He even liked when Lola smeared her ketchup dinner all over him. Because it meant he was there. Living. Not only working and fixing things for everyone else.
Rachel shared a look with Travis before refocusing on him. “You’re always welcome here. You know that.”
He’d love that. But he couldn’t come back for a while. Not until whatever was going on with his heart settled down.
He shook his head, going for subtle. “April’s ready for me to leave. I got the call. So I’m taking off.” He mimed an airplane takeoff with his palm.
“Do you ever tell people to fix their own messes?” Travis asked. “Seems like the kind of thing you might try.”
“That’s my job. And I’m good at it.” He understood it. Didn’t question himself when he was working.
“You love her.” Rachel said this without any filter and without any hesitation.
He nodded, staring into the tiny bubbles of foam along the surface of his Coors. “I love her.”
Though he hadn’t thought it was possible to fall in love with someone that quickly, it’d happened. He’d figured that type of thing took months or even years to cultivate. But with April? One moment he was staying in her guest room, the next he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Then he realized his heart had gotten involved.
Worse than that? He loved the kids, too. Not like he loved his nephews—in that drop-off-presents-uncle kind of way. No, he loved them like he wanted to burn their chili and figure out how to make them cheese-less mac and cheese.
“You know.” Rachel shifted. Leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “Sometimes it just happens—like with us.” She slid her gaze to her husband. “You can’t manage it. It just is.”
He stood. Moved to the sink and set his not-even-remotely-empty beer bottle there. “I manage things. It’s what I do.”
“That’s why you’ve never had a successful relationship,” Rachel said softly. She probably didn’t mean for the gentle words to sting, but they did. Oh brother, they did.
“Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess so.”
Maybe that’s why he’d never have a relationship.
This was for the best.
If he couldn’t have April? He didn’t want one anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“If your children don’t hate you at least once a month, you’re probably not doing your job.”
—Mona, Maryland, United States
April
April’s pulse seemed to pound faster as the kids fidgeted in the living room. Moments marched by, each one impressing a tread mark on her thoughts.
Jack’s leaving.
She had dinner already made. Thank you, Ethan Greene.
Jack’s leaving.
The laundry was done. For the first time in ever.
Jack’s leaving.
She scrubbed her hands together because they felt so, so numbingly cold whenever she really stopped to think about that. It made little sense. This is what she wanted.
Sure, Jack had fit in so seamlessly with them. And yes, his leaving would be a seam ripper for what they’d gotten used to. No matter how easy she tried to make this on her kids, it would be a transition. Like coming home from a vacation. When the reality of the real world settled in after too much Mickey Mouse.
But it’d been only a little while. Not like he’d had time to wiggle permanently into the fabric of their family.
