Wild Dreams: A Friends to Lovers romance (Wilder Irish Book 12), Mari Carr [motivational books for men .TXT] 📗

Regardless of the fact he now understood why she did the things she did, he also knew himself. Knew his personality—his compulsion to take care of someone he loved—didn’t mesh with hers. Not at all.

Not to mention, he was still eaten up with guilt for not going to visit her. Whether that feeling was right or wrong didn’t matter. It was still there. Always in the back of his mind.

He’d never completely opened up to his foster parents, never told them everything that had happened to him, but he’d always listened to them, to their reassurances that he wasn’t alone, that he was stronger than the things he’d suffered. He’d soaked in their words, drank them down like a man dying of thirst.

Gavin realized that unlike him, most kids never got a clean slate, a chance to see parenting from a different perspective. While some might consider fifteen too old to save a kid, Gavin had been saved. Sean, Lauren, and Chad had taught him to love—not only others, but himself as well.

“Fine. If she calls back, we’ll tell her you’re not ready. But, Gavin, if she’s determined to find you…”

“It won’t be that hard. I’m still in Baltimore, working with you, living with Ollie. It’s okay. If she finds me, I’ll deal with it.”

Sean reached over and placed his large, strong hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

Gavin gave him a wobbly smile. “Thanks.” It was on the tip of his tongue to add Dad, but the word got stuck in his throat.

They stood up at the same time, Sean pulling him close for the quintessential man hug, giving him two hard slaps on the back.

“Well, I’m heading home. Layla’s brothers are coming down from Philly on Monday to look at the pub.”

In addition to trying to replace all the shit they’d lost, he and Oliver had spent the better part of the last three days with Sean, Justin, Killian, and a huge construction crew, gutting the pub and restaurant, reinforcing the structure, pulling out all the burned furniture, shoveling tons of soot and ash, taking the interior down to bare beams. There was still a lot of work to do, but with each passing day, he felt more and more certain they could bring the place back to life.

“What time’s the meeting?” Gavin asked. “Wouldn’t mind stopping in to say hello to those guys.”

Over the course of the past two years, the Moretti brothers had made more than a few trips to Baltimore—they really were overprotective when it came to Layla and Erin—and as such, they’d been absorbed into the Collins clan. He’d thrown back quite a few pints with Tony, Joe, Luca, and Gio in the pub, and he was grateful for their willingness to help restore it.

“Around ten o’clock. We’ve been pulling together as many pictures of the pub and Sunday’s Side as we can find, to help them once our construction crew puts the bones of the place back together. At the rate we’ve been going, we can start drywalling in a couple of weeks. Tony assures us they can make it look exactly the same.”

“That’s good. Riley doing okay?”

Sean shrugged. “She’s been better. She’s still blaming herself. I was hoping the fire inspector would come back with something other than electrical fire, but…”

“I knew what caused it the second Riley mentioned that outlet. I’m so sorry I didn’t…”

“Don’t you start too. No one is to blame. It was an accident caused by old as shit wiring. If it hadn’t started behind the walls, the sprinkler system might have knocked it down, but…oh fuck it. Lots of buts that don’t change a damn thing. We’re rebuilding it and it’ll be better than ever. That’s all that matters.”

Gavin nodded, letting Sean’s words sink in. He’d had a hard time shaking off his own guilt over his part in not preventing the fire, but Sean was right. It was time to look ahead instead of crying over what-ifs.

“Guess I should start dinner.”

Sean shook his head. “Order pizza.”

“I promised—”

“Dammit, Gavin. You had two pretty big life-altering shocks these last couple of weeks. Take the Boy Scout hat off for a night and give yourself a break.”

Gavin rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Fine.” His foster family had dubbed him the Boy Scout, proclaiming the caregiver gene ran strong inside him. He’d never bothered to tell him he was pretty sure it wasn’t nature but nurture that had created his need to take care of others.

He and Sean said their goodbyes, and Gavin walked back to the refrigerator, determined to figure out dinner. He’d just about convinced himself pizza really was his best bet—he was in no mood to cook—when Erin got home.

“Guys?” she called out.

“In here,” Gavin replied.

Erin appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. “Hey,” she said tiredly, looking around. “Ollie not home yet?”

Gavin shook his head. “Went to visit his Pop Pop. Long day?”

She sighed heavily. “Yeah. I’ve had better. You haven’t started dinner yet, have you?”

He gave her a guilty grin. “I was going to suggest we order pizza.” Then he realized she had a grocery bag in her hand. “But…you have something else in mind?” He gestured toward the bag.

“Yes. I need comfort food. My mom’s comfort food.” She walked into the kitchen and started unloading the groceries. “Homemade lasagna.”

“Damn. That sounds good. But I feel bad. You cooked last night.”

She pierced him with a haughty glare. “Oh, I’m not cooking alone. You’ve just be recruited as my kitchen help. And you’re going to clean up the mess. I’m warning you now…it will be substantial.”

He chuckled and saluted. “Fine. Tell me what to do.”

She tossed the cellophane-wrapped package of mushrooms at him. “Wash and slice those for me. And never,” she waved a box of lasagna noodles in the air, “tell my mother I used store noodles in her recipe.”

Gavin nodded solemnly. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

The two of them worked in silence for a few minutes as he chopped