“It’s nothing.” My words were clipped.
Jack leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Then that’s settled, I guess. My job here is done.” With that, he shuffled his papers and waved us out of his office.
Pretty anticlimactic, considering.
We all left Jack’s office together, finding ourselves back in the dingy waiting room with a different sort of weight on our shoulders. Sure, there was no more uncertainty, and somehow the shame of not knowing what trouble we’d caused all those years ago in Vegas was gone now that we did know. While it didn’t undo the reckless events of our past, having answers was preferable. For me, at least.
Even if it was weird, the feeling in my chest at the thought that Luca and Allie were connected in this way, I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt it before. I made it my business to feel as little as possible—especially when it came to the women I slept with.
“Well, glad we know,” I announced flatly, earning a series of unenthusiastic nods from my three companions. “I’ll get the lawyer as soon as possible. Make it easier on you two.” The sooner we were all done here, the sooner I could get as far from Allie Tate and her confusing effects on my body and brain as possible.
“Don’t stress about it,” Luca said hurriedly, and Allie was watching him closely as his face flushed a little. It was more obvious than it should have been under the fluorescent lights. Another prickle of curiosity crept over me. “I, uh. I just mean it’s not…as urgent as we thought. I don’t have a company to worry about. So…take the time you need.”
True enough. Luca’s work as a children’s soccer coach certainly wouldn’t be negatively impacted by his being accidentally married. Not like my reputation as CEO of Ratliff Records. Still, Cade and I exchanged a knowing look at his apparent reluctance to get the annulment on the books. I saw Allie reach out to touch Luca’s arm, comforting him andthanking him at once, and it was like I felt her touch on my own skin.What the hell, Gavin?I made myself look away.
We still had the issue of paternity to sort out, of course. I didn’t bring it up for fear of causing another scene like we’d had outside of the beach house. But Cade seemed to have it on his mind, because before Allie could leave, he blurted out, “Guess we’ll hear from you soon on…on the other thing.”
I watched Allie and Cade exchange a weighty look, then she nodded again and was gone.
“There goes your wife,” I joked at a murmur. Luca’s answering laugh was barely amused at all.
16
ALLIE
Due to a series of character flaws, I was running fifteen minutes late getting to my mom and dad’s house for our regular family dinner. That meant two things. One, my dad had definitely started eating without us. And two, my mom was probably pacing the kitchen, worrying that I was dead in a ditch somewhere.
From the back seat, Daphne kicked her little sneakers against her car seat. “Mommy, I’m hungry. When are we getting to Gram-Gram’s?”
“I know, baby,” I soothed my sweet, growing-impatient little girl. “But look. We’re finally here, and that means you get dinner in just a second.”
I pulled into the driveway of the cozy blue house I’d grown up in, letting out a breath. I could already see the glow of the kitchen light through the front window, the silhouettes of my parents moving around. I could almost hear the muffled hum of my dad’s favorite oldies radio station.
Daphne bounced in excitement as I parked. “Do you think Poppy made chili?”
“Knowing him? Definitely.” It was getting to be actual springtime, and though SoCal didn’t get real winter, Dad still would be trying to squeeze every last ounce of cozy comfort food from the season.
I climbed out and opened Daphne’s door, helping her unbuckle before she scrambled into my arms. Even though she was four now—practically a big kid, in her words—she still loved when Mommy carried her, especially when we were going to someplace as comfortable and familiar as Gram-Gram and Poppy’s house.
The second I pushed through the front door, the familiar squeaky hinge announcing our presence, the smell of chili and cornbread wrapped around me like a hug.
“We’re here,” I called out as I headed into the kitchen. My dad stood at the stove, stirring the pot with the same well-worn wooden spoon he’d probably had since before I was born.
“Finally,” he said, grinning as he turned toward us. “Ang, Alligator is finally here!” he called back through the house, and I heard my mom’s loving “about time” from the small dining room.
“Sorry we’re late,” I told both of my parents as Mom finally came into the room, her gray hair piled into a clip at the back of her head.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mom said. She came to kiss me and Daphne each on the cheek, her warm smile just as comforting as the chili. “I know you’re busy. But if you were any later, I would have called all of the local hospitals.” I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. “Besides, you know your dad gets impatient.”
“I thought I was gonna have to eat all of Mom’s cornbread by myself.”
Mom had gone to college in the South, and had picked up some grade-A Southern cooking tips while she was there. Hercornbread was to die for, and it went perfectly with Dad’s chili—spicy as he could take it, though there would be a smaller batch with less heat for Daphne too.
Daphne wiggled in my arms, and I set her down. She ran straight to my dad, who scooped her up and propped her on his hip with a very grandpa groan.
“You’re getting big, little one,” he pointed out, making my heart clench.
“Poppy!” she squealed. “You’re not supposed to eat all the cornbread.”
