Page 86 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gretchen

Jake clung to me as we observed the flashing lights and flurry of activity of the kid-themed restaurant.

I knew the cacophony of kids’ screams, laughter, and temper tantrums, mixed with the beeps, buzzes, and whirring sounds of the numerous games made it hard for him to hear me when I said, “It’s okay, baby. This is going to be fun!”

Troy held out his hands. “Come on, Jakester! Let’s get some tokens so we can play a game!”

My little boy only buried his head in my shoulder. His grip around my neck was ironclad, like he was worried I was going to make him go with Troy.

“Maybe we should find a booth and order some food first. That way he can just watch until he’s more comfortable.”

I could tell by Troy’s scowl that he didn’t like the idea, but he murmured, “Yeah, sure.” His tone dripped with disdain when he continued, “Pick out where to sit, since I’ll probably get that wrong, too.”

“You haven’t gotten anything wrong, Troy.”

Other than abandoning your family.

“It’s going to take some time for him to get to know you again.”

I tried not to flinch when he stroked my arm.

“I know. I’m just anxious to have our family back together.”

That’s not happening .

With a fake smile plastered to my face, I nodded, then turned to scope out an empty booth among the gold-colored ones that looked like they hadn’t been updated since the seventies. All while I tried to adjust Jake’s body, the diaper bag slung over one shoulder, and my purse over the other.

If Troy noticed me struggling, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Where do you want to sit?”

I nodded toward the closest empty booth. None of the seats had padding, probably so they could be hosed down easier at the end of the night. At least, I hope they got cleaned. I couldn’t imagine how many germs were floating through this place with all the kids running around.

“How about there?”

“Cool.”

He headed to the table without looking back, leaving me to juggle Jake and the bags while I picked up a brown booster seat from the stack at the wall.

Not that I wasn’t used to handling everything on my own, I’d just gotten spoiled having Gabe around who insisted on helping me with everything.

I dropped my bags on the left side of the bench and put the child’s seat down on the right side before plopping Jake in and scooching him toward the wall. Then I picked up my purse and the diaper bag and set them on the other side of me as I got situated next to Jake.

My ex plucked the laminated menu tent from the end of the table and perused it while I fished out disinfecting wipes from the diaper bag and wiped down the sides of the booster chair and the table. The last thing I needed was for Jake to get sick when I had to administer final exams next week.

Troy proclaimed, “Oh good, they have beer.”

Whew. I wouldn’t want you to have to go a whole evening with your child without having a beer.

My smile was tight when I asked, “What kind of juice do they have?”

“Since when do you drink juice?”

I stopped what I was doing and scowled in disbelief.

“For Jake.”

I couldn’t bring myself to call him “our” son yet.

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” He flipped the menu over. “It looks like they have apple and orange juice or milk—whole, two percent, and chocolate.”

Hearing that, Jake clapped. “Choco milk, Mama! Pweez!”

I smiled at his enthusiasm. “Okay, baby. You can have chocolate milk.”

Troy didn’t even acknowledge Jake, just glanced around and wondered out loud, “Do they have servers or are we supposed to order at the counter?”

“I’m not sure.”

Just as I was about to suggest Troy go find out, a young woman appeared at our table dressed in a red and white striped retro uniform with the top three buttons undone. She appeared to be in her late teens/early twenties, and I noticed Troy’s gaze fixated on her boobs popping out of her uniform.

“Hi! Welcome to Mickey’s! My name’s Christine and I’ll be helping ya out today. Are you ready to order? ”

Troy flashed a smile that I’m sure he thought was charming, but frankly, I thought it came off as lecherous.

“Hey there, Christine. What pizza specials do you have that include beer?”

She shook her head. “We don’t have any; you have to order beer separately.”

He raked his gaze back down to her boobs, then to her face again. “But I can order it from you, right? So, you’ll get the gratuity?”

At the mention of gratuity, she giggled, causing her boobs to jiggle. “Of course.”

Troy didn’t even look our way when he asked, “Do any of the pizzas come with tokens?”

She leaned forward, conveniently giving Troy a better view of her twins when she grabbed the menu he’d just been reading to point out the different options. Troy sat rapt listening to her, like the fucker didn’t know how to read.

“We’ll go with the Number Three.”

Christine stood up straight to pull her order pad and pen from her apron pocket.

“What kind of pizza?”

“Supreme.”

I scoffed. “Jake won’t eat anything but cheese.”

You’d know that if you’d ever been around.

“I’m not eating a plain pizza.” He offered Christine a smile. “I’m a man—I eat meat.”

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. There was more to being a man than eating meat. I knew a certain cabinet maker who could give him some pointers on the subject .

“Fine,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Get a pepperoni and I’ll pick them off for him.”

I don’t know if Troy did as I asked, because I heard Jake squeal, “Bandit!” before sliding out of his booster seat and landing under the table. He then took off running before I registered what was happening.

The bags next to me prohibited me from easily sprinting after him, and I noticed his little arms stretched out wide before he was picked up by a man who looked an awful lot like Gabe. I had to squint to make sure it really was him, and not my imagination.

But as if I’d conjured him up, he was there—in the flesh.

My little guy was talking a mile a minute, with both his hands on Gabe’s cheeks to make sure he had the man’s full attention. They seemed to be wearing matching grins.

Brittany and Brayden flanked them on either side.

That’s my family.

I felt so sure about it that it didn’t even freak me out. I’d rather Jake be my only kid and be with Gabe than have another child and end up with a loser like Troy.

I didn’t need to have another baby. Jake, Brayden, and Brittany were all I needed, as long as I had Gabe by my side.

I knew I wasn’t Brayden and Brittany’s mom, but I’d come to love them, and I knew they cared about me and Jake.

“Who the fuck is that, and why is he holding my son?”

I realized I was smiling from ear to ear when I replied, “That’s Gabe Mitchell. He made the kitchen cabinets you had to have. ”

I realized how fortunate I was that Troy had insisted on those darn cabinets.

****

Gabe

Oh, fuck no. They’re mine.

That’d been my immediate reaction when I saw Gretchen and Jake in the booth with that asshole.

While I’d talked with Beau that morning, I realized he was right—as much as that’d pained me. I loved her more than my fear.

For the first time in seven years, I allowed myself to consider what having another kid might look like.

It looked like Jake.

And however many more little Gretchens she wanted.

It’d been confirmed when my little man caught sight of me and slipped out of his booster chair to make a mad dash my way.

The look on the fucker’s face, along with Gretchen’s bright smile, when I scooped Jake up in my arms had felt immensely satisfying.

The four of us approached the booth where they were seated.

I opened with, “Look who I found!” the same time Jake asked, loudly, “Mama and Jake at your house?”

“That’d be fun, huh, buddy?”

He nodded solemnly and added a lot of gibberish along with a very clear, “Pancakes! ”

That made me laugh out loud.

“I’ll definitely make you pancakes again.”

Troy scowled and looked at Gretchen.

“What is he talking about? Why is the cabinet maker making my son pancakes?”

I answered for her.

“Because Jake likes pancakes for breakfast, that’s why.”

“And how the fuck do you know that?”

I lightly cover Jake’s ears with my hands and admonished, “Language!”

It seemed to have the intended effect, because the dude’s face got red, so I went in for another jab.

“I think the bigger question is, why don’t you know that?”

“That’s none of your business.”

I handed Jake to Britt and murmured, “Why don’t you guys go find a game he wants to play,” then took a step closer to the booth.

I could tell by the way Brayden stood up taller that he wanted to stay and give the guy a piece of his mind, but he reluctantly turned and followed his sister.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Gretchen and Jake are my business.”

She squeaked, “We are?”

Our eyes met, and I took another few steps until I was in front of her. “Yeah, sweetheart. You are. If that’s okay with you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded her head.

“More than okay. ”

Reaching for her hand, I pulled her from the booth and into my arms at the same time I heard Troy exclaim, “You gotta be fucking kidding me! I’m out of here.”

Neither of us even acknowledged him as I wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs and stole a kiss right there in the middle of Mickey’s.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.”

“I want to marry you and have babies with you.”

This was so not the place to be quasi-proposing, but it couldn’t wait.

“I don’t need another child. You, Jake, Brittany, and Brayden are my family.”

“You’re right, we are. But I know you want more kids, and I want to be the man to give them to you. I want to give you everything.”

“ Everything ?” she teased with a grin.

“Every damn thing you want. Making you happy makes me happy.”

“ You make me happy. The fact that you care so much about my son makes me happy.”

“I love your son. I want him to be our son someday soon.”

Her fingers skimmed the hair along my neck.

“I want that, too.” Her grin grew wider. “Bandit.”

I mirrored her smile, “Come on, Chilli. Let’s go find—”

Before I could finish my thought, the kids swarmed us. Brayden and Britt hugged Gretchen while I picked up Jake.

“I’m so happy!” Brittany exclaimed with a big, goofy grin.

Me, too, kiddo. Me too.

****

Gretchen

Gabe and I sat down in the booth while the kids went to spend their tokens.

Christine looked confused when she brought the drinks, but Gabe told her to leave them, then ordered two more pizzas—one cheese, and drinks for his kids.

With a smirk, he took a pull of Troy’s beer, then set it down and declared, “You’re too far away, sweetheart. Come here.”

I didn’t hesitate to move to his side of the booth.

He slid his arm around my shoulder and murmured, “That’s better.”

My heart felt like it was going to burst, and I wondered if it was possible to die from happiness.

He took my hand and said, “I have something very important to ask you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I whispered, “Okay.”

“Will you and Jake come home with me tonight?”

I immediately replied. “Yes.”

“And never leave?”

I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want that, but I was scared this was too good to be true. It was all happening so fast.

He must have taken my hesitation to mean something else, because he pressed on.

“You and Jake healed a place inside my heart that I was afraid could never heal. The kids were right—I need you. I need you if I want any chance of happiness in my life. ”

“I need you, too.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Good,” then he stole a quick kiss before nuzzling my neck and whispering, “I have one more important question.”

“Okay?”

“Will you make lasagna now?”

****

Gabe

She made the lasagna, and it’s now one of our family’s favorites.