Page 89 of Tug (Irreparable 3)


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She stares back at me, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, and I remove my hand from her cheek. I expect her to nod, or thank me, but something else is happening. I swallow as her face inches closer to mine and her eyes close. My heart rate kicks up a notch. I don’t know why, but I can’t pull away. I lean in farther, our lips so close they almost touch, her breath mixing with my breath. My brain is screaming at me not to do it, but I have no control over what is about to happen. I lick my lips. When my eyes close and I’m about to make a huge mistake, I hear Drew, “Come on, Mommy, I’m going to be late for school.”

His voice is like ice cold water. My eyes pop open to Tori’s horrified expression. What in the hell just happened? Whatever it was, it can never happen again. I quickly scoot my chair back and stand up. My breathing is erratic as I rake my hands through my hair furiously.

“Hey, Uncle Tug,” Drew says oblivious to the fact I nearly kissed his mother.

“Hey, buddy,” is all I can reply with. My brain is a cluttered mess of scattered thoughts—What in the hell’s? and, Oh fuck’s!

“Andrew,” Tori says, standing from the table and cupping him on the shoulders. “I’m ready, go grab your backpack.”

Drew leaves and she stares at me with her hand over her mouth. She drops it and says, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know …”

“Stop!” I shout, causing her to flinch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you, but this is no big deal. You’re emotional and it was nothing.”

“Right …” she smiles at Drew when he returns with his backpack. “Ready, kiddo?”

“Yep.”

He gives me a hug, and as they walk out the door, Tori glances over her shoulder at me, her expression conflicted. She mouths, Sorry.

She closes the door, and I collapse into a chair at the kitchen table. That was awkward, but thankfully not as awkward as it would have been if we’d actually kissed. Would I have kissed her? I’m not sure. Am I that stupid? Probably. Fuck! I love Maria, I remind myself and head out of the house to work.

We arrive at Tug’s loft after three and he takes Javier’s hand. “Before the movers arrive, I have something I want to show you.”

“What is it?” Javier asks, his voice full of anticipation. I’m curious, too. Tug didn’t mention anything to me.

“Come on, let’s find out,” Tug says, leading Javier down the hall. He glances my way. “You too, Mama.”

I smile and follow the two of them. We stop in front of the door that used to be the guest room.

“Go on, open the door,” Tug tells Javier, the smile on his face as big as my son’s.

Javier turns the knob. When the door opens, he lets out a loud squeal and runs into the room. I step inside. My mouth opens as my eyes wander around the room. I can hardly believe what Tug has done.

The room is floor to ceiling trains. The entire back wall has been made to look like a brick train station with windows, and a tunnel carved out. The large train extending from the tunnel is a bed. Behind the mock station is a raised platform with another bed, which Tug informs us is for when Drew sleeps over. Below the bed is a desk and large toy box filled with toys. In the corner of the room is an intricate train table with track, all pieced together, containing magnetic train cars, miniature people, cranes and other props. The bedding is trains, the lamp shade, even the plate that covers the light switch is trains. It’s incredible, and judging by the look on my little boys face, he may never leave his room.

Javier jumps into Tug’s arms. “This is so awesome! Thank you, Daddy. I love it.”

My eyes were misty, but now they’re full on waterfalls. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He sets Javier down, who quickly runs over to play on the train table.

We leave Javier to explore in his new room while we wait for the movers. I curl up on the couch next to Tug.

“Do you like the room?” he asks me.

“It’s perfect,” I say, removing my shoes and tossing them across the room to get comfortable. “And you’re amazing and I love you.”

He grabs my chin and kisses me. “I love you back.”

My thoughts are all so happy, and I still can’t believe this is my life, that this is my man. I feel like I could burst with happiness and then Tug says, “I invited your father to dinner tomorrow.”

I slap his hand away from my face, my skin on fire. “What? How could you do that?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t,” he says with that fucking smirk, that usually makes me melt, but right now I can’t stand the sight of it.

“I can’t even … I’m so angry … I …”

“Just hear me out, okay?” My lips mash together, and I cross my arms. I glare at him without saying a word. “He contacted me about Gibson handling his portfolio.”

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