Chapter 51
Taking a deep breath, Gavin forces himself to calm down. She’s right, he knows. She doesn’t have anyone but Evie in her life—no lover, no other adult to share her days with, to unburden her worries and fears and troubles to, no one but a little seven year old girl who relies on her for everything in life. That sort of pressure can be daunting; Gavin feels it when he has Evie on the weekends, and sometimes it terrifies him to know how much his daughter blindly assumes he’ll protect and look after her. By the end of the weekend, he’s ready for a break.
So how does Marian feel?
“You’re lonely,” Gavin says softly. He reaches out for her, taking her hands in his and holding them like a buffer between their bodies. She starts to cry harder and tries to pull away, but he holds on tight. “Marian, listen. It isn’t me you want. You’re a wonderful mother, and an amazing woman, and you deserve to be happy. Don’t shake your head—you do. You do.”
As she gives into her tears, she raises her hands to her face and Gavin wraps his arms around her shuddering shoulders. She cries against his chest, heavy tears, as everything inside that’s been building up all these years finally lets go. Gavin holds her and waits out the storm.
When her sobs taper off, she sighs in Gavin’s embrace, then pulls back. Wiping the heel of her hand under her eyes, she fans her face and sighs. “God, I’m sorry. I must look a mess.”
“You’re a beautiful woman,” Gavin assures her.
She blinks as she looks up at the ceiling, trying not to smudge her eye makeup any more than she already has. “I’m a fucking raccoon at the moment. Let me go freshen up. There’s—ugh.” She sighs again and sniffles, getting herself back under control. “There’s wine in the kitchen. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—I don’t blame you if you want to leave. But I did make spaghetti. There’s enough for two if you still want something to eat.”
Gavin gives her a tentative smile. “Thanks, I’d like that.”
She runs a finger under her eyes and smudges her eyeliner. “Good. Get a drink while I fix myself up and you can tell me about this Brody guy you’re seeing over dinner. Why do you get to be lucky in love and not me?”
“You can find someone, too,” Gavin tells her. “Get out there, go on dates. Live a little.”
With a snort, Marian asks, “And leave Evie here by herself? Hardly.”
“Let your mom watch her,” Gavin says. “Hell, let mewatch her. She and Brody get along. If you ever need a little downtime during the week, drop her off at my place.”
She gives him a surprised but grateful look. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
Gavin shrugs. “She’s my daughter, too. Just call to give me a head’s up. I don’t have to onlytake her every other weekend, you know.”
A slow smile spreads across Marian’s face. “Thanks. Do you really think I’m beautiful?”
“Evie gets it from somewhere,” Gavin says with a grin. 39
From the bathroom, Marian calls out, “Drain the pasta, please! I don’t want it to overcook.”
Gavin heads for the kitchen, where he takes the boiling pot of pasta off the stove and drains it into the strainer already resting in the sink. Then he clicks off the burner and stirs the sauce. The smell of garlic permeates the kitchen, and he clicks on the light inside the oven to check on the bread he knows Marian has toasting on the broiler. It’s cheesy and golden, so he takes the sheet out of the oven and sets it on the counter.
His stomach rumbles appreciatively.
Marian bustles into the kitchen, hair still pulled up prettily, but her face has a freshly scrubbed look and her makeup is gone. The dress has been replaced by a T-shirt and cut-off shorts. Her feet are bare. “God,” she sighs, heading straight for the wine bottle to pour herself a glass. She downs it in one long swallow, then pours another glass to savor. Then she leans back against the sink and looks at him with eyes still red from crying. “Sorry about that.”
Gavin assures her, “I know it’s hard for you. Evie can be quite a handful at times—“
She interrupts him with a bitter laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. So tell me about this new man in your life.”
“Brody’s great,” Gavin says with a grin. “I think you’ll really like him. Evie does.”
“Evie likes everybody.” Setting aside her glass, she reaches past him to stir the sauce. “Let me do this. Pour yourself some wine and have a seat.”
Gavin doesn’t have to be told twice. He isn’t completely inept in the kitchen, but he’d rather not cook if he can avoid it. That’s why he and Brody eat out a lot.