by Shirley Jump
His father had stood there, silent. Even after the door shut and Dylan climbed in his car, Jonathon had stayed inside, stubborn to the very end. In the years since, there’d only been a handful of stilted phone calls on holidays and birthdays. In every one of them, his father had talked about how good Sam had turned out, with the implication that Dylan was still nothing but a disappointment.
“I was hoping he’d change,” Dylan said, “but some people never do. The only way you find out if they’re gonna change, though, is to give them the opportunity.” He thought of the kid he had hired, the kid who had screwed up but come back twice as good after Dylan gave him a second chance.
“I don’t think my dad’s gonna change,” Cody said. He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but clearly it did. “Thanks for the fishing.”
“Anytime, Cody.” The teenager ambled off. Dylan waited a few minutes, busying himself with tidying up the pontoon boat, before following.
Dylan stowed the coolers in the back of Abby’s car, then turned and noticed her holding a sleeping Jake in her arms and struggling under the weight of the four-year-old. Cody was already sitting in his mother’s car, ready to leave. The hoodie was over his face, and he was glued to his phone.
“Here, let me take Jake,” Dylan said to Abby, reaching for her son.
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t.” He put his arms out. Abby relented and transferred her son, who barely stirred.
Jake’s weight settled over Dylan like a thick, heavy blanket. Dylan had never held a kid like this before. He’d had friends who had babies and kids, of course, but he’d never held any of them. There was something warm and nice about the way Jake nestled into Dylan’s shoulder, his arms going tight around Dylan’s back. He smelled of Johnson’s Baby Shampoo, which rocketed Dylan back to after-dinner baths and water fights with his brother.
He followed Abby to her car and waited while she unlocked the doors. As he moved to lower Jake into his booster seat, the boy stirred. “T’ank you for fishing,” he said. “I had fun, Uncle Dylan.”
Uncle Dylan?
“Glad you had fun, Jake,” Dylan said, because he didn’t know what to say to the uncle thing, so instead he latched Jake’s seat belt.
“Can we go again? Soon?” Jake asked. Beside his brother, Cody watched for Dylan’s answer, feigning teenage indifference.
“Uh, sure.” But as Dylan made the promise, he realized he couldn’t necessarily keep it. Another week, and he was due to be in Maine. The projects at the center would be done by then, and hopefully Ty would be back at work, which would let Dylan hit the road. Leave Stone Gap.
Leave Jake and Cody. And Abby.
It would be best for all of them, he told himself. Before they all got too attached. Like Jake with the puppy. Except...the little boy had become attached to that dog within seconds.
Abby stowed her purse in the car, then slipped into the driver’s seat. “Thank you, Dylan. I agree with Jake. It was a great day.”
“You’re welcome. Glad you all had fun. And congrats on winning the fishing contest.” He gave her a grin. “I might have exaggerated my fishing skills.”
She laughed. “You caught one. That’s better than none. And you still get to partake in the winner’s prize, if you want to come to dinner with us.”
“Do we really have to go to that vegetarian place?” Cody leaned over the seat. “I hate that food, Mom. It makes me want to barf.”
Abby chuckled, her mood still light and fun. Dylan liked her like this, unfettered, unstressed. “How about a compromise,” she said to her eldest son, “since you were one heck of a fisherman yourself today. Burgers on the grill?”
Cody brightened, then he dimmed the emotion as if he was afraid to be caught looking happy. “Sure, that would be okay, I guess.”
“Dylan, are you comin’ to our bar-b-cue?” Jake asked.
Dylan hesitated. Abby had invited him to the restaurant a second ago, but he wasn’t sure if it was a real invitation or one of those people threw out to be polite. He should probably get some more work done anyway. The clock to his departure was ticktocking away. And the more he tied himself up with this family—this woman—the harder it would be to leave.
“Jake, I’m sure Dylan has other things to do tonight,” Abby said. “We’ve already taken so much of his time.”
“But I want him to come, Mom. He’s my friend.”
The word hit Dylan smack in the chest. Friend. Uncle Dylan. In just a few short days, Jake had bonded with Dylan.
The little boy didn’t see Dylan’s past or Dylan’s shortcomings. He took him at face value and saw him as a buddy. Someone with a shared affinity for dinosaurs and burgers.
Which Dylan realized wasn’t such a bad feeling. He glanced over at Cody and saw the older boy was also waiting for Dylan’s answer. The two of them, depending on him. He wasn’t the kind of guy they could depend on, but he didn’t say that. There was something...magical in the air right now, that floated in the happy mood between the Cooper family and himself. Dylan didn’t want to be the one who brought that back to earth.
Besides, it was just a barbecue, he told himself. Not a lifetime commitment.
“How about I bring some potato salad?” he said.
A smile curved across Abby’s face. “Sure. That would be nice. Come by after five.”
“Great. See you then.” He waved to the boys, then shut Abby’s car door and headed back to his truck, his steps lighter. A barbecue. It didn’t get more American, apple-pie than that. Dylan climbed inside his Jeep and started the engine.
“She’s a keeper,” Uncle Ty said.
“Who?”
His uncle gave him an unamused look. “Just because I’m old and a little slow doesn’t mean I’m dim-witted, too. Abby is who. She’s the kind of woman a smart man keeps for a lifetime.”
Dylan put up his hands. “Whoa, whoa. I’m just going to a barbecue, Uncle Ty. Not a wedding.”
“Then be careful. I saw how those boys look at you. They already see you as part of the family. And Abby...”
“Abby what?” Dylan prompted. He was curious and also didn’t want to know at the same time. Because he already knew how Jake felt—Uncle Dylan—and if Abby was starting to depend on him, think about a future...
Ty didn’t say anything for a moment. Dylan turned out of the parking lot, heading in the opposite direction of Abby. A moment later, her car disappeared from his rearview.
“Just don’t break her heart,” his uncle said finally. “She’s a good woman, and like I told you, she’s been through a lot.”
Dylan let out a gust. “Why does everyone expect the worst of me?”
Ty shifted in his seat and gave his nephew a hard look. “I never said you were no good for her. I just said be careful and don’t hurt her. I know you’re not planning on staying around, and Abby is the staying-around kind.”
“I know that already.” It was the exact war he’d been having in his own head.
“I see how you look at her. It’s the same way I looked at Virginia when I first met her.”
Dylan took a right, then a left, winding his way through Stone Gap and back to Uncle Ty’s house, a few blocks away from the center. When the weather was good, Ty and Virginia would walk to and from the center, hand in hand, talking the whole way, their laughter so frequent, it seemed to bubble between them with each step. Dylan had always thought his aunt and uncle had it right and perfect, one of those rare relationships where the two made for perfect complements.
“Well, what you and Aunt Virginia had is about as common as a two-headed penny.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t happen to you, if you ever decide to stay in one place longer than five minutes and hitch your star to one woman.”
Dylan scowled. “How did a simple fishing trip turn into a lecture about me se
ttling down and getting married?”
Ty grinned, the first smile Dylan had seen in hours on his uncle’s face. “Don’t you know, Dylan? Sometimes when you go fishing, you catch something completely unexpected. A real prize.”
* * *
Abby took a long hot shower after she got home from fishing. She shaved her legs, curled her hair, spritzed on a little perfume and redid her makeup.
For a barbecue.
She changed her outfit twice, finally settling on a pair of skinny jeans and a navy blue loose flowy blouse. She straightened a house that didn’t need straightening, rummaged through her pantry for a boxed dessert that she could whip up, then made the hamburger patties.
When her phone rang at four thirty, Abby steeled herself, sure it was Dylan calling to cancel. Telling herself that would be best, because she was already starting to fall for him.
Instead of Dylan, her sister Melanie’s name lit up the phone. “Hey, Mel,” Abby said when she answered. “How are you?”
“Driving home from work in rush-hour traffic from hell. I thought leaving a little early would help me miss it, but no.” Melanie sighed. “I’ve got to go to a big meeting with an advertiser tonight. You know, fancy restaurant, the whole schmoozing thing.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was in a fancy restaurant,” Abby said. “So how’s Adam?”
A hesitation on Melanie’s end. “Everyone’s great. Just great. You know, the usual, working a lot, spending a lot, sleeping too little. I think we might take our winter vacation in Europe this year.”
“Europe, huh?” Abby had to admit she felt a pang of envy. That was the kind of vacation she’d never be able to afford for her kids. Melanie was free and loose, without kids to tie her down. “Glad everything is going well. You sound great.”
“Yeah, yeah. I am.”
There was something off in Melanie’s voice, though, something that nagged at Abby. Maybe her sister wasn’t as happy as she made herself out to be. Or maybe the traffic just had her off center. “You doing okay?” Abby asked. “I mean, you don’t call me that often and—”
“I’m just catching up, Abs.” Melanie let out an irritated sigh. “Why are you giving me the third degree?”
“Sorry.” Abby switched topics, and forced a brightness into her tone. “Your birthday is coming up. Why don’t I buy you a plane ticket, and you can come down here and visit me? I know the kids would love to see you. Oh, and do you remember Harris McCarthy from high school? He’s been back in town recently. He’s a builder or something and was working on a project nearby for some retired baseball player. I saw it in the paper the other day. Small world, isn’t it?”
Her sister seemed to hesitate. “Harris McCarthy? From high school? I... I hardly remember him.”
Abby laughed. “Right. You were head over heels for him in high school. I always thought you two would end up together. Guess you hit the jackpot elsewhere, though.”
“Yeah, well, happy endings don’t always come true.” Melanie let out a breath, then her voice brightened. “Anyway, I should go. I’ve got...traffic. Meeting. All that stuff. Bye, Ab!”
Her sister was gone. Abby worried about Melanie’s out-of-the-blue call for a second, then brushed it off. Melanie had that jet-set life, was editor of a major magazine, married to a man who used to be a model. So what if she rarely called? Maybe reaching out signaled a change in their relationship. Besides, if there was one thing Melanie didn’t need, it was someone worrying.
A little before five, her doorbell rang. Abby checked her hair and makeup in the hall mirror, then cursed herself for worrying what she looked like. This wasn’t a date, it was a cookout—a cookout her son had invited Dylan to attend. But when she pulled her door open and saw Dylan, it was a little hard to remember that.
Dylan had showered and changed, too, and she could smell the soapy freshness of his skin. His hair was still damp, the longish dark brown locks curling at his neck and by his ears. He had on jeans and a dark green T-shirt that hugged his chest, rolling and dipping over muscles that seemed to beg her to touch. Abby had to remind herself to breathe.
“Potato salad,” Dylan said, handing her a ceramic bowl topped with plastic wrap.
She arched a brow. “Did you make this yourself?”
“Nope.” He chuckled. “I have no cooking ability, remember? I asked Della where to find the best potato salad in Stone Gap, and she said, ‘right here in my own kitchen.’ Then she made up a batch and told me to make sure Jake and Cody got these for later, and for just them, not us grownups.” Dylan handed her a plastic sandwich bag stuffed with chocolate chip cookies.
“Good thing I made brownies too, so I get my chocolate fix. Della is awesome. She spoils my boys rotten. I swear, she’s like everyone’s grandma.” Abby opened the door wider and waved Dylan in and then started talking a mile a minute to cover for her nerves. “For a while, she was babysitting your brother’s two kids. Jake and Henry got along really well. In fact, Henry and Libby are at the center at least once a week. You’ll probably see them soon. You should see how big Henry’s gotten. He talks as much as Jake, and when they’re together at preschool, they go on and on more than a Congressional debate. It’s nice to see how Sam’s kids have blossomed since Katie came into their lives.”
“I’ve, ah, never met Libby or Henry.” Dylan grabbed the tray of hamburger patties and followed Abby into the backyard. “And who’s Katie?”
He didn’t know about his brother’s fiancée? That seemed strange. Then she remembered he had said he didn’t get along that well with his brother anymore. She wondered what had driven them apart. She’d met Sam briefly—she knew his kids and fiancée much better—and found him to be a nice guy, sort of an older version of Dylan.
“Katie is a sister to one of the Barlows and moved here a little while ago.” Abby pressed the button to light the grill. Flames whooshed under the steel grate. “Sam hired her to be his nanny, and five minutes later, he fell in love. You should see him. Sam goes around town, grinning like a total fool. They’re getting married at the end of the month.”
“Guess I have been gone a long time.” A mix of emotions ran across Dylan’s features. She could see he was hurt that his brother had left him out of the loop about his life. Maybe, given enough time in Stone Gap, Dylan and Sam could mend their broken fences.
Jake came barreling across the yard and plowed straight into Dylan’s legs. “You came to our party!”
Abby laughed. “Jake, one guest doesn’t make a party.”
Dylan bent down to her son’s level. “Thank you for inviting me, Jake,” he said. “And I think it’s a party if you have balloons.”
Jake pouted. “I don’t have any balloons. Cuz it’s not my birthday.”
Dylan fished in his pocket and pulled out a handful of brightly colored uninflated balloons. “If you help me blow these up, then we’ll have balloons. Even if it’s not anybody’s birthday.”
Abby tended the burgers while Dylan and Jake competed to blow up balloons the fastest. In minutes, they had a dozen filled, and Jake took off, playing kickball with one of them and laughing when it floated away from his foot. Cody helped, too, tying the balloons for Jake and inflating a few of his own. Mrs. Reynolds came over and brought the puppies, who tumbled over their big feet, running after Jake and the balloons. Jake’s smile was as wide and bright as the North Carolina sky. Dylan dropped to the ground, while the puppies and Jake climbed all over him.
She watched them and had the same feeling she’d had out on the lake. That this was what a family with two parents—two involved, caring parents—could look like. It was a dangerous thought, a very dangerous thought. She knew better than to dream of an impossible future.
She’d always thought of herself as pragmatic, sensible. But when it came to her boys and the family she dreamed of having, the hopeless romantic kept trying to make her believe in some
white picket fantasy. This was just a barbecue, just a handful of balloons. Not a life.
And this man, no matter how much she was attracted to him or how much she craved his touch, wasn’t interested in anything permanent.
“That was thoughtful of you to bring those. The kids are really having fun,” Abby said to Dylan. Such a simple thing, a handful of balloons, but the joy on Jake’s face caused a lump in Abby’s throat.
How she didn’t want to like this guy, or rely on him, or bring him any further into their lives. Every time she thought she had resolve, he did something sweet, and all her resistance melted.
Dylan shrugged. “I used to be a kid once. I saw these at the center when I stopped by there this morning with my uncle and thought Jake might like them. They’re not puppies, but they’re still fun.”
Damn him for being so considerate. She turned away and concentrated on the burgers. Because that was easier than dealing with the conflicting emotions running through her.
Dylan moved into the space beside her. The heat from his body mingled with the heat from the grill. She wanted to reach out and touch him, feel the muscles underneath his shirt. Lean into him for another of those amazing kisses.
“Hey, you had a hard day,” Dylan said. “Hell, a hard week, between working, helping at the center, and taking care of the boys. Why don’t you let me grill?”
“I thought you couldn’t cook.”
“I can’t. But when it comes to tending something on a fire, I’m your man.” He flexed a biceps and gave her a grin.
I’m your man.
The words hit her hard and carved a chink in that wall Abby had kept around her heart for years. How she wanted to believe those words, even if he was saying them as a joke. How she wanted to trust that he was the kind of man who would stay around, who would be a role model for her boys, who would share the workload that weighed heavy on her shoulders, who would treat her with kindness and love.
But she knew better. Dylan himself had told her he wasn’t hanging around. That he wasn’t the kind of guy to put down roots.
