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“That sounds dangerous,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes. “Have mercy, woman.” He cleared his throat and repeated, “I’ve been thinking. Is it a good idea for me to continue running The Den if I’m going to be a father?” He pursed his lips and put his cutlery down. “It’s probably not the best environment or example to set for our kids.”
“What?” she spluttered, reaching for the tea to wash down a piece of sausage she’d swallowed too quickly. The tea soothed her throat and she drew in a few breaths before continuing. “How would it be a bad example? You run a business. Two businesses, actually. I don’t see how that could possibly be a bad thing.”
He fidgeted with his hands and she could see he was really worried about this. “Because of the alcohol. I don’t want them to be raised thinking drunkenness is normal.”
Gabby bit her lip. She’d had no idea he was concerned about this. “Are drunks around during the day, when a child would be awake?”
“Not usually, no.”
“Then we’ll just keep the babies away from The Den at night.” It seemed a simple solution to her. But then a thought crossed her mind. “Unless there’s something else you’re worried about exposing them to?” Such as his flirting with other women. She knew he flirted his butt off at work. It was practically a job requirement for bartenders and it fit his personality well too.
“No.” He sounded dubious. “But are you sure?”
Gabby looked longingly at her pasta, then followed his lead and put her cutlery down to focus on the conversation. “If you want to sell The Den or hire someone to take over your shifts, then go for it. But if it’s purely because you’re worried about exposing our children to a few tipsy patrons, then we’ll just make sure to keep them away during the times they’re at risk of encountering that. Honestly, I can’t imagine they’ll spend much time there anyway, especially not for the first few months.” It was possible he’d have to have them there with him at times in the future, but it seemed like that would be the exception rather than the rule.
“Okay.” His expression eased briefly, but then he tensed again. “There’s something else I’d like to talk about too.”
“What?”
He hesitated. “It’s a long story. Just bear with me.”
Gabby nodded. Whatever it was, she could already tell this was important to him.
* * *
Anxiety roiledin Logan’s gut, but he owed Gabby the truth. If he wanted to explore the possibility of a future between them, he’d just have to get over it and blurt out all the embarrassing and ugly thoughts he’d never intended to share.
He pushed his bowl away. He’d eaten enough, and the pasta sat heavy in his stomach. Gabby sipped her tea and picked up her cutlery again, apparently deciding that the need to eat outweighed the need to focus solely on him. That was good. Speaking might be easier without her full attention. Maybe she’d thought of that too.
“How much do you know about my father?” he asked.
She chewed, her expression thoughtful. “I know that you don’t mention him, and I assume he doesn’t live around here. I guess I figured that you aren’t close because your mum got custody when they separated.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Not quite. Mum and Dad divorced when I was eight. They’d been fighting for as long as I could remember, and honestly, looking back, I think they would have broken up much sooner if Mum hadn’t gotten pregnant.”
Gabby winced. “I know people mean well, but I don’t think it’s ever a good idea to stay together for the sake of a child. Kids are perceptive. They pick up on the unhappiness and hostility, even if they don’t understand it.”
“Yeah, well.” He didn’t really know what to say to that, especially when he was about to propose a relationship with her that he’d never have suggested had she not gotten pregnant. But the circumstances were different, so hopefully she’d at least be open to discussing their future.
“Anyway, they were supposed to have a joint custody arrangement where we stayed with Dad every second weekend and on school holidays, but it didn’t take long before he was canceling his weekends because of other commitments, and about six months after they separated, he moved overseas.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d stopped eating again, sympathy etched in every line of her face. “That must have hurt.”
“It wasn’t my favorite thing.” It had taken him a while to accept that his dad wasn’t coming back. At first, he’d just thought it was a long vacation. But when Jonathan started mentioning a new job during their phone calls, it had finally sunk in. “He called every now and then. Most weeks at first, but then only every month, and sometimes he forgot even that. He said life got too busy. When he missed our scheduled call for my thirteenth birthday, and I didn’t even get a card, I stopped being upset and got angry. I didn’t accept any of his calls after that, and I’ve only spoken to him once since then, when Mum forced me to because she thought it would help.”
“Did it?” Gabby asked gently.
He snorted. “No. He apologized and made excuses. Same old shit. I lost my temper with him, and she didn’t push me to contact him again.”
His heart hurt at the memory. He no longer cared about having his father in his life, but he’d never stop being upset for the boy who’d waited hours for a call that never came.
“You deserved better,” she said.
He raised his head, realizing he’d been staring down at the table. “Every kid deserves better than that.” Perhaps he’d never been abused or gone hungry, but he’d still been in pain, and he never wanted to be the reason anyone else felt that way. “When I got older, people started telling me how much I looked like him. Some of my school teachers had taught him, and they commented on how similar we were in class. They said I was a chip off the old block. I hated it because I wanted nothing to do with him, but every time I looked in the mirror, I thought of him.” It must have been hard for his mum too, although he hadn’t realized that at the time. “When I had my first girlfriend and she broke up with me because she thought I’d been flirting with her friends, people said I was going to be a heartbreaker like Dad.”
“Oh, Logan.” She scooted the chair around the table and took his hand. He considered shaking her off, unsure how to deal with her sympathy, but in the end, he just gave it a gentle squeeze.
