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How could he possibly say no when Jorge was doing such a great job of erasing any fear or sadness Noah had been feeling over Matt and Ari’s two-week trip?
“Sounds good to me.” He was committed to two weeks with Rosie. Two weeks where they would be together for the boys. Two weeks of no looking, no touching, no X-rated thoughts about Rosie.
He could do this. He had to do it. For Noah.
Even if he went crazy in the process.
* * *
Matt curled his fingers around Ari’s as the limo pulled onto the freeway, and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. Reading her mind, he said, “Noah will be fine. He loves spending time with his uncle. And I’m sure there will be plenty of playdates with Jorge and Rosie too.”
They were married. Ari almost couldn’t believe it. Just as she’d told Gideon, it was a dream come true.
“I know Gideon will take good care of him,” she replied. “It’s just…” She loved Noah so much. And she wanted to include him in everything.
“I’ll miss him too. But I’m also really looking forward to fourteen days and nights of wedded bliss with my wife.” Matt pulled her in for a long, luscious kiss, the kind of kiss she’d never get enough of. When he finally released her, he said, “Plus, I think it’s going to be really good for your brother to spend a couple of weeks hanging with Noah.”
She agreed wholeheartedly. “Just before he walked me down the aisle, he told me how proud he was of me. But when I tried to tell him the same thing, he cut me off.” She sighed. “It’s like he can’t hear anything about what a great guy he is.”
“He’s still working through the past,” Matt noted. “Going to war, leaving you behind, not being able to find you. All those things would scar any man, especially one as devoted to family as Gideon is.”
“I just wish I could find a way to make him see that he didn’t fail me, especially when he was only trying to do his best.” Frustration edged her voice. “I mean, what eighteen-year-old kid joins the army to send money home to his family? That alone should prove to him that he has nothing to be sorry for, regardless of what happened after he left. That wasn’t his fault.”
“You’re right. Gideon is a great brother. A great son. A great man, period.” Matt held her tight. “Which is why I completely trust him with Noah.”
Ari had fallen in love with Matt and Noah. But she had fallen for his family just as hard. And she hoped Gideon would one day realize that he was worthy of being part of a family again. Part of her family.
“I love you,” she said to her handsome, sexy, wonderful, insightful husband.
“Forever and ever,” Matt said as his lips touched hers.
Chapter Ten
Gideon brought Noah over to Rosie’s place bright and early on Sunday morning, the day after the wedding. She and Jorge lived in the cottage at the back of a property owned by a nice woman in her early seventies. Once a carriage house in the late 1800s, the cottage was quaint, with a small backyard. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a family room, and a kitchen with a breakfast nook were all she and Jorge needed.
She’d thought long and hard about what to do and where to go on their first outing. The safer choice would be to go somewhere loud and busy enough that Gideon wouldn’t have to interact with her too much. There were plenty of places that fit the bill—the trampoline gym would be wall-to-wall kids and parents, and the local public swimming pool was always overrun in the final days of summer. But then Jorge had suggested they take Noah and Gideon to one of their favorite places, somewhere most parents wouldn’t even consider for a playdate. Chi was right—playing it safe wasn’t the right move. If she wanted to make headway over Gideon’s walls, taking big risks would be the only way to get there. Besides, spending some time working with paints and brushes always made Rosie feel better. If they were lucky, maybe it would do the same for Gideon.
Jorge and Rosie had agreed to keep the location a secret for as long as possible. Partly for the fun of surprising Noah and Gideon—but also, at least as far as Rosie was concerned, making sure that Gideon couldn’t find a way to back out.
Which was why she’d sent Jorge, Noah, and Gideon straight out to the backyard while she gathered up the many supplies the four of them would need for the day. She even packed the car. Actually, it was Gideon’s SUV, because her tiny hatchback was too small for everything they’d need.
Standing at the kitchen window, drying her hands on a dish towel, she watched Gideon with the kids. His jeans were snug in all the right places, sending her heart rate bouncing into the stratosphere. Beneath his T-shirt, his muscles flexed and rippled as he played ball with the boys. She had to fan herself, especially when he bent low to catch a wild throw, and his jeans stretched tight across his behind. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday, and she liked him with that hint of stubble. Liked it so much that she could practically feel the phantom brush of his whiskers against her skin. Her hand trembled as she hung up the dish towel, and her breathing was just the tiniest bit shaky.
After the boys tired of that game, he pushed them on a tire swing her elderly landlady had allowed her to hang on the big tree. Their voices carried through the closed window. “Higher, Gid, higher.”
At the moment, his eyes were ocean blue, and he was smiling that smile only the boys ever saw. Yet again, he looked like she imagined he’d been as a teenager, before he’d gone to Iraq.
Although he’d never truly been a carefree teenager, had he? Not with the weight of a drug-addicted mother and a little sister to care for on his shoulders.
No one’s life was simple, Rosie mused as she packed their lunch into an insulated bag. She’d grown up as an only child in a run-down neighborhood in a raggedy house her mother had always kept spotlessly clean—but she’d been so happy. So carefree. So utterly unaware that she was missing anything at all. How could she have known when she had her parents’ love and attention? As much as any child could ask for. When her mother and father saw how much she loved to draw on the sidewalk with her bits of chalk, they’d found the money to buy her brushes and paint. And they’d spent hours in the library with her, poring over coffee-table art books, as excited about learning from the works of the old masters as she was, despite neither of them having a passionate interest in art. They’d taken her to museums on the free days, even when their feet must have hurt from their long days out. They’d encouraged her to spend as much time as she wanted studying her favorite paintings.
After her parents died in a car accident, and with no other family in the state, eleven-year-old Rosie had nowhere to go but foster care. Her life had changed in ways she could never have imagined. She’d had no terrible foster home experiences, although she’d never fully bonded with any of the families either. Still, she always had her memories of her loving parents, the life lessons they’d taught her about being kind to others and true to herself, along with the love of art they’d nurtured in her.
Once lunch was packed, Rosie wiped down the kitchen counter. Her home was also spotless, a trait inherited from her mother. And the lunch she’d made—shredded beef empanadas—was delicious, a recipe she’d learned at her father’s side. He’d always loved to cook.
Ready to go, she paused at the French doors leading to the backyard. Just one more minute to watch Gideon’s smile, one more glimpse of the real Gideon Jones.
No matter how gruff or closed off he could be with everyone else—including her—the way he smiled with the boys revealed the man he was on the inside. A man she very much wanted to know. If only he would let her…
