The Child Who Changed Them (Parent Portal 5)

Opening the garage with the button in her car, she pulled into her usual spot, telling her heart to stop pounding so hard. Taking a deep breath to help herself where she could.

Greg met her at the bumper. “I owe you an apology,” he said before she could even form her lips around a hello. “I’m sorry. I...needed some time to assimilate and I acted like an ass.”

“No, you didn’t.” He’d walked out. He hadn’t been brash or purposefully unkind.

“I handled the situation all wrong,” Greg said, meeting her gaze. “Can you grant me a do-over?”

There were no do-overs in life. There was only going on from where she was, but still...

“You want to come inside?” she answered his question with one of her own.

Still in the jeans and black shirt he’d had on that morning, he looked...wonderful. His sandy hair was windblown, giving him a carefree appearance that she, at that moment, found so appealing.

“I’d like to talk,” he said. “How about if we do something we’ve never done and go get some dinner?

It might be easier for us if we were in a generic place, with life going on around us.” His tone was serious.

She knew he was right. With a nod, she headed back toward her car door.

“Elaina?”

“Yes?”

“I thought maybe we could drive together.”

Oh. Well, it made sense. It wasn’t like they were going to have sex. It was only dinner. Between parents.

With another nod, and an admonition to her emotions to mind their manners, she followed him out to climb into his highly efficient, but not parenting-practical, lovely blue car.

* * *

They decided together where they’d eat. Truth was, Greg didn’t figure either of them for being all that hungry, but the location allowed for the fact that they could have private conversation without being easily overheard. The restaurant, set on a cliff overlooking the ocean, was pricey, with high booths set up against a wall of windows. There were tables, too, set far enough apart to allow for the private high-powered business conversations that took place there regularly.

It was early yet for the evening crowd and they were shown a corner booth, offering them the privacy they’d need.

He ordered a mineral water, though a shot of scotch would have been nice to go with it. And he wasn’t a scotch drinker.

She opted for cranberry juice with a side of water.

“I’ve had the day to process and I want to say, first and foremost, that I respect how difficult this must be for you.” He started to speak as soon as their waitress had left, their menus still lying unopened in front of them.

“It can’t be easy for you, either.” Her gaze was clear, if distant, and he wondered if maybe he should have given her time to go in and change out of her scrubs. If maybe the doctoring attire was like a shroud of distance in which she’d wrapped herself.

So much for the clear thinking he’d thought he’d reached.

Of course, she could have said she wanted to change.

Maybe neither one of them was thinking all that clearly.

Maybe that was okay.

But he had things to say, and now was the time to say them. “I appreciate that you planned to raise this child on your own,” he said, pulling from the mental list he’d spent the day preparing. “And I understand that there’s going to be emotional residual on your part due to the fact that your husband was supposed to be the father of the child...”

Yeah, he’d been processing the things he needed to say—and her probable responses—all day long. Over and over again.

“I’m glad you understand, Greg, but this...isn’t what we need to talk about.”

“What do we need to talk about?” he asked, partially just out of curiosity. He’d spent the entire day figuring everything out. She’d had an hour at most during lunch and on the drive home.