Page 43 of Lost in Love

Kate and I are in the kitchen putting candles on the cupcakes when Jason walks in. His burly arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me into his tight chest. “Hey, slugger.” His hip bumps mine, and then he looks up at Kate and winks. “Maybeweshould make a sex tape.”

Kate snorts, rolling her eyes. “Maybe we’d still be married then.”

“Doubtful,” he adds, popping a grape from the fruit tray in his mouth. Then he chokes on it. “We can title itDivorce Gone Wild.”

“You’re dumb.” Kate laughs, refusing to help him with his choking problem. I reach over and pat his back awkwardly.

I want to ask Kate why they divorced, but I’m not sure if that’s something you should ask. Is it appropriate? Is that like asking someone how much money they make or how much their house cost?

Noah comes around the corner with a beer in hand and Hazel curled around his leg and he’s wearing aBravewig, probably thanks to Hazel. I smile at him when I notice Oliver watching us from the backyard. “Now, that’s a good look for you.” I adjust Noah’s tiara and right his crooked wig. “The red brings out the darkness in your eyes.”

I wonder if he understands what I mean behind that. I think he does by the way his narrow and his eyebrows pinch in the middle. He swallows and fights to keep his tone even when he whispers, “Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.”

No one hears him but me, and the meaning hits harder than I want it to. It’s like a punch to my gut.

Before I can ask him what he means by that, Noah leans in for a sweet kiss, his orange locks falling in his face. His reassurance comes with, “You’re beautiful.”

Once our lips meet—the action is quick, staged, even—that’s when I realize he’s been eating all the gummy worm dirt cups I made. Sure enough, there are no gummy worms in any of them. “Noah, damn it. Those were for the kids.”

“Sorry.” He shifts slightly, turning his body from mine, easily distracted by the kids running between our legs. As he reaches for a beer on the counter, it tips slightly, but he catches it, our hands bumping together. “I was hungry.”

“You could have some fruit.” Knowing Noah hates grapes, Kate pushes the plate in his face. “I know you like grapes so much.”

He makes a gagging sound and then pushes her, laughing.

“I’ve never met anyone who hates grapes,” she says, smiling.

Noah’s smile fades. “I have.”

Before anything more is said between us and Noah can dump the plate over, he’s tugged away by Jason.

Kate notices and leans in when Noah’s out of earshot. “Was that the wrong thing to say? Did I piss him off?”

I shrug, not wanting to explain that Mara hated grapes too. She’d gag every time she ate one. “He’s just in a mood tonight.”

Kate rolls her eyes. “Jason’s been in a mood for the last ten years. I once kicked him in the balls when he was sleeping. The next day when he said his boys were hurtin’, I said nothin’. And I didn’t even feel guilty about it.”

I fight back laughter. “Why’d you kick him in the balls?”

“I don’t remember.” Kate flips her hands around. “I have no idea where I was going with that either, but I thought it’d make you feel better.”

“It did, thanks.”

“Fifty bucks says Bonner gets that stuck in his leg,” Jason says, motioning toward Bonner who is sword fighting with Oliver as they walk away.

“Nah, I’m not betting against you on that one.” Noah laughs and then tips his beer his direction. “But fifty bucks says he stabs someone else with it before the night’s out.”

“You’re on.” From what I can tell, Jason makes bets on everything. Yesterday, he bet me three dollars that Fin would spit on him before the day was out. Doesn’t matter what it is, he just likes to bet, and he wants to win. He won that bet by the way—she spit on him for taking her binkie. He’s very competitive and so are his kids. Jagger and August, they’re twins and adorable, but so freaking competitive with one another. Oliver isn’t like that with Sevi, but then again, Sevi doesn’t care about anything but being a dog.

“Noah looks hideous in that wig. Red really isn’t his color.” Gretchen sits down on the barstool next to us with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, prepared for the evening. “Why is he wearing that?”

“Hazel probably had something to do with it.”

“He’s a good dad.” Kate takes the plate of veggies and sets them on the table. Tiny hands grab at the carrots and leave anything green.

I turn to Kate. “Jason is too.”

She winks at me. “He is. Shitty husband, amazing dad. But you know, I’d rather have it that way.”

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