“I hope the weather will cooperate and it stays warm. I don’t want her kittens being too cold.”
“Don’t worry. Cats are pretty resilient, and she’s used to living outside. She’ll take care of them.”
“As far as I know, she’s a first-time mom,” I say, worried as I lean down and pick her up, being cautious of her rounded belly. She just purrs loudly and butts her head up against my face.
“She’ll be okay,” he says fondly, scratching her ears as she demands pets and then that I set her back down—which I do very, very gently.
I can feel him watching me, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t tell me I’m being ridiculous. Or that I need to stop fussing so much over the animal. I know my parents would be scolding me if they saw—telling me to stop acting so prissy. That meansdon’t fuss.
I shudder a little at the thought of my parents, and I know Gabe doesn’t miss it. He’s about to open his mouth to ask if I’m okay. I just know it, so I try my best to distract him. “Do you have any pets?”
He’s slow to answer, like he still wants to ask about the moment, but thankfully, he lets it pass. “I don’t. I wouldn’t mind a dog or some cats, but I live in town, and the house is pretty small.”
I frown because it just doesn’t seem like he’s too happy about that. “Not where you want to be?” I ask boldly.
He shrugs, but I don’t miss how his whole demeanor has changed since talking about his living situation, starting to pour soil into one of the beds and smoothing it out. “It’s close to my daughter and to the old house I used to live in with her.”
“Ah, the wife got the house,” I observe.
“I made sure the wife got the house.” He doesn’t sound defensive, and I’m glad for that, but it also sounds like he needs me to know the difference. I’m not surprised at all. Gabe hasa big heart. Of course he would leave the house to his wife and daughter and move somewhere close—which apparently, he doesn’t love.
“Could you find something that’s still close that you actually want to live in?” I ask, and yes, I’m being nosey. But the thought of him being unhappy doesn’t sit right with me.
“I always wanted to move out into the country.” His smile is a little shy as his eyes sweep around my property. “Something like this, actually.”
My heart flutters in my chest violently. “Like this?” My mouth has gone totally dry, and my mind has flown way off track, picturing Gabe living here. Would he want to get more animals? Would he want a hot tub? What could we get up to in that hot tub?
And . . . I really need to stop this.
“Yeah,” he goes on, oblivious to the storm he’s brewed in my mind. “It’s nice out here. Quiet and comfortable.”
I hear almost a longing in his voice, but for once, I manage not to comment on it, and we just go about the day. We nearly finish the greenhouse, but just before he leaves, we go over plans for a pretty extravagant firepit he said will actually take him about a week.
It’s stupid how happy I am about that fact.
12
GABE
The firepit is almost finished.
And I’m not excited about that fact at all. How can I be when it means I don’t get to see Dakota every day? And how the hell did I get here?
From thinking he was just a grumpy old man to realizing he was a young, beautiful, sensitive, sweet... Okay, I need to stop. I don’t know what’s going on with me, and if I’m honest, I’m a little afraid to explore it.
Not because of Dakota. Not really even because he’s a man—though I have to admit that was a curveball. But... I was married. I thought I was happy. And then that imploded, and it was over so fast, my head is still spinning from it.
I don’t know if I’m ready for that again. What if he gets bored with me too?
“Gabe?” I look over at Dakota, his eyes shining with concern as he sits in one of the wooden chairs he had ordered to go around the firepit, and I realize that he likely asked me something and I missed it during my freak-out. One of many lately, by the way. I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to date Dakota. Which is crazy. I’m getting way ahead of myself,considering I’ve never gotten him to hang out with me outside of working for him at his house.
“I’m sorry. What was that?” I ask, laying more of the brick he chose for the large pit.
“I was just wondering if you’re going to trivia tonight.”
“Oh...” Is he asking because he wants to go? I can’t hide my surprise, and I see a slight blush on his cheeks. Goddammit, I think he does. “I have Amber this week.” And I’m thrilled to have my baby girl at my house all week, but—and I feel really shitty for thinking it—but part of me mourns the fact that I can’t go out tonight. With Dakota.
“Oh, right. I forgot. Well, that’s good. That’s fine, I mean. No.” His eyes widen. “Not fine, like I’m upset about that or anything. It’s great that you’re such an involved father and have your daughter at home with you and don’t want to leave her with a babysitter during your week.” He looks absolutely horrified as he snaps his mouth shut and looks anywhere else but at me.
