in charge."
"Thank you. Do you understand why I couldn't leave them to solely exist as your mate and eventual baby daddy? I didn’t necessarily mind having kids—I want them—but offering to 'let me stay home with them if I wanted’ was nothing short of insulting."
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes for a few seconds while I thought back to our long-ago conversation. When I finally looked back at him, Gil was patiently watching me.
"This might sound unbelievable, but when I talked about us working as a team, I didn't think it through enough to understand I was asking you to leave your family. God knows I wouldn't want to leave mine. As for the babies and you being a house husband… I don't know why I even went there. Fuck. I was trying to say I was open to you doing whatever you wanted. It never entered my mind you might think I was one of those traditionalist mofos. Probably because my family doesn't associate with their kind of trash. We don't dare. My mother would gut them the first time they said something ignorant."
"Yeah, I can see Mona holding the knife. If Dear or Gibby didn't beat her to it."
"Right?" We shared a laugh, and I started to relax. "I'm sorry we never set our tempers aside and talked this out years ago. And when I say we, I mean me. Hell, I'm stupid proud of myself for finally listening to you and keeping my temper in check. I guess I should be patient with you more often."
"Patient. With me." Gil spoke slowly, replaying my words so I immediately knew I'd fucked up again. My reward for relaxing. Dammit, and I was doing so good there.
Rising to his feet, Gil pointed towards the door. "Thank you for listening to me and keeping your temper in check. Lord knows I do love to fly off the handle, and my lack of control is infamous. I promised you a talk, and you promised me a good dicking. We both got what we wanted, so how about you toddle off to your room now and pack your suitcase like a good little alpha? My plane leaves in forty minutes. I suggest you get moving if you want to be on it."
"Gilligan… I didn’t get my thoughts out clearly again. Please don't kick me out like this—let me explain until you understand." I knew I’d shoved my foot further in my mouth when all traces of violet left his eyes and they turned the icy blue, seemingly reserved for me.
"My name is Gil. You don't get to call me Gilligan, so forget you ever heard my full name. And no, I don't need you to alphasplain what you said in such a way my feeble brain can comprehend it. Like I said, talking and dicking have been accomplished. Go. Away."
If I walked out the door like this, it would be a cold day in hell before I got him to talk to me again. I had to try one more time. "Gil, come on. We were doing so well. Please don't let this turn into more fighting."
Gil's eyelashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes. "This isn't a fight, it's a minor argument. If we were fighting, my foot would've already connected with your throat. Learn the difference. Maybe if you take time to study how words work, you might eventually learn to communicate better."
Glancing at his watch, he straightened, flipping his braid over one shoulder. "Tick-tock, Danny boy. You’ve lost another two minutes of packing time. I meant what I said about my plane leaving on the dot. You're down to thirty-eight minutes, so I suggest you get moving."
At least I knew I'd tried. But then again, maybe quitting before making a complete ass of myself might’ve been better. I took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine, I'll go. But we will talk again, Gil. I'm not letting another twenty-three years go by without figuring out how to get things right with you."
I stiffened at the snort I heard as I exited the room. I was half afraid of getting my ass kicked at this point, although Gil wasn't the type to take a man down from behind. No, he'd want to look me in the eye if he decided to attack. He spoke so softly I almost missed what he said in my rush to exit.
"We'll see. If we talk again, it'll only be because I decide to allow