“Wear a life jacket next time,” Kellan replied, the words solid. He gave a curt nod with the declaration.
Gavin shook his head. No. That was not what he’d been thinking.
His wet shoes squeaked with each step he took forward toward his son. He knelt down like he’d seen Rachel do so many times. Eyes at Kellan’s level. “How about there is no next time, bud?”
“Oliver wants to be a stuntman.” Kellan squared his shoulders and clocked Gavin square in the eye with his gaze.
“You’re always telling us we should follow our dreams,” Brady jumped into the fray. “He’s following his.”
There were moments as a parent when the things you said jumped up and bit you in the ass. This was one of those times.
Gavin lifted his eyebrows, shook his head, and rubbed his temples. He should clarify this piece of fatherly advice. “Follow your dreamsunlessthey’re dangerous. Then wait until you are an appropriate age or you have parental permission.”
“Brady gets to go up in airplanes, that’s dangerous,” Kellan said.
Sometimes he really wished his kids weren’t so smart. Or they’d listen to more of what he said and not pick and choose.
“Brady follows a structured lesson with an instructor,” he said. “And he has parental permission.”
“I want to do a structuredstuntmanlesson,” Oliver said proudly.
Molly pursed her lips, but she wasn’t glaring at Gavin like she usually did, so that was a plus. “They don’t have those, baby.”
“They do,” Brady said, again the words coming faster than fast. “A whole school for stuntmen. They even have a summer camp. I looked it up.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Oliver’s eyes lit up like he’d just discovered chocolate ice cream for the first time. “I wanna go.”
Gavin looked to his dripping clothes. He needed to get changed. Oliver needed to get dry clothes as well. They’d be cutting the cake soon, and when that happened, their absence would have a definite exclamation point.
“You.” Gavin pointed to Brady. “And you.” He pointed to Kellan. “Back to the reception and don’t leave until I am there to escort you to the house. Clear?”
The boys must’ve gotten the notice that he wasn’t messing around about this because they nodded. This time they headed in the direction of the reception.
He turned back to Molly and her son. Skates removed, Oliver was dripping lake water right along with Gavin.
“We can go dry off.” Gavin jerked his chin toward the kiddo. Bonus, he’d take his time returning to the reception and hopefully shake off the latest woman his mother stood ready to introduce him to. He had no interest in meeting a woman at his ex-wife’s wedding. Call him old-fashioned like that.
“You’ll probably want to head back for cake,” he said to Molly.
“Gavin…” she said, a kinder—gentler—note to her voice. The kind of note he’d never had pointed in his direction. Not from her.
“Do it for Rachel,” he said quietly. “She doesn’t need to worry about what just happened here, not yet. Not until tomorrow. Let’s make sure she has today.”
Molly’s gaze softened at that. Her eyes were a pretty silver and blue most of the time, but when they softened, they sparkled and wrapped him with rich warmth. He’d never had them soften towards him. He liked it entirely too much.
“I’ll go back.” She gave a brief nod. “For Rachel. You’ll…uh…”
“We’ll get dried off, changed, and be right there.”
Molly stood, and other than a few residual Oliver damp spots on her dress, she looked no different from when they’d left the reception.
“For Rachel.” Her chest heaved with a breath.
Gavin’s relationship with his ex-wife was oddly uncomplicated. They were never meant to be a couple, and she didn’t love him either. They’d hooked up once when she was a co-ed. One night was enough to get pregnant with their boys and tether themselves together for a lifetime.
He’d married her because it seemed like the right thing to do. Seemed like what was expected.
