“I love you.” Jordan kissed her son and Emily repeated the sentiment, patting his head. Gloria guessed the other woman would sooner die than lift her tailored jacket to swipe the tears from Hawk’s cheeks.
Hawk continued stomping and crying and a few passersby turned their heads to look.
Asher brushed by Gloria, his face contorted into a mask of pain. This had to be hurting him, seeing that his son didn’t want to come with him.
“Come on, bud. Let’s hang out today, okay?” He lifted his son off the ground and Hawk continued to wail, kicking his legs as Emily and Jordan blew kisses and walked for the car.
“Tank,” Gloria suggested over Hawk’s cries.
Asher nodded.
“Hawk. Look at the doggie. He’s excited you’re coming.” Ash physically turned his son away from Emily’s SUV. Hawk sniffled and turned his head over his shoulder to find Tank. “You like him?”
“Yeah,” Hawk said tentatively, tears drying on his face. The meltdown had ended as quickly as it started. Glo could only hope that was the last one today.
“Doggie! Down, down, down!” Hawk kicked his legs, and Asher deposited him on the bench, lifting Tank to sit on the bench with him. He snatched up the coffee cups before boy and dog knocked them over. Gloria accepted hers with a tight smile.
“This is cutting me to the quick, Sarge.” He shook his head, his eyes on his son. “And it’s not even his fault.”
“He’ll come around,” she said, smiling as Hawk and Tank played.
“You think?” Asher sought an answer on her face, watching her for so many seconds, she started to sweat. There seemed to be another silent question in the depths of his eyes. A question about her, and whether she’d come around as well.
She didn’t answer that question.
She didn’t dare.
Chapter 7
Lord have mercy, he was tired.
On more than one occasion, Asher had spent the day on a boat with Evan and Lyon. He’d taken for granted that Evan knew his own kid and Lyon knew his dad. Hawk and Asher weren’t strangers, but they didn’t have the closeness a father and son should have. Not yet.
Also, Lyon was several years older than Hawk. Hawk was three. Age three must be synonymous with “tornado on two legs.” Today hadn’t been quite the relaxing outing he’d pictured.
He’d imagined getting his son in the water, them splashing around a while, maybe floating in an inner tube. And then watching Tank doggie paddle—in his own dog life jacket—while Hawk laughed and clapped. Since Gloria had let him talk her into going, he further imagined her on the deck of the boat, phone to her ear, that gorgeous white dress blowing in the breeze. Lifting just enough to give him a view of her delicious thighs.
Things had been less like the music video he’d directed in his head and more like a nightmare on the open water. Hawk was mad about everything. He cried when Tank came near, he cried when Tank ran away. He wailed because he wanted in the water, only to wail that he wanted out once he was wet. Gloria didn’t spend the day on the deck watching the water and sending him flirtatious winks—how could she? Hawk was in mid-fit most of the day, making it impossible for her to excuse herself to take the constant incoming calls on her cell phone.
Surprisingly, the only moment of peace came when the three of them sat down to eat. Asher had no idea if he’d prepared Hawk’s sandwich right, or if the kid even liked cheese sandwiches, or if Hawk would sooner throw his animal crackers overboard than eat a single one.
But Hawk ate. He ate and smiled and fed Tank half his food, which was fine by Asher (and extra fine for Tank) because for once his son wasn’t crying. Gloria joined them, but she’d gone so quiet, he couldn’t get a read on her. Not that he had the space to ask her how she was. While he drove the boat, she sat with Hawk and pointed out gulls. When Ash was with Hawk, she kept her distance from them both.
“I’m going to go,” Gloria announced. They’d docked at Asher’s house and he’d carried a sleeping Hawk inside, happy about getting to hold him and happy he was asleep in equal measures. His boy was sunned and surfed and cried out. Thank God. Asher was exhausted.
“Don’t go,” he told Glo. “Hang out. I’ll make you a cocktail.”
“A cocktail.” Her red lipstick had since worn off, and her plump lips pressed into a line.
“Yeah.” He let loose a tired smile. “We can sit on the deck and talk.” God. That sounded great. Apparently not to her. Her eyebrows crashed over her nose.
“You know, you pulled me into this day with you and your son. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want it.”
Fuck. He wondered if her silence meant she was pissed today. He gestured to the front door and Glo crossed her arms defiantly. He dropped his hand and lowered his voice. “Can we bitch at each other outside?”
God help them all if Hawk woke up right now.
She took in Hawk’s temporary sleeping spot on the couch and then marched out the back door. Ash looked at the ceiling, then at Hawk, who was definitely snoozing, and followed her out to the deck. The second he was outside, she lit into him.
“You know what I’d like? I’d like not to be pulled into the drama going on between you and Jordan.”