Say You're Mine Page 13

  “That boyfriend of yours needs some history lessons,” my dad says, startling me. I was so caught up in my daydream that I didn’t even hear him come into the kitchen.

  I turn to face him and he’s wearing a huge smile on his face—a smile I haven’t seen much since my mom died. It’s nice.

  “What?”

  “He’s a good man, Annabelle. Or at least he seems to be, but I think I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

  Now it’s my turn to smile. “He is, Daddy. He makes me so happy, in so many ways.”

  When Jaxson turned his spare room into my art studio, I called my dad the next day. I had told him I was seeing someone, but I don’t think he knew how serious it was until then. I probably didn’t either. Then when I told him about my new job at the gallery, I could hear him smile through the phone.

  “Any man who made my daughter find her love of art again and put a smile like that on her face is okay in my book.”

  He brings me into his side and places a kiss on my forehead while I hug him. I should come back here more often and visit him. We spent so much time together after Mom passed; I’d forgotten how much I got used to him being around every day.

  “Do you think Mom would have liked him?”

  “Oh, Pumpkin,” he squeezes me a little tighter, “your mom would have loved him. The second you told me about him making that space for you to paint again, I knew that was her watching out for you from above. I truly believe she sent him to you.”

  His words make me tear up. We’ve never been a very religious family. We attended church a few Sundays throughout the year, so that way we weren’t just “holiday-goers” as Mom used to say. But after she passed, my dad and I clung to the fact that she was still with us, in whatever way we needed her to be. In our hearts. In my paintings. In his memories.

  Some may call it silly, or say that there’s no afterlife. But for us, it’s how we coped and grieved. And no one should judge anyone else for how they deal with the loss of a loved one.

  I lean up and kiss his cheek. “Okay, no more tears. I have a dinner to finish up and you, sir, need to get out of my kitchen.”

  He laughs. “You sound exactly like your mom.”

  He smiles and walks away as a I take the pork chops out of the oven, because since I was coming over here and making dinner, Dad asked for—actually demanded—I make Mom’s pork chops.

  We sit around the dinner table, chatting like we’ve done this for years. I don’t know what Jaxson was so worried about. I’m pretty sure my dad is about to invite him over in the future, and bringing me might be optional.

  “Mmm,” my dad says, taking a bite. “Your Mom might haunt my dreams tonight for saying this, but these might be better than hers.”

  “Annabelle, these are delicious. They’re even better than the first time you made them.”

  “She’s made them for you before?” my dad asks.

  Jaxson takes a drink before answering. “Actually, the first night she cooked dinner for me was this meal. She said it was your favorite and that her mom always used to make it for you.”

  My dad nods. “Yup. Only reason I married her was because I realized she’d cook these for me for the rest of my life.”

  Jaxson chuckles. “I hear you, sir. That’s honestly the only reason I’m still with your daughter. She hooked me with the pork chops.”

  I chuckle and throw my napkin across the table at him. Asshole. He’s lucky he’s hot.

  “None of this ‘sir’ stuff. Call me Ted.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean Ted.”

  My dad takes another bite of his dinner. “Actually, I knew way before the pork chops that I was going to marry Elizabeth.”

  This takes me by surprise. My dad and I became very close after Mom passed away, but in all my years, I don’t think I’ve ever heard this story.

  “The first time I saw her was at a breakfast joint not far from her college campus,” my dad begins. “She was in school, working the counter, and I was just a schmuck who drew the short straw of grabbing the breakfast order for the guys at the factory one day. I was never one of those fancy college guys always coming in and sitting at her counter. I honestly never really had the desire to go to college. I’d gotten a good job at the factory right out of high school and that was all I needed.”

  He pauses, seemingly reflecting on that time in his life.

  “She was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on, and I knew right there I was going to marry her. She had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen in my life. I see those eyes every time I look at my Annabelle,” he pauses, looking at me lovingly. “But I knew she was a smart, pretty college girl and probably had guys beating down her door. What would she want with a blue-collar guy like me?”

  I take a sip of my water, fighting back the tears.

  “What did you do?” Jaxson asks.

  “Well, I knew she worked on Tuesdays. So every week I convinced the guys on shift to order breakfast, and I always volunteered to pick it up. It took me about five breakfast runs to get up the courage to ask her out.”

  My eyes lock with Jaxson’s. We both feel it: how this story has so many similarities with our own.

  “What did she say?” I ask my dad.

  “She beat me to it.”

  I gasp. No way this is about to happen the way I think it is.

  “When I was walking over that day, I had my whole speech planned out. And when I got there, I don’t know, I just chickened out. Lost all my nerve. But luckily, she didn’t, because when I opened up the bag when I got back to the factory, I saw that she had written her phone number on one of the napkins.”

  I can’t fight the tears anymore. And if I’m not mistaken, Jaxson is looking a little teary-eyed himself.

  “I take it you called her?” Jaxson asks.

  “You bet your ass I did, son. When the woman of your dreams gives you her phone number, you don’t throw it away.”

  I laugh and look at Jaxson as he shakes his head. God, the whole thing feels like it happened so long ago.

  “No, sir, you don’t,” Jaxson says before looking straight at me. “You keep it and treasure it as long as she’ll let you.”

  34

  Jaxson

  God, how long has it been since I’ve been in the ring?

  I used to make sure I sparred with someone once or twice a week. I needed it to let out my thoughts and energy so I didn’t do something stupid.

  But since Annabelle came along, I haven’t felt like I needed it—at least, I haven’t mentally needed it. But now that I think about it, I don’t remember the last time I went a few rounds.

  Considering how I’m gasping for air sparring with Kalum, maybe I need to make a better habit of getting in here a little more often.

  “Yes!” Kalum shouts as I place my hands on my knees, trying to suck in air. “For the first time in my life, I’ve outlasted Jaxson Kelly in a ring. We need a banner. No! We need a party. A big party to celebrate this major milestone in my life.”

  “Shut the fuck up, you jackass,” I say as I step out of the ring.

  “I need to thank Annabelle. I knew she was good for you, but her keeping you distracted has benefited me greatly. I need to get her flowers. What does she like? And maybe if I get her flowers, she’ll be so thankful that she’ll give me Tori’s number.”

  I throw my towel at him as he laughs. He and I have come so far from those days on the South Side. But he’s still Kalum, the wannabe ladykiller who doesn’t get laid as much as he likes to let people think he does.

  “So, I saw Stan here earlier. How’s that been going?” Kalum was the most hesitant about me hiring my dad at The Pit. He’s not one to forget easily, and he remembers many times when we were growing up when cops would be sniffing around because of things Stan was into.

  “As good as it can be, I guess. He comes to work when I schedule him. His parole officer came by last week and said he’s been passing all his checks.”

  “Well,
that’s something,” Kalum says hesitantly. “But remember, man, Stan was always good at hiding shit. You’re a smart guy and he had the wool over your eyes for years. I know we were just kids then, but I just . . . I don’t want him to fuck you over again. You’ve come too far.”

  I nod in appreciation. Kalum’s been by my side every step of the way.

  “Thanks, man. And believe me, I am being cautious. But I really want to move on with my life, and how can I do that if I’m still holding on to grudges and shit from my past? I want a future with Annabelle, and I don’t want what I’ve been through tainting that. When I propose to—”

  “Did I hear the word propose?” Stan says as he interrupts the conversation. “Are you thinking about putting a ring on your girl’s finger?”

  I quickly look around, making sure she didn’t slip into the gym without me knowing.

  “Yes, though I don’t know when. But I’ve got a ring. I’m just waiting for the right time.”

  That was another reason I didn’t put up too much of a struggle when I agreed to meet her dad. I didn’t know when I’d have the chance to see him again, and I wanted to ask his permission to marry his daughter. He of course grilled me about the life I’d provide for her—I respected him even more for that—and in the end he gave me a hug and gave me his blessing.

  And her mother’s engagement ring.

  Now I just have to wait for the right moment. I don’t know when it will be, but I know for a fact I want to spend the rest of my life with Annabelle by my side.

  “Good for you, Son. I’m proud of you. And Kalum, good to see you, boy. Looks like you’ve come a long way from the old neighborhood too.”

  Kalum stands, not reaching for the outstretched hand Stan is offering.

  “Yes, I have. I realized a few years ago I didn’t want to live a life looking over my shoulder, so I made sure to get my shit straight before it hurt anyone in my family.”

  We all feel the dig, and I don’t blame Kalum. Abigail was like a sister to him too.

  Stan hangs his head as Kalum slaps my back and takes off for the locker room.

  “I know I deserve everything he just said to me, but it doesn’t hurt any less.”

  I don’t know what to say. I might have let him back into the gym, but the cloud of Abigail’s death still follows us and probably will for the rest of our lives.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry I interrupted you two. I had just come over here to ask you if I could grab your keys. I left mine at your uncle’s today and I need to get into the supply closet for a few things.”

  I agree and he follows me to the office to retrieve my keys. I open the top drawer to get them out, and he spots the ring box I’ve put in there.

  “That it?” he asks.

  I didn’t want to keep it at home because I knew she’d find it, so I figured here was the best place to keep it.

  “Yeah.” I open the box and show him. Her mom’s ring is simple and classic, just like my girl. I’d offered to pay Ted for it, but he’d scoffed and said that he and his wife talked before she passed, and it was her wish that one day Ted would give her ring to the man who was worthy of Annabelle.

  I was speechless.

  “I’m happy for you, Son. I really am. That girl of yours is a real sweetheart.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “Listen. Get out of here. There aren’t too many people left tonight. Go surprise your girl. I’ll lock up.”

  It’s my night to shut down the gym, but he’s right, there are only a few people left, and it looks like they’re wrapping up their sessions soon. And I would love to surprise Annabelle at the gallery.

  I hesitate though, because leaving my keys with Stan gives me pause. I had only given him a key to the storage rooms. He still has a long way to go to earn back my trust, and giving him the keys to The Pit is a big step. Even if it’s just for a night.

  “I know what’s going through your head.”

  “Are you going to say it, or am I?”

  “You’re thinking to yourself that I shouldn’t give my ex-con of a dad who used to run illegal fights the keys to a gym that has more fighting equipment than a sporting goods store.”

  Well, he hit the nail on the fucking head.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Things have been going well, but this is a big step and I’m not sure if I’m there yet.”

  He nods in understanding.

  “I get it, Jaxson. Hell, I don’t know what I would do if I were in your shoes. But it’s just one night. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.”

  He’s looking me dead in the eyes and doesn’t even flinch. Not one eye twitch.

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  He smiles at me like the time I won my first boxing match.

  “I won’t, Son. You have my word.”

  35

  Annabelle

  “All right, ladies. Lastly, we’re going to paint the words you chose to use on your signs. I’d recommend a bright color, like a white or a yellow, but customize it with whatever color is calling to you.”

  “Is someone calling for more wine? Because I seem to be empty,” one of the women in my class says, slurring her words a little.

  I just laugh, grab another bottle, and set it on her table. While I love teaching the kids during the day—my aspiring artists of the future—teaching these pop-up paint-and-sip nights are fun. Here is a group of women who want to get out of the house and have a night for themselves, while making something they can hang in their home. It reminds me that not all art has to be sold in a gallery; it’s just something that can give you joy and an escape for a few hours.

  It helps that I sip some wine as well.

  I walk around the room, glancing over shoulders just to make sure no one is ruining their projects.

  “Why does mine look nothing like the example you have?” Tori huffs in defeat. When I told her about these classes, and that wine was involved, she and Scarlett invited themselves to come. I didn’t mind, though, and since this was a pop-up, they blended right in.

  “Probably because you’ve just downed an entire bottle of wine all by yourself, and you couldn’t even color inside the lines in kindergarten,” Scarlett goads her.

  “Hey! I was told that I was too creative to stay in the lines!”

  “Oh dear, Sister. They lied to you. I’m sorry you’re just now realizing this. Also, Santa isn’t real.”

  Tori throws down her paintbrush.

  “Well, dammit! Here I thought I was special.”

  “Oh, you’re special all right.” We all just laugh. Now that I’m with Jaxson, I haven’t seen them as much as I used to, but the nights we do get to spend together are just like old times.

  I continue to walk around the room as the women finish up their new welcome signs when one of them calls me over to ask my advice on colors.

  “Oh my God. Who in the hell is that man walking in?” one of the women next to her says.

  “I don’t know, but whoever he’s here for, I’ll be her for as long as he wants me.”

  I look up and smile as I see Jaxson walking into the gallery with a bouquet of flowers. He hasn’t shaved for a few days, and the scruff on his face makes him look even sexier than usual. Pair that with the tight T-shirt that’s showing off his tattoos and he’s every bad boy fantasy come to life.

  “Okay, ladies, we have about 10 more minutes, so put the finishing touches on your projects.”

  I walk over to him and I hear every woman except Tori and Scarlett giggle and almost swoon over my man. I could be jealous. I could tell them to back off and that he’s mine. But all I do is smile and laugh, because I know he’s not looking at a single one of them. His eyes are locked with mine.

  “What are you doing here?” I reach up and wrap my hands around his neck, giving him a light kiss. “I thought you had to close at The Pit tonight.”

  He picks me up—just enough to lift my feet off the ground—so he can
kiss me a little harder. Nothing inappropriate, maybe just a little PG-13.

  “Actually, Stan is locking up for me tonight.”

  He sees my look of confusion as he puts me down. I knew things were going well, but that’s a big step in the trust department.

  “Really? I mean, if you’re comfortable with that, then it’s great. But I didn’t know you two had reached that place yet.”

  He rubs a hand over his short hair and all I can think about is that I want to do that too. Tonight. While his face is between my legs.

  “He’s been doing well, and there was only about an hour left before we had to lock up anyway. I only gave him the key for the door. We’re not at the level where I’m about to trust him with money yet.”

  I grab his hand and lead him to the back of the room as the class finishes up. The catcalls calmed down after they realized he was with me. It doesn’t stop the gawking though.

  I get it, ladies. I really do.

  “So, are those flowers for our girl or do you just crash girls’ nights to give a random lucky gal a bouquet of flowers?” Tori teases, which makes Jaxson laugh. I love that these two get along so well.

  “No, these are for Annabelle,” he turns and gives me the gorgeous bouquet of stargazer lilies. “Though Kalum did say he was going to buy Annabelle flowers because he bested me tonight in the ring; he thinks it’s because she’s been keeping me occupied.”

  I laugh, though it’s probably true.

  “Actually, Tori, Kalum did say that he should ask Annabelle for your phone number.”

  Tori rolls her eyes and I can’t stop laughing now. The few times Tori and Kalum have hung out with us, it’s been quite the sight to behold. They are both shameless flirts and quick to the trigger. Anyone in the room with them can see that they have the hots for each other, but both are too hardheaded to make the first move.

  “You can tell Kalum that he can grow a pair and ask me himself,” she says as she picks up her purse and her Home is where the wine is sign that she painted tonight. “Then I can be the one to tell him I wouldn’t fuck him with someone else’s vagina.”