I put my hand down, pressing my lips together, trying not to laugh because I wanted—needed—to get this out. “I wanted to come and apologize. I don’t know how to do this.” I pointed between him and me. Then thinking I’d given the wrong impression, I quickly amended, “I mean, me and the kids and you in the house. I’m sorry about yesterday when I essentially exiled you here. I didn’t want you to feel like because you live here, you have to help us 24/7.
Jace opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to signal I had more to say.
“Please, I need to get this out. I don’t mean to be so strict about the schedule. We’ve had so many changes this past year, and it’s only me. I’ve used the schedule as a way to keep track of things. But over time, it got out of hand.”
Jace held up his hands, signaling his turn to speak. “First, make a thousand schedules. You have the right to parent the way you want. What I think doesn’t matter. Second, I get it. Once you’re home, I’m off the clock. But know that if I want to talk to you or play with the kids, that’s my choice. I don’t feel forced. I’ll be honest with you. You’ll never make me do something I don’t want to do.”
The tension in my shoulders had started to ease at his words, and I could feel my cheeks upturning in a smile.
“The same goes for you,” he continued. “Be honest with me. If you want time alone with your kids, or I say something you don’t agree with, you have every right to tell me to fuck off.” Jace winced, then added, “Sorry.”
“Did you just apologize for swearing?”
“I guess I did, yeah.”
I stood up straighter and smirked. “Well,fuckthat.”
Jace and I were both laughing as I half turned, making a motion to leave, but finding that I didn’t want to. “There’s some leftover lasagna in the fridge if you’d like it. I don’t want you to think you have to eat a PB&J every night.”
“Spying on me, huh?” Jace leaned against the doorframe, dimples popping as his arms crossed over his chest, causing my insides to quiver.
“I don’t want to be accused of a hostile workplace.”
Jace opened his mouth to reply as I heard . . . barking?
I peered around Jace, looking into the dim room. “Umm, Jace? Ryla didn’t actually talk you into getting a dog, did she?”
“That’s a show I’m watching on my tablet. It’s calledTreasure Dogs. Twenty dogs and their owners compete in the world’s largest scavenger hunt.” He looked over his shoulder and back to me, eyes practically smoldering when he asked, “It would look better on a big screen. You up for watching an episode with me?”
* * *
“I can’t believe Dennis missed that! Rosie had it!” I lamented, turning my head toward Jace, who’d just finished off his second helping of lasagna. We’d set up in the basement theater room, sitting side by side in overstuffed loungers. We’d just finished the third episode of season one ofTreasure Dogs. Jace had argued that I needed to start with the first season, even though he’d been halfway through the second.
Jace nodded his head, grinning. “Rosie was definitely signaling to the park bench.” Dennis was Rosie the German shepherd’s owner, and he missed Rosie’s cue when she was pawing at the park bench, so they only got second place in the challenge. Rosie was obviously the most talented dog of the group and already my choice for the winner.
“Please tell me Dennis doesn’t lose the whole thing for her. Rosie needs to win! Dennis doesn’t deserve her.”
“I can’t give it away. It’ll ruin the surprise.”
“Are all the episodes on Zoola?” I asked.
Jace muted the TV and turned in his seat to face me, using the arm of the lounge chair as his backrest. He stretched out, letting his long legs dangle over the other arm of the chair. His curls had dried all frizzy, making me think he must put some product in it normally.
“Yup. All available for your binging pleasure.” Jace’s damn twinkling eyes and dimples were out in full force; my lower belly flipping when he said the wordpleasure.
“I need to know! Does Rosie at least make it to the final?”
Jace watched me intently, responding in that low, languid tone of his, the one that made me feel all melty on the inside. “You’ll just have to keep watchin’ it with me to find out.”
I forced a rough swallow. I was reading into everything way too much tonight.
“Do you watch any other shows?” I asked.
“Not unless you count a Braves game every once in a while. Though I mostly watch those with my pop.”
“That’s baseball, right? Do the Braves play in Tennessee?”
Jace shook his head. “They’re out of Atlanta. My pop grew up there. He loves to tell the story about how he and his friends won tickets to the first Braves home game in 1966. The ticket stub is still framed and hanging on my parents’ wall.”
