by Ciara Shayee
Stifling the urge to reach out and cup his face, I tighten my arms around Finley instead. “That sounds like a great idea.”
*
“Come on, little face. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m not sleepy—yawn—though.” Arlo smiles sheepishly as I carry him toward his bedroom. “Okay, maybe I’m a teensy bit sleepy.”
“Let’s go, Lo.”
As I tuck him into bed with his stuffed animals, I smile at his soft humming. “What tune is that?”
“I don’t know,” he admits with another big yawn, wiggling around to get comfortable under his blanket. “Kellan was hummin’ it before.” His eyelids are already drooping as I perch on the edge of his bed, running my fingers through his wild hair and brushing the soft locks away from his face. I know I’m biased, but he really is a beautiful child with his dark, dark eyes and almost honey blond hair. One day, this kid is gonna be a serious heartbreaker and I’ll have to beat girls—or boys—away from him with a stick.
I’ve heard of plenty dads of girls threatening to wield shotguns when boys come knocking, but as a mom of three boys, I’ll be fuming if any of my sons come home one day and tell me they had a gun anywhere near them. I’ll kill any person who dares to pull a gun on my boys.
Blinking hard, Arlo glances over my shoulder and whispers hopefully, “Can Kellan come say ‘night,’ too?”
“I’m here, buddy.”
Warmth spreads through my chest as I turn to peer over my shoulder and spot Kellan leaning in the doorway. Releasing a girly sigh, I bask in my happiness. We’ve had such a lovely day.
We ate our picnic under the wide, swaying willow boughs with the boys chatting happily and Max chewing on a new bone. Kellan’s smile barely wavered, his earlier thoughts probably not forgotten, because he’ll never forget Willow, but sidelined at least for the afternoon as he tossed a ball with the boys and helped them fly the kite Dad gave them.
With full bellies and love in our hearts, we sprawled out on our plaid blanket and cloud-gazed until the boys grew restless, then Kellan somehow carried a sleepy, slightly over-walked Max back to the car where he snored for the entire drive home.
After walking us inside, Kellan headed to Burger Co. for a few hours, returning shortly before six with two big paper bags full of all the boys’ favorites from the restaurant. If they hadn’t already worshipped the ground he walks on, they would have after that.
My smile almost hurt when he rubbed his neck, bashfully admitting that he’d memorized the boys’ favorites so he could bring them back with him.
Then we had a glorious evening relaxing in the back yard. The boys begged to have the sprinkler switched on, so I got it set up on the grass while they changed into their board shorts. Kellan and I sipped cold sodas on the porch as Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo cooled off in the water, the sun slowly sinking beyond the horizon, painting the sky all the colors of the rainbow. Interspersed with the boys’ squeals and Max’s excited yips was the sea meeting the shore on the other side of the dunes and gulls squawking overhead.
Kellan wears a small smile as he steps into Arlo’s bedroom now, his eyes asking my permission as he hikes up the fabric of his shorts over his thick thighs, crouching beside me so he’s eye-level with Arlo. Nodding, I swallow the lump of emotion lodged in my throat and take a metaphorical step back.
“Will you tell me a story?”
My eyes dart to Kellan’s face, but he’s smiling.
“Sure, buddy.” Instead of reaching for the books stacked on the nightstand, Kellan purses his lips for a moment. “Can I make one up?”
“They’re the best kind.”
“I agree,” Kellan whispers, keeping his eyes on Arlo as he starts telling a story about a young knight, winking at my gleeful son when he tells him the knight’s name is ‘Arlo.’ I can hear Max scratching at the door down the hall, so I excuse myself and leave them to it, following the pup out into the back yard. As he potters around the grass, sniffing and periodically checking to make sure I’m still there, I let myself feel the unexpected rush of grief that flowed through me as I watched Kellan give Arlo the bedtime story he’s never gotten from his father, as I mourned the fact that Kellan should be able to give that joy to his daughter every single night, but he can’t.
It’s not fair that Arlo—and his brothers—is missing out on a dad, that Kellan is missing out on his little girl.
My heart hurts for them all, a choppy breath escaping me just as Kellan’s boots hit the porch.
“Arlo’s asleep,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. The rasp of his beard against my skin feels amazing, but my stomach still churns, my chest still aches, and I bet it’s nothing on how Kellan feels each and every day he has to go on without Willow.
Twisting in his embrace, I cling to Kellan’s chest, hot tears leaking from my squeezed-shut eyes.
“Hey,” he breathes, gently tugging my face away from him with a thumb under my chin. “What’s wrong?”
“I…”
Looking into his eyes, his beautiful, grassy green gaze, I’m mortified by the tears that tumble over my cheeks. His worry is clear, his thumb soft as he brushes the tears away. My pulse races as his brows furrow. The emotions rushing through me, this protectiveness, isn’t unfamiliar. It’s similar to the love I have for my sons, the way I always want to look after them and keep them from hurting.
It terrifies me.
Two weeks ago, I admitted that I could see myself falling for Kellan. Standing here now, the fading sunlight highlighting his hair and the gold flecks in his eyes, I know for sure that resisting my feelings for him would be pointless. This man, with all his complexities, has breached my barriers in spectacular fashion and made a mockery of my determination to swear off men. It hasn’t even been two months, but the way I feel about him…it’s not just friendship or a crush.
Seeing him with the boys today, after listening to him talk about Willow, has shown me that the Kellan I used to know is still in there somewhere. The fun-loving, lopsided-grinning Kellan I crushed on years ago is desperate to escape the hard-faced, closed-off Kellan of today.
I see him in the moments when he thinks he isn’t being watched, in the interactions between him and my boys, and the fantasies that he inspires when he looks at me like I’m someone he wants to keep, when he holds me and coaxes pleasure from my body that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, short stuff?” he finally murmurs, resting our foreheads together.
I’m scared to even acknowledge my own thoughts, let alone voice them into existence. I’m scared that he’ll think I’m ridiculous and unloading all my crazy on him will be the thing that pushes him away.
But above all, I’m terrified that I’m falling in love with him and there’s a very real chance he doesn’t, and won’t ever, feel the same way.
*
The following morning, I’m not surprised when I wake up in an empty bed.
Kellan surprised me by staying over last night even when I tried to play off my tears by saying I was just tired, and it was sweet watching him with the boys today. Though I don’t think he was convinced, he’s easily distracted—a few teasing kisses and a little nudge toward the hall that leads to the bedroom put an end to his questioning. We eventually fell asleep curled around each other, his strong heartbeat under my ear. Waking up alone doesn’t come as a shock, though. He always sneaks out before the boys can bust us.
Stretching with a yawn that makes my eyes water, I glance over at the clock and frown. It’s way past the time Jaxson would usually have me out of bed, not to mention Max. The silence makes me nervous, so I don’t pause to use the bathroom before slipping a long tee over my head and hurrying out of my room. Finding Jaxson and Finley’s room empty, I figure the boys are all in Arlo’s bedroom; they love the bay window as a spot for playing with their Lego. Only, when I pus
h the door open, my stomach lurches.
They aren’t there, either.
“Boys?” I call, panic coloring my tone. When no one appears, and no bear-like puppy comes running, I speed through the house, checking every room before throwing open the door to the back yard. It’s only as it swings open and I’m seconds from full-blown panic that I feel something stuck to my bare foot. The pink Post-It comes from the stack on the kitchen counter, the one I use for grocery shopping lists. The boys also like to draw on them while I cook. However, the writing on this one doesn’t belong to any of my boys.
Don’t freak, short stuff. The boys were getting restless and hot so I offered up the pool. Come find us when you’re up, we have breakfast. Kellan, Max, and the boys.
Palming my racing heart, I tip my head back and close my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Reminding myself that Kellan is doing something nice, giving me a chance to sleep in, I get myself ready and skip a shower in favor of finding my boys sooner. Bypassing Kellan’s front door, I head straight to the yard gate and let myself in.
Any residual annoyance I felt seconds ago pours from my body, my shoulders sagging as my heart sprints away from me.
Shirtless and dressed only in a pair of flamingo-print board shorts and his aviators, Kellan has Jaxson under one arm, Finley under the other; Arlo is already in the water, lounging on an inflatable crocodile and giggling like a crazy thing as Max swims circles around him. None of them have noticed me yet, so I get to watch with a silly smile on my face as Kellan counts down from three before tossing both boys into the pool to the sound of their little brother’s laughter.
The uninhibited, sun-soaked smile on Kellan’s face as he guffaws at the boys fills me with hope.
He’s magnificent in his joy, resplendent in his openness. There’s no hiding when he’s alone with the boys like this. No defenses. I can’t bring myself to feel jealous of my sons because I still get to see this and know that, with time, he can be this man all the time. I believe in him and I believe in the power of love to get him through the trials we’ll face.
When Arlo spots me, tipping himself off his float in his excitement, Kellan’s head pops up and his smile-crinkled eyes find my beaming grin. I see the lightness in his gaze, the happiness in his smile, and I know.
I’m not the only one falling.
Twenty-three
Kellan
As I slide my sunglasses back into my hair, reaching for my beer with my other hand, I breathe a sigh and grin around the mouth of my bottle.
It’s been a great day.
For the first time in a while, I’ve been able to completely relax and just enjoy the company I’m blessed with. My mind has wandered less than usual, the ache in my chest noticeably absent for the time being. I can take a deep breath and feel the rare relief of oxygen filling my lungs.
More than once, I catch Piper watching me with the boys and wonder if I’m overstepping my bounds, but the stunning smile that seems to be permanently etched in her face comforts me.
“Can you cut this?”
“Sure, kiddo—”
“No, Kellan!” Raising her eyebrows at Jaxson, Piper cocks her head.
“Uh, please?” Jaxson amends, flashing her the puppy dog eyes. I glance down at Max, patiently waiting for any scraps the boys might sneak his way, and wonder if he’s been giving the boys lessons on that face. They seem to be extra good at it today.
“If Kellan doesn’t mind…” Piper trails off, looking at me now, and I know she’d take over and cut Jaxson’s food if I wanted her to.
Grinning, I set down my beer and twist a little so I can take Jaxson’s knife and fork. “How big do you want the pieces, bud?”
Again, I can feel Piper’s eyes on me, but I focus on Jaxson and ruffle his hair as he mumbles his thanks, diving back into his food with enthusiasm that makes this chef a happy camper. I used Dad’s steak rub recipe tonight and it’s gone down a treat with the boys—even Finley, who doesn’t usually like anything with too much flavor. I think I actually whimpered the other day when he told me his favorite food is McDonald’s chicken nuggets.
I’ll make a food connoisseur of the boy yet.
The sun slowly sinks as we enjoy dinner together on the patio. It doesn’t escape my notice that it’s the first time this table has been used for anything other than my bottle of whiskey in years, or that this yard hasn’t seen laughter and smiles for years, either. I pay one of my neighbor’s teen kids to clean the pool every so often, but I can’t remember the last time it was used before today. Although it feels odd to have company here, it’s a nice kind of odd. A refreshing change to the usual silence that blankets a house I once imagined would be home to my big family.
As I watch Arlo blowing bubbles in his soda, Finley sneaking the tomato off his plate and under the table to Max, and Jaxson asking Piper for more of the potatoes, I breathe it all in.
The smells of summer hang in the air; barbecued food, the faintest hint of chlorine, and the sunscreen Piper slathered on the boys earlier. If I listen beyond the chatter around the table, I can hear the relaxing whoosh of the waves meeting the shore, the gulls screeching as they soar overhead, and the breeze rustling the palm leaves.
If I close my eyes, it’s the exact kind of summer evening I pictured myself enjoying here for years to come when Willow came along. She’s the only thing I’m missing as I suck in a shaky breath and blow it out again slowly, opening my eyes to Piper’s mouthed “Are you okay?”
Smiling, I sneak my hand under the table and twist our fingers together on my knee, giving them a squeeze. “I’m more than okay.”
And it’s all thanks to you and these boys.
*
The next week passes in a whirlwind of getting Piper used to everything at Burger Co. while battling the summer crowds, organizing the schedule for my two-week vacation to Utah next month, and trying to sneak time with Piper when she’s not too busy with her family or getting the boys ready for their first day of school.
In the stolen moments at the restaurant and the passion-fueled, sleepless nights we spend together in her bed afterward, I find my fire.
Over noisy dinners with the boys, rowdy games of soccer on the beach, and impromptu pool parties when the sprinkler doesn’t cut it, I find my smiles and my laughter.
And in the random texts Piper sends me ‘just because,’ the whispered phone calls when the boys take my spot in her bed at night and I’m relegated to my own house, and the mornings I wake up with her wrapped around me, I find my peace.
When I see Kendra on Friday and admit that I’m welcoming my emotions for the first time in years, she fights a smile. “Enjoy your return to the land of the living. Remember, living your life doesn’t dishonor Willow’s memory. She’d want you to be happy, wouldn’t she?”
Dashing a tear from my cheek, I nod and manage a shaky smile. She was a bright, funny, caring little girl. Yes, she’d want me to be happy.
When Monday dawns, I text Jones and promise to meet him at the restaurant soon, I just have a surprise to set up first.
Jaxson, Finley, and Arlo step out onto the front porch just as I finish up and step back to admire my handiwork, crossing my arms with a grin as the boys fly down the steps onto the grass.
“This is so cool! That’s my name!” Arlo yells, probably waking up every person on the street with his excited screech. He’s grinning as he bounces under the big blue balloon arch with his name spelled out below in smaller silver balloons. Thankfully, I thought ahead and dug the pump out of the garage, otherwise it would have taken hours to inflate enough balloons to make three arches. There’s one for each of the boys in their favorite colors.
“Did you do this, Easy?”
Smirking at my new nickname, I drop to a crouch and catch Arlo as he barrels into my arms. “I did. Do you like it?”
“I love it!”
My new nickname, Easy, is a result of miscommunication, really. I watched the boys at t
he restaurant twice this week while Piper worked and Carson and Bethany were out of town, and they heard the crew calling me ‘EC.’ He figured they were saying ‘easy,’ I guess, and cheerfully announced my new moniker over a BBQ at my place on Saturday. His brothers have adopted it, too, and Piper had great fun teasing me about its other meaning in bed later that night.
“Good, bud. I’m glad.” Turning my attention to Jaxson and Finley, I’m relieved to find them smiling, too. “What about you two?”
“It’s awesome, Easy,” Jaxson tells me with a lazy grin, his twin nodding his agreement just as a faint click captures all of our focus.
Piper lowers her phone, her lips in a wide smile that shows off her pearly whites as she steps down onto the grass. “Kellan…this is so nice of you.”
Shrugging, I feel my ears heating up. “It’s nothin’, just a little something I did…” for Willow.
“C’mon, Willow. Daddy’s got a surprise for you outside.”
“Ooh, for me? I looove surprises, Daddy!”
“What a shocker! I’d never have known.” Chuckling, I grab Willow’s little pink backpack and usher her out the front door, knowing Shannon is already out there with the camera rolling.
Willow’s loud scream makes me wince even as I laugh harder at her excitement. She bounces down the steps and along the path to the pink and purple balloon arch bearing her name.
“Daddy, it’s so pretty! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Shannon snorts. “I helped, too! Do I get a ‘thank you?’”
“Sure, Mommy.” Willows bounces into her mom’s arms for a brief hug before skipping right back to me, her little arms tight around her legs and her freckle-framed smile bright as the sun when she peers up at me. “You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world.”
