“What kind of ultimatum?”
“He told me that he wasn’t going to be a dirty secret anymore, that if he was going to be part of my life, he deserved the chance to know the other people that love me as much as he did. I sort of freaked out and told him it was over.”
I sighed and cut her a sideways look. “You didn’t really?”
She nodded and looked up at me. “I did.” She sniffed a little and I reached out to put an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I know you liked him.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“I love him. I was going to call and tell him that I made a mistake and ask him to forgive me when Mom called and said she couldn’t wait for brunch on Sunday and that she was so excited to finally meet Wes. The stubborn bastard called her and ratted me out and outmaneuvered me. He worked around all my fears and got himself exactly where he wanted to be.”
I had to admire the man’s persistence. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him, then.”
She nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “It’s the same Sunday you’re bringing Hyde to meet Mom, so hopefully she’ll be distracted by his adorable face and not embarrass me too much.”
I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “Don’t worry, sis, I can embarrass you enough for the both of us.” My mother had been chomping at the bit to get her hands on the little guy, but I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure how to describe all the new adults that were going to be a part of his life to him. I kind of wanted to wait until he knew I was his dad before I broke the news that he also had a grandma who was dying to smother him in love and affection. Holding her off while I made sure Hyde was ready had been a Herculean feat.
This time her nudge almost knocked me over, so I let her go and she pointed toward the kids with her cup.
“He loves you already. He’ll be fine when you tell him. You didn’t need to call me and Joss in for backup, though I’m so happy we finally got to meet him. Joss is obsessed with having a cousin now. If you don’t tell him he’s ours forever, she will. You know my kid and her mouth.”
“I know . . . it’s just . . .” I trailed off, not sure how to put my fears into words without sounding like the coward she had accused me of being.
“It’s just that you want him to like you, and you want him to still be your little buddy, but, Zeb . . .” Her tone got stern in that older sister way that meant I better listen to what she had to say. “As a parent, there are times when he’s not going to like you very much at all. So you better get used to it now. It’s your job to do what’s right for him, not what’s easy.”
I lifted a hand to rub it across my beard and moved to tuck my hands in my pockets. “I know. Sayer keeps telling me pretty much the same thing.”
That brought Beryl to a halt as the kids skipped ahead of us to go look at some mountain goats.
“How are things going with the lady lawyer? I didn’t realize you were seeing her outside of the courtroom—officially anyways.”
I shrugged. “She’s making me work around her.” I looked at her out of the side of my eyes. “Sound familiar?”
She blushed a little and pushed some of her dark hair out of her face, and the nippy wind suddenly kicked up. I felt it sting my ears and frowned at Hyde. He needed to put a hat on if we were going to be out in the cold much longer.
“Have you talked to her about it? Why she makes you work around her? I told Wes about Joss’s father, about what happened with you and how it changed me, how it changed my relationship with all men, and I think that’s part of the reason he refused to give up. I also told him about our dad leaving. I never really thought it mattered, but the older I get the more I wonder if that’s part of the reason I fell for the first guy that told me he loved me even though he smacked me across the face five minutes after saying it.”
I swore under my breath at the question and at the memories her words stirred to life. “She won’t talk about much. I know her dad was an asshole. I don’t think he used his hands on her or anything, but she always shuts down when I try to bring the past up. Her mom committed suicide when she was a teenager and I think all of that has led to her being pretty closed off, but when we are alone together, when I get inside, she’s the warmest, sweetest, most thoughtful and caring person I’ve ever met. I just wish I didn’t need a crowbar to get at it all the time.”
Beryl let out a low whistle and reached out to pat my arm. “You know that words can hurt just as much as hands if they are wielded effectively. She could have those walls up for a reason. Just like I did.” She gave me a sad smile. “And losing her mother like that . . . the girl comes with baggage.”
She didn’t just have baggage, like I did. She had a vault full of secrets and emotions she was keeping under lock and key. She didn’t realize I was willing to throw every tool I had at my disposal at her fortress, even if I had to pull out the dynamite and blast my way in.
“She doesn’t talk about it and she runs off when I try to get her to open up.”
Beryl sighed heavily again. “Falling in love after you’ve been hurt so badly is terrifying. You better lace up some tennis shoes and prepare to chase after her if you plan on keeping her around.”
I laughed a little and switched my attention back to the kids.
“Mom, I’m cold.” Joss hollered the statement from where the kids had paused a few yards ahead to wait for us. She grabbed Hyde’s hand and they started walking back toward us.
Beryl tossed her cup in the trash and put her hands in her coat pockets as I took mine out so I could hoist my son up in my arms. His cheek was freezing as he pressed his face next to mine so he could rub his face into my beard.
“I’m cold, too.” He sounded sleepy and I hated that I was going to have to take him back to the foster home he was currently staying in until I could have him with me.
“I know, buddy. We need to get you a hat.” I rubbed a hand over his dark hair and felt even more of my heart settle in his tiny hands.
He pulled back from where he was cuddling into me and looked at me with a miniature scowl that so obviously matched my own I had to fight down a chuckle.
“You don’t wear a hat, Zeb. If you don’t, I don’t. I hate hats.”
I glared at my sister as she hooted out a laugh. The boy had inherited more than my coloring and my height. It seemed like my stubbornness and natural defiance were coursing through him as well.
“I do when it’s cold. I just forgot it today, and when I tell you something like that, you need to know it’s for your own good, Hyde. If you’re cold and a hat will keep you warm, then I’m gonna make you wear a hat even if you don’t want to.”
He seemed to consider it for a second, matching green eyes locked on mine in an unwavering battle of wills. I thought I was going to have to explain that I didn’t want him to catch a cold and that everyone wore a hat in Colorado in the winter, some even when it wasn’t winter, but just as fast as his defiance flared to life it quieted back down and he nodded at me solemnly.
“Okay, Zeb. If you want me to wear a hat so I won’t be cold, then I will.” His eyes widened and a crooked smile that was missing a tooth flashed across his face. “Can it be a Batman hat?”
I snorted out a laugh. “It can be whatever kind of hat you want as long as you wear it.”
Joss heaved a dramatic sigh and asked if we could go get pizza. I was going to say no since I fed Hyde pizza the last time I had him for a visit, but apparently five-year-olds could eat pizza every day and his eyes lit up at the prospect.
It was a short drive to a pizza shop on Colfax, and as we all piled into a booth it ended up being the kids on one side and the adults on the other. I was really happy my niece had decided to take Hyde under her wing. He seemed at ease with her and I thought that maybe spending more time with my family would ease him into understanding I was his father and he wasn’t alone anymore. I was still trying to figure out the best way to tell him, the easiest way to explain the situation, when I heard Jo
ss tell Hyde:
“I don’t see my dad, but that’s okay because I see my gram and Uncle Zeb all the time. And my mom has a man friend named Wes that is really nice. He watches cartoons with me and helps me do homework.”
Hyde nodded sagely like he understood all those words and reached for his plastic cup that had the lid on it.
“I never had a dad, but I had lots of uncles.”
Beryl was leaning forward to derail the touchy subject when Joss turned to the dark-haired little boy and blurted out the words I had been struggling with for weeks. “Uncle Zeb is your dad, so you have a dad now. The best dad ever.”
I opened my mouth in shock as Beryl barked her daughter’s name in horror. I was gaping at my son like a fish as he turned wide eyes in my direction.
“What? It’s true. Why am I getting yelled at?” Joss huffed out the words, but I barely heard them as my son continued to watch me like he was afraid I was going to disappear in a puff of smoke before him.
His head cocked to the side and he lifted his cup to his lips so he could slurp on his soda. When he was done he leaned forward a little bit and asked, “For real?”
I wasn’t sure he really understood what it all meant, so I nodded. “Yeah, for real. I’m your dad, and I’ve been working really hard so that you can come stay with me all the time really soon.”
I waited for him to cry, or to ask a million questions. I waited for him to be happy or upset. I waited for him to do anything, but he just stared at me and continued to play with his cup.
Beryl asked him if he was all right and he nodded without saying anything. I thought I should grab him and go, but the pizza came and he devoured a massive slice, still without saying a word. Joss was pouting because she was in trouble for speaking out of turn, and I knew Beryl was concerned about the anxious tension that was rolling off of me in waves.
We finished and paid the bill. I told Joss I wasn’t mad at her because she looked like she was going to cry and told my sister I would call her after I had Hyde settled. Really I meant I would call her after I was settled but that was neither here nor there.
Once I had the little boy strapped into his seat in my truck, I climbed behind the wheel and started across town to take him back to his temporary home. I was watching him out of the corner of my eye as he stared out the window.
“You okay back there, buddy?”
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a second and then he said my name softly. “Zeb?”
I plastered a smile on my face and nodded encouragingly at him when he twisted to look at me.
“You’re my dad?”
“That’s right.”
“And I can come live with you?”
“Eventually. There are some things I have to do first, but I’m working really hard to get them all done.”
He stuck out his bottom lip like he was thinking really hard and then he stated so chillingly and matter-of-factly that it made my heart clench. “My mom died. I don’t want you to be my dad if it means you’re going to die.”
“Oh, Hyde.” I had to take a moment to get my composure back so I could answer him. “Your mom did some things that were really dangerous. I don’t do any of those kinds of things, so my chances of dying are really slim. I have you to take care of, so I promise to do my very best to stick around as long as possible, okay?”
He was quiet for a long time but eventually sucked his lip back in and flashed me that uneven grin.
“Okay.” He leaned back in his seat and looked out the windshield. “Will you still play with me and let me ride in the truck?”
I wanted to laugh but instead it came out as a wheeze of relief. “Yep. We can play every day and we’ll go for a ride in the truck whenever you want.”
He clapped his hands and grinned even wider. “If you’re my dad, does that mean when I get bigger I’m going to be a giant, too?”
That made me laugh for real. “Possibly, but you have to be a friendly giant if you get this big.”
“I can do that.”
And just like that, it was settled. I was his dad, he was my son, and we were a team from here on out. It was a good day and I needed to thank my niece and her big mouth and total lack of filter for doing what I, a grown-ass man, a giant according to my kid, hadn’t had the balls to do.
From the mouths of babes.
CHAPTER 13
Sayer
I scowled at the pretty saleswoman dressed fairly similarly to my own after-court outfit as she cruised by where Zeb was shaking his head at the price of bedding for a kid’s bed. She’d already asked once if she could help us find anything in the sprawling department store located inside the upscale Cherry Creek Mall. And I had already told her once that I knew exactly where we needed to go, so I could only assume her return appearance had more to do with the way Zeb’s ass looked in his faded jeans and the way his flannel shirt pulled across his shoulders than it did with any actual desire to help.
When she caught my dirty look she scampered off just as Zeb tossed the package containing the sheets with a thread count no little boy would ever appreciate back on the shelf. He crammed his hands through his wavy hair and turned to me with a frustrated huff. I saw an older lady who was looking at bath mats in the same section jump and scuttle to another aisle like Zeb was the Big Bad Wolf and he was getting ready to blow the whole place down. I liked the way he looked, more than liked it. He looked like he could take on the entire world and win, but that was apparently intimidating to the average high-end shopper. I rolled my eyes and turned to him as he put a hand on my elbow and started to lead me out of the linen section.
“Don’t they have sheets with trains on them or superheroes? Who spends five hundred bucks on a pair of sheets that the kid is gonna outgrow in a few years when he needs a bigger bed?”
His frustration was kind of cute. “I would. I won’t even tell you how much the sheets on my bed cost.”
He shifted his eyes to me and moved to wrap his bulky arm across my shoulders. The same older woman gave a sniff of disdain as we walked by and it was the saleswoman’s turn to give me a dirty look as we swept by on our way back into the belly of the mall.
“I like your sheets.” There was humor and innuendo laced together in his tone. “But your bed could be covered in sandpaper, and as long as you were naked on top of it I wouldn’t even notice.”
“Ouch.” I muttered the word softly but couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure that followed his sweet statement.
He chuckled at me and let his gaze skip over the rest of the fancy stores and their modern lettering and minimalist window decor. “I’m not going to find stuff for a kid’s room anywhere in this mall, am I?”
When he texted me and asked me to go with him to find stuff to get Hyde’s room ready, I initially wanted to tell him no. It felt too intimate, too permanent. It felt like not only was he crafting a place for himself in my everyday, but was working to make a specific space for me in his very busy and complicated life as well. I was so close to the edge with him. I hovered so close to letting go and falling all the way in with him. I was hanging on to that precipice with only my fingertips and it was so scary. At the place where there was nothing and it was barren and empty, I knew I was safe even if it was aching alone. I knew if I let go of the ledge the drop could kill me, that the impact would shatter me, so I kept clawing and clinging to familiar ground to keep myself aloft. As hard as I was holding on to the cliff and not wanting to give in to every emotion he pulled from me, Zeb was constantly there below, tugging, dragging, urging me to crash into him and into every promise of love and forever I could see he wanted to give me.
When I hesitated he told me that he had already asked Beryl, but Joss was home sick and his mom had plans for dinner. He insisted he needed a woman’s touch to help him get things right for his son’s homecoming and I couldn’t resist, but the only place to shop that I was familiar with in Denver was Cherry Creek. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot it was clear his dirty Jeep didn’t f
it in with the Mercedes and Audis littering the parking garage and our trip into Nordstrom’s had only solidified the fact that where I shopped wasn’t exactly Zeb’s cup of tea. Even if the girls who worked there liked the rugged eye candy he provided.
“There’s a Bed Bath & Beyond on the other side of the mall. I bet they have sheets with trains on them.” In hindsight we probably should have started there. The chain store was much more Zeb’s speed and more kid-friendly in general. “I told you I’m not good at decorating and stuff. I’m beige and pastel all the way.” Beige and simple colors weren’t offensive. If a color could be offensive. According to my father, it could be. According to him, everything was worth judging and finding fault with if that meant he could use it to make someone else feel poorly about what they liked or found pleasure in.
Zeb tugged me closer and dropped a kiss on the top of my head as several people moved out of our way. He commanded space and people seemed to automatically give it to him. It was impressive to watch and sent a little thrill down my spine knowing that I was fortunate enough to be the one he was making that space for.
“You only think you’re beige and pastel. You like color and you like things that are different and fun; you just hide them in places where you think no one will notice.”
I scowled a little and pulled away from him. He didn’t let me get very far. As soon as there was room between us he reached out and caught my hand in his. I couldn’t remember a single time in my whole life when anyone had held my hand. Not my father, not my mother, not Nathan . . . no one except Zeb, and it rattled me to my core. All at the same time I wanted to pull free and clutch him so tightly he would never let go. That hold I had on what I knew from before loosened even more. I was clinging by fingertips now.
“What are you talking about? Everything in my house is muted and neutral. Everything I own is a basic, plain color. Even my car is gray.”
He snorted at me and squeezed where our hands were locked together. “But I bet you a million bucks that your underwear is bright purple or blue and that your toes are painted some crazy color with a design on them. Your workout clothes are black and gray, but every single piece of them has some neon strip or some splash of color in the design. Not to mention you could’ve paid someone to cover up that red wall in your kitchen or you could’ve bought a new building or an updated home instead of sinking a fortune into restoring and customizing that old beauty. You have your own flare, Sayer. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and it’s beautiful if someone is smart enough to look for it.”