Page 74 of Full Throttle

I regarded him fondly, reaching over and taking his hand. “Dom, I know you’re a cut-to-the-chase kind of guy. You like action.” I winked, trying to make him smile. “I should call you my bulldozer.”

He huffed a little annoyed noise.

“But you need to take your time with this problem. Josh and his custody isn’t going to happen overnight.”

“I want to see more of him.”

“I know. So talk to Halton and make a plan. But you can’t expect it to happen immediately.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes.

“Maybe we moved too fast,” I said quietly.

“What?”

“If I weren’t around, and we hadn’t bought a house, you could move. Find a different job. See Josh easily.”

He gaped at me. “Don’t finish that.”

“It’s true.” I drew in a deep breath. “We could simply put the house back up on the market. I could go live with Hannah for a bit. Or the apartment over the garage. You could go be with Josh.”

“Not happening.”

“Think about it, Dom. Without me in the picture, the solution would be so much easier.”

He gripped my hand. “Without you, there is no solution. I love you, Cherry.”

“He’s your son.”

He stared at me. “Would you leave me if the roles were reversed? If leaving me meant you could see Hannah more?”

“I would certainly give it consideration. And you should too.”

“No. I refuse to believe there isn’t a solution to this where I get both of you.”

I stood, bending and kissing his forehead. He gripped my hips, stopping me from leaving. I cupped his face, fighting back my tears. “You have to consider it, Dom.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“Your son is forever.”

“So are we. If you want to sell the house, then you can come with me.”

“Then I have to leave Hannah.”

He stared at me. “So, we have to lose everything for our kids?”

“Maybe not. But if you chose Josh, I would understand.” I smiled, even though I wanted to cry. “I’m going for a bath. I have a headache.”

I walked away, glancing over my shoulder. Dom sat with his head down as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

I knew how he felt.

DOM

Halton fit me in, and I sat across from him, telling him everything that had happened. What Cherry had said. What I was feeling. He listened, not interrupting. When I was done, he rested his chin on his steepled fingers, regarding me.

“Okay, first thing—Cherry is right. You’re rushing here. You’ve had one sleepover. This will take time. Second, you’re right. You can’t have him half the time and divide his life between two cities. It’s not fair to him, and no judge would grant that.”