I frowned as I turned on the burner. “Four people?”
“It looked like you, an angel, Jamie, and, I think, me.” He winced a little, then stole another veggie slice.
I pointed a wooden spoon at him. “Keep doing that and I’ll have to chop up another one.”
He opened the fridge and grabbed another pepper, tossing it in the air and catching it deftly in his other hand. “Give me a knife, baby, and put me to work.”
“Baby.” I snorted. “The knife’s right there.”
Wyatt rinsed the pepper, then cut it up, leaving half for me and putting the other half on a plate. “I’m hungry,” he said by way of explanation.
I shook my head. “I’m starting to understand where Jamie’s impatience comes from.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He pressed a red slice to my lips. “Open.”
God, the man loved that word. And just hearing it had my thighs clenching. He may have meant to feed me a veggie, but usually, that command was tied to something much sexier. The knowing glint in his gaze as I complied said he knew exactly where my mind went, and he’d intended for that.
“I love when you’re obedient, sweetheart,” he whispered, nipping my neck. “I’ll go see if I can figure out what’s bothering our little man.”
His words warmed me inside and out. Our little man. This wasn’t the first time he had used that phrase.
We’d yet to really discuss the future, and the two-month agreement we struck was set to end next week. However, Wyatt hadn’t said a word about what he wanted to do. To be fair, neither had I. It was much easier to just exist and take it one day at a time. But things did seem to be falling into place. Finally.
Garrett finalized the sale on Jean’s condo last week and transferred the funds into an account under Jamie’s name—per my demand.
I didn’t want any of the money, something Wyatt only half-heartedly fought me on. All the assets Jean had hidden from me were transferred to Jamie. Of course, I had to play trustee of the account until his eighteenth birthday, which I only accepted because I had no intention of touching a dime of it.
I had my own job and my own home. But I couldn’t deny that little nest egg would make affording college much easier for Jamie down the road. It would also set him up for a comfortable life beyond it.
A weight had lifted from my shoulders. I no longer had to worry about Jamie’s future, only my own. And right now, I was content to live in the present.
I added the veggies to the saucepan, smiling as I thought about Wyatt playing with me in the kitchen. The man was a certified flirt. We hadn’t discussed exclusivity, but it didn’t seem to be needed. Not with him spending every night in bed with me. Anytime he did leave, it was with me or Jamie or both of us.
And he didn’t seem to miss his old life, hadn’t mentioned once wanting to visit any of his friends or family. The only plan we’d discussed was his intention to fly to Hawaii in ten days for his brother’s wedding. Jamie and I would be joining him the week following, which Wyatt said would be for the actual ceremony.
“No.” Jamie’s sharp tone preceded his march into the kitchen, where he stopped with his hands on his hips. “Rebel friend is being annooooying. Tell him to stop.”
“Yeah? What’s he doing?” I asked, glancing over Jamie’s shoulder to where Wyatt stood leaning against the kitchen island. He’d followed the little man with a smirk.
“He wants me to tell him ’bout my picture, and I don’t wanna.”
“Why not?” I wondered while adding the sauce to the sautéed beef and veggies. Spaghetti Bolognese was one of my favorites.
“ ’Cause I don’t want to!” He stomped his foot for emphasis.
My eyebrows actually rose. “Don’t you take that tone with me, young man.” He knew better. I finished stirring the sauce, added a lid, and turned down the heat to let it simmer. “Why don’t you tell me about your drawing?”
“I don’t want to!” he snapped.
“You need to calm down,” I snapped right back. “What’s going on, dude? What happened today?”
“I don’t want to talk about it!” he yelled, storming off in the direction of the living area.
“You weren’t kidding,” I muttered, looking at Wyatt.
“He’s been acting like this since I picked him up.”
“Yeah, well, it’s about to stop.” I followed Jamie to where he sat with folded arms in his chair. He’d turned up the television to a deafening level that I halted by clicking the Power Off button on the remote. “Talk to me, dude.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I threw back at him. “Right now.”
“No!” He glared at me with tears in his eyes.
Wyatt squatted down to meet him at eye level. “Jamie, man, you can’t talk to your Auntie A like that.”
“Why not? She’s not my mom.” He looked away. “I don’t have a mom!”
My voice failed me, his words a knife through my heart. She’s not my mom. I… I didn’t know how to reply to that, didn’t know what to say. He’d never said anything like that to me before.
“Who told you that?” Wyatt demanded, clearly not having the same issue as me.
“My friend at school,” Jamie muttered. “He said Auntie A isn’t my real mom ’cause I call her Auntie A.”
Oh God…
My knees threatened to buckle beneath me, forcing me to grab the chair for support. I couldn’t hide the horror on my features, the pure shock rippling through my veins. But Jamie missed it all, his focus on the fireplace beside the television.
Wyatt stared at his son, his intensity palpable. “What else did this friend say, Jamie?”
“That my picture isn’t real ’cause it’s not a fam-aly.” He sniffled, breaking my heart. “That I don’t have a real mom. ’Cause Momma Jean’s an angel, so that’s why Auntie A has me. And she’s not my mom ’cause I don’t call her that. And I don’t have a dad ’cause, well, I don’t know why. But he said it’s ’cause no one wants me.”
“Well, this friend of yours sounds jealous to me,” Wyatt replied.
“Gel-o-us?” Jamie repeated, his brow furrowing. “What’s that?”
“It means he wants an Auntie A and a rebel friend, but he can’t have one, so he’s making you feel bad about it.”
Jamie shook his head. “Nah. He has a mom and a dad. All my friends has ’em. ’Cept me.” He looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. “They kept askin’ me ’bout Momma Jean. I told them she’s an angel. They said it’s ’cause my momma’s dead. But… what’s dead mean? That she’s an angel? That I don’t get a mom? ’Cause that’s what they said. That I don’t get one now. But I want one. So why don’t I get one?”
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, willing the sob climbing up my throat to go away. But I couldn’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes.
Wyatt reached out to grab my hand, but his focus remained on Jamie. “Just because Momma Jean is an angel doesn’t mean you don’t have a family. You have me, and you have your Auntie A.”
“But that’s not the same,” Jamie said, his nose scrunching. “They said I don’t has one ’cause I don’t have a mom or dad, that my family isn’t real.”
Wyatt sighed. “Little man, you don’t have to call someone Mom or Dad for them to be your family.”
“But I want a mom and a dad!” Jamie shouted, losing his temper all over again. “I don’t want an Auntie A or a rebel friend. I want a real family, jus’ like everyone else!”
He jumped up and took off in the direction of the stairs, but Wyatt was faster. He snagged Jamie around the waist and pulled him into a hug.
I stood motionless, unable to speak or move. I’d never anticipated any of this—that children would be the ones to explain to Jamie that he no longer had a mother. Part of me had hoped I’d be his legal mother before that ever happened, that he could start calling me Mom.
“Jamie,” Wyatt whispered, hugging his sobbing son. “You have a dad
, little man.”
“No,” he cried, shaking his head back and forth rapidly. “I don’t has one.”
“Yes, you do.” He pulled back to cup Jamie’s cheeks. “I’m your dad.”
My heart stopped. I suddenly felt like an imposter in the room, observing a moment never meant for my eyes. But I couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t take my attention away from Jamie’s little face. His forehead wrinkled. “My dad?”
“Yeah, little man. That’s why I’m here. I’m your dad.”
“But you’re… you’re rebel friend.”
“A rebel friend who is also your dad,” Wyatt said, conviction underlining his tone. “It’s why you have brown hair and brown eyes. Like mine.”
Jamie blinked, his mouth forming an O. “Like yours?” he whispered loudly.
“Yep.”
Jamie finally looked at me. “Does that mean you’re my momma, too?”
I swayed, the world darkening around me. Because I realized in that second that I would never be able to say yes, that I would never be able to call him mine. That I would always be his Auntie A, not the one he could call Mom even though I loved him with every beat of my heart. “No, sweetheart,” I managed to get out on a croak. “No, I’m just Auntie A.”
But I wanted to be more.
I wanted to be his mom.
I’d tried to be his mom.
But the law refused me.
Wyatt tried to grab my hand again, but I stepped back. “I just need a moment,” I mumbled, excusing myself to the other room. I didn’t want to let Jamie see me break. I couldn’t. I had to be strong. I had to pull myself together, force a smile, and pretend that everything was just fine. That I wasn’t dying inside knowing that I could never have what I truly desired.
That the little boy I raised as my own would never truly be mine.
He had a father and a family. One that didn’t include me. And never would.
I would forever be… Auntie A.
25
Wyatt
“No, I’m just Auntie A.”
Avery’s words from that fateful night nearly two weeks ago played on repeat in my head while I watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean from the balcony of my hotel suite. She’d put on one hell of a show after that, pretending to be fine and refusing to talk to me about it later that night.
Not that I knew what to say to her.
She was his aunt, not his mother.
Even though she acted as a mom in every definition of the word.
But I knew how the law worked—she couldn’t adopt Jamie. Not with me around as his biological father.
And I refused to give that up, not after the way his eyes lit up at the reveal of just who I was to him. He’d already started calling me Daddy Wyatt, as if it were the most natural thing in his existence. And each time, I watched the light die in Avery’s eyes because she knew he’d never have that bond with her.
I took a swig of my water, irritated as fuck that I couldn’t help her fix this. The best I could do right now was to continue living with them, which allowed her to remain in Jamie’s life. But we both knew it wasn’t the same, not when I could just walk out with him at any moment.
“You look like shit,” Garrett said, joining me on the balcony.
“Thanks.” I glanced at him in his pristine suit and snorted. “It’s, like, eighty fucking degrees out here.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I live in Houston.”
“Fair.” I swirled the ice in my glass, refocusing on the waves crashing against the beach below. “It’s weird not having Jamie here.” Avery, too. It’d only been twenty-four hours, but I already missed them both.
“You know what’s weird?” Garrett countered, collapsing into the chair beside me. “Seeing you all wrapped up in family life.” His blue eyes slid sideways to meet mine. “I never thought I’d see the day when Wyatt Mershano wanted to play house, but here we are.”
I smirked. “Don’t knock it until you try it, G.”
Because playing house with Avery certainly had its benefits—ones I explored every single night in her bed. Which I also missed right about now, but not as much as her beautiful smile and the way she murmured my name in the morning. We’d taken it easy in the sexual department after Jamie’s profound announcement, but I still spent every night with her in my arms. It just felt right. Not because I had to be there but because I wanted to be there.
“So, when are you proposing?” Garrett asked, causing me to choke on my water.
“What?”
“You heard me.” His lips curled. “I mean, it seems to be the thing to do these days with you Mershano men. And Hawaii’s the perfect location.”
“Dude, fuck off.” Marriage? No. I’d never even considered it before; why would it appeal to me now?
“Seriously?” Garrett arched a haughty brow. “You’re practically married already, what with living at her house and all. She’s proven she’s not out for your money. You clearly love the woman. And it’d allow her to adopt Jamie. A winning scenario all around. Apart from the whole commitment for life bullshit.” He feigned a dramatic shudder. “To each his own, but that fuckery is not for me.”
My lips parted to tell him to fuck off again, but the words halted in my throat. It’d allow her to adopt Jamie.
I blinked.
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
Oh, because I wasn’t about to marry a woman just so she could adopt my son.
Except, I liked Avery. A lot. Would tying myself to her be that bad?
I shook my head, my mind blown by the prospect of even considering matrimony. If I still indulged in alcohol, I’d grab a drink, because fuck.
Was I even good enough to propose to her? I was a billionaire by inheritance, yes, but I barely knew how to be a boyfriend, let alone a husband.
I didn’t have a job.
I had no future aspirations apart from raising Jamie.
So, did I want to be a stay-at-home dad? I frowned. Nothing wrong with that profession. However, it felt lacking in some way. Like I should be able to offer more somehow, not just financially but also in terms of being a role model for my son.
Like Evan, I thought for the millionth time in however many months. I still wanted to talk to him about, well, the future. I didn’t want to manage a hotel or even a region, but I wondered if there were ways to help him without having to sit in an office all day.
“You’ve gone silent,” Garrett mused. “Have I shocked you?”
“I forgot you were here,” I admitted.
He snorted. “Dick.”
“Pot, meet Kettle.”
“Truth.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Your sister is due to arrive tomorrow.”
“I know.” I couldn’t wait to see her.
“Evan has tasked me with picking her up from the airport. Said something about it being the best man’s responsibility.”
My brow furrowed. “I thought Will was his best man.”
“And see, that’s what I said, but your brother claims we’re both his best men.” He scoffed at that. “I think he’s punishing me for something.”
I chuckled. “Why’s that?”
“Did you miss the part about having to retrieve your brat of a sister?” He sounded so irritated by the prospect. “How about you go find her instead?”
“Ah, I see. You came down here to try to pawn off your responsibility on me.” I snorted. “Good luck with that, G.”
“Come on. You owe me after all this shit in Georgia. I’ve been on my best behavior. I’ve helped. Now it’s your turn.”
I decided to fuck with him a bit. “Sorry. Can’t. I hate the airport.”
“You Mershanos are worthless,” Garrett growled, scowling at the ocean. “Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.”
I feigned shock. “You think we’re friends?”
“I just suggested you propose to your girl—which I believe is a solution to your moping, by the way. And you repay me with that line? Yeah, fuck you.”
My gaze narrowed. “I am not moping.”
“Yes, you are,” he argued. “You’ve been moping around since you got here. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Propose to the girl. Get married. She adopts Jamie. You all live happily ever after and all that sappy shit. The end.”
“Wow, no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” a feminine voice said from behind us.
Garrett grinned wickedly as he glanced at the gorgeous brunette. “I’ve just not found anyone as charming as you yet, my dear Sarah.”
“I bet,” she replied, folding her arms. “Did he come down here to ask you to pick up Mia?”
“Yep.” I smiled widely at Garrett’s resulting grimace. “But I agreed because I want to see my sister.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
I shrugged. “You know, for helping me with all that ‘shit in Georgia.’ ”
“What is with you and Mia, anyway?” Sarah asked, causing Garrett’s expression to shutter.
“Nothing.” He stood. “She’s just a brat.”
“Uh-huh,” Sarah replied, watching as he stalked off. “There’s more to that story.”
“Yep.” I knew some of it but kept my mouth shut out of respect for my little sister. Once upon a time, Garrett broke her heart, and they’d not spoken much since. I pushed away from my chair to stretch my legs. “Hey, have you seen Evan?”
I didn’t bother asking why she’d ventured downstairs. If she wanted something, she’d say it. Because if I’d learned anything about my future sister-in-law over the last few months, it was that she did not pull any punches.
“Yeah, he’s upstairs on a conference call,” she muttered. “Which is why I’m wandering.”
“You should steal his phone,” I suggested.
“I’ve tried that.” Her gaze held a devious twinkle to it. “He always gets it back.”
I looked her over with a smile. “I bet he does.”
“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to check out another man’s woman?” a voice drawled from the foyer, causing me to squint into the interior of the suite. The lack of lighting made it difficult, but I was almost certain I knew the source.
The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series Page 18
