Admitting his geek crush on Simone had been the scariest thing he’d ever done, and that included waiting for Zander’s verdict on who had survived the weekly audition cull, delivered in front of millions of viewers.
But his courage had paid off. Yeah, he’d squirmed revealing how deep—or shallow—his egotism had gone at the time, but it wasn’t as if Kayla had been unaware of it. Their ‘first date’ at Joy Bar had made that pretty clear.
He was stirring marshmallows into the hot chocolates when Kayla came into the kitchen and settled on a stool on the other side of the counter.
“Maddie okay?”
“Now that she’s had a sympathy cuddle.”
He slid the mug over the Carrara marble. “Did you notice when you were working full time that the kids turned to me, first?” He risked another exposure. “Did it bother you?”
“Totally. I wanted to say, ‘No, I’m the mommy, pick me.’” She sipped her hot chocolate. “But there were advantages to being a novelty. When I walked in the door I got the wild joy, the ‘Wow, it’s you!’ That helped. When you’re always there, you get completely taken for granted.”
Never again, he promised her silently.
She put down her mug. “You do miss some big milestones. I wasn’t there for Rocco’s first smile or Maddie’s first swimming lesson but I got his second, and Maddie loved reenacting her triumphs in the bath.” Her eyes were full of kindness.
“I miss my kids,” he admitted. “It ripped my heart out every time I left for tour. When you said in the bar that the kids are over my absence ten minutes after our Skype calls, I was hurt for a minute. Selfish huh? I should be glad they don’t miss me.”
“They do miss you,” she said, “but I manage it. At this age, I can distract them. Touring might not work when they’re teenagers, but it works now.”
I do not deserve this woman. If I really deserved her I would offer—
“Daddy!”
Kayla looked at him and smiled. Lifted her palm.
“Is that a tag or a high-five?”
“Both.” They slapped palms.
“Coming, Maddie.” As he walked past, he spun Kayla’s stool around and kissed her. “Maybe we should all get an early night.”
“See you in bed.”
“Daddy!”
He continued to his daughter’s room, Meatloaf singing in his head about the anything he’d do for love, except… Then he saw Maddie and forgot everything else. She was flushed and snotty and miserable. “Daddy.”
“Yeah, baby, what do you need?”
“I’m sick.”
He helped her blow her nose. “You’ll get better soon.”
“You said if I’m sick I can sleep in your bed.”
He thought of Kayla waiting for him, of how close they were to recapturing their former intimacy. Thought of the man he was trying to be. Opened his arms. “Of course you can.”
Chapter Twelve
“So, I guess you’re fucked, then,” Greg said cheerfully as Jared ladled beef pot roast onto his brother-in-law’s proffered plate, two days later.
“Kids at the table,” Kayla warned.
“Oh, shit…takers. Sorry.”
Jared glanced to his left, where Rocco sat in his highchair happily chewing on a bone, then to his right where Maddie sat next to Uncle Greg, quietly eating her dinner. Except for the occasional sniffle, she was back in good spirits. Clearly. Her expression reminded him of a gleeful squirrel collecting swear nuts for winter.
Greg looked penitent until Kayla twisted to wipe gravy off Rocco’s face, then he winked at Jared with casual misogyny.
“Let me rephrase that for the ladies present. So, I guess you’re screwed then, buddy.” He couldn’t quite hide his glee as he piled potatoes onto his meat.
His brother-in-law loved and hated their success in equal measure. Jared picked up his knife and fork and said blandly, “Nope, I’m not following.” You passive-aggressive fuckwit.
“Isn’t that why you’re selling this place? Because Zander Freedman’s screwed everything up?” Greg was a big guy with a big mouth, his sister’s brown eyes, and none of her intelligence. Possibly through taking too many hits in college football. “How can the band survive with your lead singer owing all that money?”
“It could take a while for the insurance company and Zander to resolve things,” Jared said vaguely. There was no way he was sharing Plan B with this guy. “Downsizing is simply a precautionary measure.”
Greg looked across the table at his sister. “Will you move home to Bridgeton if it all turns to sh—crap?
“We have no plans to,” Jared answered. We? I don’t recall you giving her a choice. At least the Grammy nomination eased some of the pressure. If Rage fell apart, he and a new band would have more credibility going forward.
“Mommy, when we move, where will we live?” With Maddie’s cold nearly gone, she’d regained her usual alertness.
“With each other, same as always.”
“You want to come home, though, don’t you, Kayla?” Greg reached past Jared for the bowl of peas. “Didn’t you tell Mom you were homesick as hell? Hated L.A.?”