Sticks and Stones (Vista Falls #5) Page 6

  “I think so.” She bit her lip. “You sure you haven’t been that kind of sad since we left?”

  “No, baby.” He gave her a reassuring hug. “I’d never do anything like that. I have too much to live for, too much to look forward to, like you girls graduating, getting married, having kids of your own.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, that’s a long way off, Dad.”

  “Okay, how about getting your driver’s license and your first boyfriend then?”

  “Now that I’m looking forward to,” she said, grinning.

  “I hate that I won’t be around to vet those boys though,” he said, scowling. “I want them to know that if they mess with you I won’t hesitate to break both their legs.”

  She giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re being overprotective.”

  “I’m serious,” he said, frowning at her. “And don’t think I wouldn’t do it.”

  “I know you would.” She grabbed his hand. “Mom probably would have liked to know you’d go to the same lengths to protect her.”

  “God,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “Haven’t we been through all this? I was a thoughtless jerk. Message received.”

  “But it’s not too late to change, Dad.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, sweetie. I put your mom through a lot. She’d have to be crazy to give me another chance.”

  “Then you’re just giving up?” she asked, crossing her arms. “’Cause that doesn’t sound like you. Since when do you just give up on something you want?”

  Never. “I hear what you’re saying, but I have to think about what’s best for her too. I don’t want to be in her life unless I’m sure I can make her happy this time around.”

  “And you don’t think you could?”

  He considered that a minute before he said, “I’d have to change a hell of a lot.”

  “And do you want to change?”

  His life had seemed pretty bleak and hollow the past year. “I do. Not just for your mom. Not even for you guys, though that’s reason enough. I guess getting famous has been my goal for so long that I never took the time to deal with my own issues.”

  “Are you talking about your childhood?”

  It was no secret he had no family and had grown up in the system. “Yeah. That kind of upbringing affects a kid. It’s bound to. It affects the man that kid becomes too. But I’ve always been afraid to be alone with my thoughts long enough to really dissect it, if that makes sense?”

  “Makes perfect sense to me.” She leaned over and reached into her nightstand, pulling out a hardbound floral book. “Maybe you should think about starting one of these.” At his quizzical expression, she smiled. “It’s a journal.”

  “Have long have you been keeping one?” he asked, thinking there was too much about his kids he didn’t know.

  “For a long time. It helps a lot. Especially when you and mom split. I didn’t want to talk to my friends about it and mom was going through her own stuff.”

  “What about your sister? Couldn’t you have talked to her?”

  “I guess,” she said, shrugging. “But she had her own way of dealing with it. I had mine.”

  “So, what else do you write in this journal of yours?” he asked, crossing his arms.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She giggled when he scowled. “It’s just a way for me to pour my heart out, I guess. I can express my thoughts, feelings, everything. If I’m mad and want to hit someone or hurt and want to cry, I can let it all out in here.”

  “Sounds like a valuable book.”

  She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a blue book with swirls decorating the cover. She checked inside to make sure it hadn’t been used. “I know this is probably a little girly for you, but at least it’ll help you get started.”

  He took the book before leaning into kiss her cheek. “Thanks, hon.”

  “That’s all it takes, you know, Dad. No one expects you to change overnight. Just show Mom you’re trying and maybe she’d be willing to meet you halfway.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  ***

  They were sitting around the kitchen table, enjoying his favorite dinner, when Gunnar silently acknowledged he was a lucky man. He’d achieved so much, accomplished so many of his goals already. Now he had the freedom to just enjoy time with his family.

  “So, when do you have to get back, Dad?” Keegan asked, stealing the last bite of chicken off the platter in the center of the table.

  “I’m not sure.” He’d ignored all of the messages from his agent and manager. Even his bandmates. Whatever was going on at home, he wanted no part of it. “I was thinking I might stick around ’til your mom kicks me out.” He winked at Gianna, but she looked flustered and dipped her head.

  “It’s been nice having you around,” Ramsey said, looking back and forth between her parents. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to hang out like this, as a family.”

  A family. The one thing Gunnar had wanted more than anything as a kid was a family of his own. He wanted someone to take him to a real home, one where he was sure he’d be able to stay. He wanted someone to make it legal, but no one had. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Gianna wanted the same thing he had… to make it legal.

  “You girls need to finish your homework?” Gunnar asked, looking around the table. “If you need any help—”

  “We’ve got it, Dad,” Keegan said as both girls stood in unison. “You need help cleaning up, Mom?”

  “I’ll help her,” Gunnar offered, anxious to get a little alone time with Gianna. He knew she’d likely let him have it over that kiss, but he couldn’t be sorry it happened. It felt amazing having her back in his arms again.

  “Cool,” Ramsey said, rushing her sister up the stairs.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Gianna asked, reaching for the girls’ plates and stacking them on top of hers.

  “Let’s leave that for a minute,” he said, moving to the chair Ramsey had vacated. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

  “About what?”

  “Where we go from here?”

  She heaved a sigh before pushing her chair back. “Damn it, Gunnar. I don’t know what you want me to say. You waltz back into my life and start talking about the future when I’d already put you firmly in my past.”

  “I wasn’t ready to be the man you needed me to be,” he said gently. “Not then. But maybe now—”

  “You can’t build a future on maybes. We tried that once before, remember?”

  She had every reason to be guarded with him. He’d already let her down numerous times before.

  “I know I was a lousy boyfriend, but I really think I could do better this time.”

  “I don’t want you to be my boyfriend,” she said, looking sullen. “I’m not twenty anymore. I need more than that.”

  “I get that, but we have to start somewhere, right?”

  “We already know each other better than we know anyone else on the planet,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “We shared our lives for fifteen years. How can we possibly go back to being what we were? It wasn’t enough for me then and it won’t be enough for me now.”

  Her tone softened when she said, “Look, I don’t think you’re a bad guy. And I don’t resent you. Not anymore. I just think we’re different people who want different things out of life, and that’s okay. But we can’t continue trying to force something that was never meant to be.”

  Never meant to be. Those words echoed in his ears, mocking him. He felt the opposite was true, that Gianna was the only part of his old life that had been real. “I used to wonder why the hell you craved quiet and solitude. I’d watch you retreat to our bedroom with a book and wonder what was wrong with you.”

  Her lips tipped up. “I remember. I tried explaining to you that I was just an introvert. I needed my alone time.”

  “Yeah, and you’d tell me these stories about how you grew up. The fun you used to have in a small town, an
d it all sounded boring as hell to me. I needed action and excitement the way most people need food and air.”

  “I know.”

  “But the past little while, I’ve been feeling unsettled, like maybe I don’t belong in that world anymore. I’ve started bailing early at parties, dodging invitations, even fans. I dress to blend in now, not to stand out. Instead of a stretch limo, I’d rather hop in my truck and—”

  “Wait a second,” Gianna said, raising her hand. “Did I just hear you say you bought a truck? Like a pickup truck?”

  He chuckled. “Well, it’s a Cadillac, but yeah. I just find it easier to blend in when you’re not riding around in a vehicle that makes you stand out.”

  “Makes sense, I guess,” she said, reaching for her glass of wine.

  “As a kid, I felt invisible.” He swallowed, remembering how painful those days had been. “I’d been told children weren’t to be seen or heard and I’d usually be banished to my room by my foster parents. They had one job: to keep me alive so they could collect the check.”

  “I’m sorry, Gunnar,” she said, leaning over to cover his hand with hers. “That must have been awful.”

  He’d made no secret about the way he grew up, but he’d never told anyone, not even Gianna, how it affected him. “I just wanted someone to notice me,” he said, staring out the window. “To see some value in me. To help me find something worthwhile in myself.”

  “That’s when you turned to music?”

  “Yeah, we had one of those stupid talent shows around seventh or eighth grade, and my buddies and I got up and did a cover of one of those eighties hair bands. Platinum Blonde or something, I think.” He smiled at the memory. “And I realized I had a pretty good voice.” Better than that, but he didn’t want to brag. She’d heard him sing. “But more importantly, I loved being up on that stage. Finally, people were noticing me. The more I played, the better I got and the more love I felt from the crowd. That became my drug of choice. I never needed anything else.”

  “Why haven’t you ever told me any of this before?” she asked, resting her chin in her palm. “It makes so much sense to me now, helps me understand you in a way I never did before.”

  “It’s not easy to be vulnerable, Gi. To admit how needy you are.” He leaned in, curling his hand around hers. “But I realized something when you left me. If you don’t tell someone how much you need them, they’ll never know.”

  “That’s true,” she said, looking away when he licked his lips.

  “So, I’m telling you now. I need you.” He watched her close her eyes and he was sure she was battling her feelings for him. “And another thing, Gi. I really do love you. I know I should have said it before. Hell, I should have told you every day we were together, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I wasn’t sure I could ever love you the way you needed me to.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You loved me with your whole heart, right from the start. And I assumed that was because you’d been taught how to love. I never had. I was afraid I’d screw everything up. I was selfish and arrogant and…” He shook his head. “You deserved so much better. I wasn’t even sure I had the right to love you. You were too good, too pure, too damn perfect for the likes of me.”

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I’d never have fallen in love with you if I hadn’t seen the things you couldn’t see in yourself. I never would have had your baby. I sure as hell wouldn’t have had a second baby if I hadn’t seen with my own two eyes how much you loved our daughter. You’re a good man, Gunnar. But it’s not enough for me to tell you that. You have to believe it yourself.”

  Everything she said made sense, but it wasn’t easy to hear. “Maybe I don’t need the adoration from fans anymore,” he said, mulling it over in his mind. “Maybe it’s enough to have family and friends who love me.” He knew the first step was learning to love himself, but he would need the help of the people who cared about him to accomplish that monumental task.

  Her eyes softened as she stroked the stubble on his jaw. “No one has ever gotten to me the way you do.”

  He smirked, feeling ten feet tall. “Am I supposed to apologize for that?”

  “No. It’s just maddening sometimes.” She leaned back. “An innocent small-town girl like me, the daughter of a teacher, for God’s sake, had no business falling for an up-and-coming musician. My mind knew that, but it took my heart a lot longer to get the memo.”

  “You were perfect for me,” he said, picking up her hand and running his fingertip over her knuckles. “I would have self-destructed within a few years if I’d hooked up with someone who liked to party as much as I did. You kept me grounded.”

  “Funny, it never felt that way. I always felt like I was running to catch up with you.” She watched his movements, seeming mesmerized by his touch. “It was so exhausting, trying to be a part of your world, never being able to leave the house without some Pap trailing me.”

  He’d become so desensitized they were invisible to him now. “I can imagine.”

  “Can you?” She looked into his eyes. “Can you imagine what it was like for me, Gunnar? I never wanted that life. I just wanted you and I knew I had to take one to have the other. It was a trade-off, I guess.”

  Most women would have considered the perks that came with his career reason enough to be with him, but Gi wasn’t like most women. That was why he loved her. “I’ve loved my career,” he said, thinking about all the sold-out shows, the thrill of seeing thousands of fans sing his lyrics back to him. “It helped heal me in a lot of ways, I think.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “But there’s another part of me that hasn’t healed, Gi.” He leaned in, placing her hand over his heart. “A part that only you can heal. You may not have thought it possible, but you broke my heart when you left me.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true,” he assured her. “I may have acted immune to pain, but that was a façade, a lie. I was just trying to protect myself. I always assumed you’d wake up one day and realize you were too good for me. I told myself that if I didn’t love you, if we weren’t married, it would be okay. I’d survive it somehow. But I was an idiot to think that. It hurt just as much as if we’d had that piece of paper or if I’d said the words.”

  “I don’t know what to make of all this,” she said, looking at him intently. “I waited so long to hear you say these things, but you have to understand, I’m not the same person who left you. I’ve had to build up this wall around my heart, to protect it, and I’m not sure I can let you penetrate it, Gunnar.”

  “But you want to let me in?” She was throwing him a lifeline and he was grabbing on with both hands.

  “I don’t know.” She pushed back from the table. “I don’t know what I want right now.”

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Thursday night of the following week rolled around, they’d settled into a nice routine. Gunnar would help her prepare dinner. They’d enjoy a glass of wine on the patio, maybe help their daughters with homework, and watch some TV.

  They’d sit next to each other on the couch. His thigh or arm would brush hers from time to time, but he hadn’t tried to kiss her again and she was getting antsy wondering when or if it would happen.

  She knew he was trying to respect her boundaries, but the sexual tension was so thick she could feel it every time he walked into the room.

  “Hey, Mom,” Ramsey said, running downstairs with her cell phone clutched in her hand. “Can me and Keegan spend the night at Jordan’s house tomorrow night?”

  Jordan had a sister Keegan’s age and she’d become one of Ramsey’s closest friends. “Um, are their parents going to be there?”

  Ramsey rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  “No boys or alcohol, right?” Gianna asked, reaching for a handful of pretzels from the bowl Gunnar held.

  “No, Mom,” she said, sou
nding annoyed. “So, can we go?”

  “Fine, but you know I will be texting Jordan’s mom to make sure everything you just told me is true, right?”

  “Whatever.”

  Gianna watched her run back up the stairs as she muttered, “Teenagers.”

  Gunnar laughed. “I love watching the way you handle them. Just so you know, I’m taking notes.”

  Gunnar had always been the fun one while she’d been the disciplinarian. “You can’t become the bad cop,” she said, smiling at him. “There can only be one of those. We have to complement each other, after all.”

  “I think we do complement each other.”

  Damn. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her again and she was thirty seconds away from overturning that bowl and hopping on his lap. “You do, huh?”

  “In. Every. Way.”

  He tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on her heaving chest. She was braless, with an oversized sweatshirt that slipped off one shoulder.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered. “It could be dangerous.”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  She smiled. “I want you to kiss me. But we can’t. The girls are upstairs. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about us.”

  He sighed. “We’ll have the whole house to ourselves tomorrow night though.”

  “Indeed we will.” It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but it might as well have been. Needing to change the subject, she said, “That song you were working on when I came in sounded amazing. Have you been getting a lot of work done since you’ve been here?”

  “It’s crazy,” he said, reaching for the remote to lower the volume. “I can’t believe how easy the writing’s been. It’s like I flipped a switch and I’m back in the zone.”

  “That must feel good.”

  “It does.” He paused, looking hesitant. “Still, I’m not sure I want to tour to promote a new album anytime soon.”

  “How would your label feel about that?” she asked, knowing the answer even before she posed the question.