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“And yes, I was married. Five years, actually.”

“I was married for three years.”

“Did your husband run off with a woman he met on an anniversary trip?”

I grimaced. “No. Thankfully he did not.”

“Lucky,” Gavin replied with a sardonic smile.

“It must be hard sharing your time with Owen with her.”

“I wish I had that problem.” At what must’ve been my questioning look, he replied, “She left us both.”

My heart clenched. Poor Owen. To have his whole world be so upended was heartbreaking. And then I remembered something from earlier. With a shriek, I clapped my hand to my chest.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked.

“I’m an asshole.”

“That’s doubtful.”

Shaking my head, I countered, “Earlier I asked Gavin where his mom was, and it caused him to start crying.” As tears stung my eyes, I said, “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I did.”

Gavin once again took my hand, but this time, he used it to pull me over to sit down in the chair beside him. “Mina, it was an honest mistake. You had no way of knowing Owen’s mom was a selfish twat.”

My sniffle turned into a snort at his comment. “I guess you’re right.”

“About this, I know I am.”

Rory reappeared then with a tray full of food. “At the rate you two are going, that poor baby is going to starve to death,” she replied, as she eased the tray onto the table.

“But you didn’t know what they wanted,” I protested.

“I brought a sampler for Gavin. A little pork, a little chicken, and…some sausage.” Turning to Owen’s eager face, she said, “I had a feeling this one would want a version of chicken and mac and cheese.”

“Good guess,” Gavin remarked.

Rory pointed to the Bavarian cream. “And that is my own personal contribution for dessert.”

“Thank you. It all looks so delicious.”

After Rory and I emptied the tray, she picked it back up. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Staring at me rather than the food, Gavin replied, “I know I will.”

With a roll of her eyes, Rory replied, “Hopeless.” Then she strode back over to the door.

“I guess I’ll leave you two to chow down.”

When I started to rise out of my chair, Gavin stopped me. “Stay.”

“Is that a question or command?” I questioned breathlessly.

“It’s a plea.”

My vagina wasn’t just fluttering–it was experiencing a magnitude ten earthquake. “I do like a man who begs.”

And just one tug on my skirt by Owen quelled any hopes of aftershocks. “Can I sit wis you?”