“Stupid,” Beth finishes, and Mason throws his head back and laughs.
“Actually, that’s one of my favourite positions.” The smug way Caleb says that makes me think there’s more to that comment that I definitely don’t want to know.
“Yoga sounds like fun. I’d love to do that together. Maybe Gage will join, too.” Isabelle rests her head against my shoulder. Ugh, I don’t want to do yoga. I’ll definitely look like an idiot, but if Isabelle’s going, I’m quickly understanding there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her happy.
“I’ll come!” Beth is quick to invite herself, and it’s got nothing to do with supporting Isabelle.
Mason looks around the table, realising he’s now the odd one out. “Me too.”
“You’re not invited,” Caleb snaps at Mason.
“I take it back, you don’t look stupid.”
“Too late.”
I watch my siblings bicker, feeling warmth spread in my chest. My family have been there for me in my darkest days, never pushing, just being a quiet pillar of strength that I knew I could lean on.
When Caleb looks over at me, he does a double-take. The side of his mouth pulls up in a smile as he looks between Isabelle and me. If it weren’t for Isabelle’s constant presence, and I guess Beth’s secret matchmaking, I wouldn’t have discovered it’s a whole lot nicer to be vulnerable with the right people instead of shutting everyone out, thinking you’re protecting them. Your army is stronger when you fight together, and I’m tired of doing it alone.
Chapter thirty-seven
Thirteen Weeks
“Man, it’s different being behind someone else’s bar,” Dylan says as he shakes a cocktail beside me.
He travelled up to the city to do some Legacy Malt stuff with Lex and Isabelle, so we figured it would be a great time to promote his whiskey at the bar too. His dark blond hair is wild like you might expect from a typical surfer, and his skin has the same golden tan as Lex’s. “The city bars are a lot busier than what we see in Killara Bay. Even during the height of the tourist season.”
My eyes dart over to the booth where Isabelle’s sitting, talking to Lex and Becca, Dylan’s baby mama. I feel myself smile. It’s starting to get easier to enjoy these little moments. The ones I didn’t let myself appreciate in the past, but now I try to hold on tighter. To let them soak in, so when I’m feeling down or doubtful, I have them to help guide me through, to anchor me in the light.
“Must be nice,” Dylan murmurs.
“What’s that?” I ask, pausing to accept an order from a customer.
“Doing it with a partner.” Dylan stares past me at Becca. She looks ready to pop, but Dylan says they’ve still got about seven weeks until his son is due.
“There’s nothing romantic going on between you two?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. She lets me in as far as being a dad goes, but—” He sighs, looking over at their table with longing. “I don’t know what our future’s going to look like. She’s not from here. She was on a travel visa from the US. I’m scared she’ll turn around at any moment and take my kid with her, and she doesn’t open up to me emotionally.”
I slide the finished cocktails over to my customer, then accept another order. I finally lost the crutches and cast last week, and it feels fucking amazing to be back behind my bar, and with the staff that kept this place going. Dylan does the same next to me, and I ruminate on his confessions.
“If she moved back home, would you follow her?”
The breath Dylan lets out sounds like it’s been unleashed from the depths of his soul. This guy is hurting.
“It would suck to leave my sister. To leave my pub, my hometown, and the legacy I built for my dad.” He picks up a sprig of rosemary, dropping it into the cocktail he’s whipping up. “But, if my dad taught me one thing, it’s how to show up for your kid.” He shrugs. “So, yeah, if she moved back to the States, I’d follow her. I’d follow my son.”
Jesus, I feel awful for the guy. Isabelle and I had a surprise pregnancy, just like he did, but doing it with a partner is different. Isabelle’s doing all the hard work, but she includes me in every step. I get to sleep every night with my hand on her stomach. She sends me updates from her pregnancy app, with how big BB is each week.Baby Buttercup.They’re currently the size of a plum.
I wake up before her on days she works so I can put ginger tea in her thermos and make her breakfast. On the weekends when she stays at my house, I get up to do my gardening, and a workout, then I get to wake her up slowly with my tongue on her pussy, leaving kisses up her thighs and all over her belly before I slide into her nice and slow.
Fuck. She’s brought so much to my life that I’m grateful for. Things I never want to take for granted. I don’t want her to havethe chance to question how much I need her, how much Ilivefor her.
“You’re a good man, Dylan. I have faith it’s all gonna work out for you.”
Dylan throws a one-sided smirk my way. “Thanks, man. No matter how hard the road is, I know I’ll always make it to where I need to be.”
I know from Lex that she and her brother lost their dad at a young age. But the way they’ve carried their grief is admirable. Everyone’s journey is different—it doesn’t recognise time or rules. It can’t be explained, just felt. And it won’t be shoved in a box to deny, to limit, or only open at a time when you’re ready to cope with it.
