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“Do not call her and tell her I’m coming,” he said, including Cassandra and Presley in his request.
“I won’t,” Hannah promised. Presley and Cassandra each swore their allegiance to silence.
“What’s going on?” Will asked.
“Hopefully he’s going to tell Hallie he’s been a major ass,” Cash offered.
“Apologizing on your knees is incredibly emasculating, but worth it in the end.” Luke grinned, as if he liked the vision of his youngest brother begging for forgiveness.
“I’ll do what I have to do,” Gavin said, and he meant it.
Hallie was grateful the health food store was open on Christmas Eve. She wanted to stock up on vitamins and healthy juices. For whatever reason she’d had an almost debilitating craving for sweet potato chips, so she’d picked up a bag of those, as well.
She pulled into her driveway, smiling at the small Christmas tree glowing in the window of her apartment. Last night she’d thought it looked lonely there, but she woke in higher spirits today. Reusable tote slung over her shoulder, she stepped from her car and into the crisp winter air.
She refused to feel sorry for spending Christmas Eve alone. Gram had invited her to a party and Hallie had been the one to say no. She wasn’t in a partying mood.
Hannah had gone to the Sutherland house for dinner and had tried to convince Hallie to come with her. Hallie politely refused. She was too fragile, the breakup with Gavin far too fresh. The last thing the Sutherlands needed was a Banks sister crying on their holiday ham.
Besides, she and Hannah would go to Gram’s for Christmas breakfast tomorrow morning to exchange gifts and sing carols. Will would be there, of course. Wherever Hannah was from now until the end of time, Will would be there, too. Just seeing him would remind Hallie of Gavin, or maybe Will would bring him up. That was something she’d have to get used to, as well.
And who knew, it might work out for the best if Hallie and Gavin grew accustomed to not being together before she broke the news about the pregnancy. She didn’t want him to agree to be with her under duress. She wanted him to love her. As much as she loved him.
He’d sent several texts over the last few days, each some version of “can we talk?”
She’d admit, they did need to talk. And they would. As soon as she decided the best way to tell him he was going to be a father. The delay wasn’t only for him. The longer she waited, the more time she’d have to bandage her broken heart when he ultimately told her he couldn’t stay with her and raise their child. She almost hated how much she wished he’d say the opposite.
As much as she’d favored her independence in the past, though, now it made her incredibly sad. She was in love with Gavin, and she didn’t want to fall out of love with him. She was carrying his child, for goodness’ sake. Of course she loved him.
The pregnancy had been a shock, but the prospect of having a child—of having his child—excited her. Their baby would be beautiful if it shared even a single strand of his DNA. And maybe she and Gavin would be great at raising a child together but separately. She and Hannah had been raised in an unorthodox manner, and they’d had a wonderful childhood.
Last night, their mother had called Hallie to say Merry Christmas. Their conversation was warm and loving. She told her mother she had news to share but preferred to share it in person. Her mother hadn’t pressed for Hallie to tell her right away. She’d said she respected Hallie’s choices and they could do a video call tomorrow night if she was available. Hallie had felt better instantly.
Her heart would mend on its own time. She was strong and could do anything she set her mind to. Ironically, it was Gavin who had helped her understand that.
Tonight, she’d spend Christmas Eve alone watching a holiday movie with her arm elbow-deep in a bag of sweet potato chips. There were worse ways to spend an evening. Just when she’d convinced herself, a truck pulled in behind her and blew her plans to smithereens.
She stood in the doorway of her apartment as Gavin stepped out of his gray F-150. He looked good, dressed in dark blue jeans and a button-down shirt open at the collar, hat perched on his head. The leather jacket was doing wonders for him in the “bad boy” department. It wasn’t hard to see why she’d asked him to help her break rules. It was as if God had crafted him to be a rebel.
But that had been an excuse, she admitted to herself as he approached her in a few long-legged steps. She had wanted an excuse to be close to him. It’d been all she’d wanted for as long as she could remember. And now that he was walking toward her, her porch light illuminating his handsome face, all she wanted was to be close to him again.
The question was, should she let herself?
