is pull her out of it.

“You’re not being dramatic. You’re emotional.

You should be. I want you to be. But don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.

Don’t take your anger out on me. I’m not the one you’re mad at. ”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you stop for once? All of your, like—” she shakes her hands out, scornful “—happy-go-lucky bullshit. I’m dealing with real stuff here, and you want to talk as if it can be solved with some cute therapy words.”

I keep my voice quiet even though my skin is hot and my pulse is racing.

I’m fighting the reflexive impulse to raise my voice to match hers.

“I don’t think that at all. I’m here for you, that’s all I said.

I want to help you and the kids out however I can.

I…” I blow out a breath and decide it’s now or never.

“I know you might not be ready to make any decisions about us right now, but I want you to know—I need you to know—that I’m in this. ”

“ In this ?” she repeats, full of derision. “What? You want to be Maddie and Jake’s stepdad?”

Yeah. That is exactly what I want. When the time comes, I will be ready to step into that role.

But Taryn doesn’t think so. Or, maybe, doesn’t want to believe me.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be a parent. Spending a few hours with me and the kids isn’t the same thing as parenting.”

“I know it’s not, but I know I can do it. I want to do it. With you. I want you and the kids forever.”

She straightens to face me fully, her jaw tight as she shakes her head, but I’m not sure if it’s in disbelief or refusal. It probably isn’t the best time to discuss my feelings for her, but I’m tired of hiding it. Especially when she’s hurting so much. She needs to know that she isn’t alone.

“You’ll regret it,” she says, and it’s my turn to huff in agitation.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know. You’re pushing me away, and I don’t understand why.”

“Because it’s not real. You don’t really want this. You don’t even know what this is.”

“I do!” I wrap my hands around her shoulders. “I know exactly what this is, what you are, what it takes to be with you, and I want it. All of it, kids included.”

She tries to shake me off her, but I don’t let go, tightening my grip and pressing my forehead to hers. That’s when she sniffles. “You’re too young to know what you want.”

I grit my teeth, fighting a shout. This goddamn woman!

I love her so fucking much, and she’s too goddamn stubborn to see it.

“And you’re too fucking scared to admit you want me too,” I whisper before stepping back and dropping my hands.

Her face is flushed, eyes glassy, but I don’t let that stop me.

I can’t stand here and listen to her try to tear what we have apart simply because she’s in the mood to break things.

“Talk to me when you’re ready to admit the truth. ”

I spin on my heel and stomp out the back door, careless about slamming it on my way.

The cold air hits me like a slap in the face, cooling the anger riding my bones.

But it’s not enough. I need to rid myself of the tension coiled in my gut and head upstairs for my leather jacket and helmet before striding right to my bike.

I rev the engine, the vibration familiar and calming as I take off.

The streets are dark, the temperature frigid.

It’s not a great night for a ride, but after pouring my heart out to the woman I love only to have it rebuffed, sulking in my PJs doesn’t have the same kind of oomph.

Nothing short of a laser meant to obliterate broken pieces of a human heart would do, but this is a close second.

Once I’m out of town, I open up the speed and let my mind wander back to our argument.

I stupidly assumed after all our conversations, all the secrets we’ve shared with each other, we were past this bullshit.

Past her pushing me away. Past her thinking I’m too young, too immature, too whatever the fuck else.

I thought she trusted me, trusted us . But maybe she doesn’t, maybe she never will. And that thought fucking stings.

Yet I’m willing to take another lashing to make her comprehend the possibilities.

I doubt she’ll let me in today or even tomorrow, but I can have hope that someday soon she will.

I circle my bike back toward home, knowing we’ve got shit to sort out.

Because I meant what I said. I want her, want the kids, want this life we’re building.

And I’ll be damned if I let her fears get in the way of that.

So, yeah, I’ll go back. I’ll talk to her, and we’ll figure this out, one way or another. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You fight for them. And I love Taryn enough to fight.