“I think he’ll be fine, Walker.” I closed the door behind me and hung my jacket on one of the hooks there. “Clara has things well in hand, and he’s so excited.”
“I just don’t know. If he were a regular kid, I think it would be easier.” And he was off and running again—or pacing.
I shook my head and moved toward him, intent on blocking him before he wore out the carpet or his thumbnail, which he was already gnawing on again. “No, I think every parent has a hard time when they first let their little people spread their wings. And this is a good first step for him, let’s him have a taste of what he’s striving for after the challenges to come.”
He reached me and stopped. “You’re right. But I’m not going to be able to sleep all night. Do you think I could go over and hang out with Clara and her husband? Maybe play cards?”
“Don’t you think it would cut into Graham’s stab at independence? None of the other kids’ folks are there. Just the in-house chaperones.” I wanted to occupy him somehow, but I quickly discarded going out to eat or to the theater because he wouldn’t want to be farther away than we already were. “But I think we should distract ourselves for the evening. What would you like to do?”
His quick grin didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You should go out or something. With Graham gone, there’s no reason you should have to be stuck here.”
“Heck, no,” I told him. “I have no plans. In fact, since you bring it up, I’d just be bored all evening. Unless you don’t want to hang out with me?” Because I really want to hang out with you.
“No, I do want to—I mean I appreciate your offer. Maybe we could get takeout and watch something on TV?”
“Sounds good to me. I guess with all the home cooking, you’ve missed the takeout?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. But mostly I just don’t want either of us to have to cook.”
We ordered curry, blazing hot and not kid friendly at all, and gobbled it on the sofa while deciding what to watch, finally settling on binge watching a ridiculous series featuring killer clowns and wolf shifters. But it didn’t really matter because we weren’t paying attention. At least I wasn’t. We were seated in opposite corners of the sofa with the most possible space between us, but that didn’t matter either. I could feel his heat from here. And his scent of soap, faint woodsy aftershave, and the clean masculine sweat he’d worked up while wearing out the floor. This was a bad idea. I’d managed not to socialize with my boss alone up until now, with Graham present whenever we were together. Spending evenings alone in my room hadn’t made me any less aware of Walker, but it had kept my hands off him.
Now the buffer of his son or my bedroom door were gone, and all I could think of was the man at the other end of the sofa. I closed my eyes, shutting out the colorful and gory images on the screen My fantasies had me reaching for him, dragging him close to me, pressing my body to his…
“Sebastian?” His breath was warm on my cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day you got here. If you want me to move back, say it now.”
I didn’t say anything.
Then he kissed me.
Right on the lips.
Chapter Eight
Walker
Any apprehension I had about kissing dissipated the second our lips touched and he sank into them. Soft and sweet quickly turned more and more heated, and while there should’ve been a part of me, the logical part, that should’ve been slamming on the brakes, it was blissfully absent and I sat there soaking in his warmth, his scent, his touch.
I held Sebastian’s face, caressing his cheeks, enjoying the slight tickle of his hair against the side of my hand. Originally, I’d placed them there to prevent their wandering, their exploring of the planes of his chest, the firmness of his ass, and the bulge I could feel against my knee, but sitting here, kissing him like this instantly became everything.
And then his tongue licked the seam of my lips, and, as I opened for him, my arms wrapped around him, yanking him closer until I was hearing bells.
No.
Not bells.
My phone.
Fuck.
Had it been any other situation, I’d have ignored it, but Graham was away, and he might need me.
“Fuck.” Sebastian expressed a similar sentiment as his lips broke from mine and I scrambled to grab my phone. “Sorry.”
He had nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I was the one in the wrong, but that would have to wait. It would all have to wait as Clara lit up my phone.
“Hello,” I answered, wanting to start with What’s wrong, but having enough filter to know that was not how I should be opening the conversation.
“Ken is puking. Would you mind picking up Graham?” Crying, followed by retching, echoed in the background. “I hope it’s the lunch he had out today and not that he is sick. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll be there,” I assured as I grabbed my keys, already at the door.
Sebastian came with me as we walked the few houses down to gather Graham. It was all I could do not to reach over and hold the omega’s hand.
Would he let me? Would he want me to? Did it matter since touching the manny as we picked up my son from a party cut short was the epitome of bad ideas. Yet still, my fingers twitched to touch his and the few times they brushed each other as we walked down the street, I dared to believe he might feel similarly and that train of thought was bad—so very bad.
We reached the front door, and it swung open as I lifted my hand to knock. Please, let him not be getting sick with his appointments lined up all week.
We gathered Graham quickly, poor Clara dealing with her puking kid, a cousin who thought her distraction meant he could literally climb the walls using the doorframes as a starting point, and her husband trying to help keep it all together. Sebastian offered to stay and help, but they insisted people leaving was the best help they could have and promised to call if anything changed.
Worst. Birthday. Ever.
Graham was disappointed, there was no denying if you caught the slightest glimpse of his eyes, but he gathered his things and thanked her for the invite and wished Ken a speedy recovery. If only the cousin followed suit.
I pushed the wheelchair down the sidewalk, Graham insisting, even as tired as he was, he could walk. It was such moments where his father shone through. All of Graham’s strength and perseverance came from him, and, as much as I wanted to tell him to get in the wheelchair, I knew using his walker the short distance was something he needed to do.
I only hoped it wouldn’t lead to a night of muscles spasms, which became more and more regular as the days passed, the only reason I’d explored the upcoming surgery. Graham was fine the way he was—perfect, and my desires had nothing to do with him looking more normal, as so many doctors point-blank asked me along this journey. I just needed my little boy not to be in pain, and if this long road led to that ending, it would all be worth it.
If.
Graham didn’t fit the normal profile, and while s a common enough surgery at the hospital we were going to, it was not common for cases like his, indicating the results were beyond not guaranteed, they were a crap shoot.
“I should go to bed?” Graham asked as we walked in the door, the television still on from when we left. “Or…”
“Or we could have our own slumber party.” Sebastian was so much better at this than I was. I had been ready to send him on his way and to climb into my own bed and overthink all of the events of the evening.
“That!” Graham’s face lit up, he squealed, and it was set. We were going to have our own slumber party, complete with sleeping on the floor, junk food, games, movies, and anything else he wanted to do. It might not be the night he’d imagined when he packed his little bag and headed down the street, but we were going to make it the best one possible.
All thanks to Sebastian. He really was what we needed. Which made me kissing him an even dumber idea, even if we’d both enjoyed it. We needed him and the chances of kissing not fucking
it up were slim to none. It couldn’t happen again.
Even if it had been everything.
Chapter Nine
Sebastian
I couldn’t let Graham’s big night collapse into nothing. He’d been keyed up enough all afternoon to be almost throwing up himself, and I remembered the feeling. Being a kid with new adventures on the horizon. This particular kid had big challenges ahead and needed to be able to keep his eyes on the prize. More sleepovers and fun times with friends. A bright future to see through the pain and stress of his surgery and recovery. The physical therapy alone would be tough on anyone, but I had faith in Graham.
And I wanted to make sure to be the best possible support manny in the world for this brave, smart, loving boy.
And his dad.
As I left the two of them selecting a video game for our “all night marathon,” and went into the kitchen to make popcorn with M&Ms and soda—something reserved for only the most special occasions—I brushed a hand over my lips, remembering the feel of Walker’s on them. The man could kiss.
But, with regret, I tried to put it behind me. It was just a one-time thing. Graham was our priority, and we couldn’t afford to get lost in an affair and forget about his needs. The next weeks and months would be filled with doctors’ appointments and therapies and up all nights when it wasn’t about video games but pain or at least discomfort.
How selfish would it be to start an affair with his dad right now?
Besides, it could never be just an affair with Walker. He was too special, and I was already falling for him. For once, I could be glad my assignment would be temporary. Once Graham recovered, I’d be off to help another family. There were pictures of Walker’s late husband, Graham’s other dad, all over the house. He’d been gone a long time, but not forgotten by the man who’d loved him. Even if it wasn’t professionally bad, getting involved with this heartbroken widower could only lead me to a similar state when he was still too in love with someone else to make room for me.
I set the bowl under the air popper and a couple of tablespoons of butter in a small bowl in the microwave. The popper had a melting compartment in the lid, but it was plastic and would only end up sticky and gross eventually, so house rules were don’t use it. As the white fluffy kernels piled up in the bowl, I fetched the bag of M&Ms from the top pantry shelf and added a handful to our treat then drizzled the butter and a little salt over it, tossed it all around, and assembled the tray.
“Hey, are you coming or what?” Walker called from the living room. “We don’t have all night…or yes we do!”
Graham’s laughter mingled with his dad’s and reminded me I was not quite really family here. But I was determined to do my job and enjoy their company as best I could. This was the life I’d chosen, wanting to use my nursing degree to work one-on-one with kids and families instead of in a hospital setting where they came and went. Sometimes, I wondered if it had been a mistake. My friends from university were settled in those hospital positions and seemed pretty happy there. Most of them had significant others and children of their own.
I’d been so sure it was the right choice. Maybe after Graham and Walker, I’d consider one of those jobs. Living all over the country—and once overseas for a year—had seemed great at first, but I was getting a little tired of never having roots.
Shaking off the morose thoughts, I marched into the living room with my tray of treats, a big fake smile plastered on my lips. “Okay, I’m ready to beat the socks off both of you. What are we playing?”
Luckily, we didn’t make it all night. By about one, we’d switched from video games to a movie, and Graham lay across both our laps, eyes closed and a trickle of drool puddling on his father’s lap beneath his cheek.
“I should get him to bed,” Walker whispered, stroking a lock of hair from his son’s eyes. “Thank you for helping to make this a fun night for him, after all.”
“He’s a good little guy, and he was so disappointed. But there will be other nights with friends in his future.”
“Once we get past the next few months.” Walker’s gaze was fixed on Graham. “I hate he has to go through so much all the time. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“No.” My voice was low as well, but I was watching the father. “It isn’t fair, but sometimes that’s just the way it is. All we can do is be there to support him and make sure he never loses sight of the end game, of the fuller, better life waiting there.”
“I know you’re right. But I wish I could do it for him.”
“I know.” Despite the voice inside me insisting I not, I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m here to support you, as well. Whatever you need.” I hurried on before he took it to mean something it shouldn’t, something it probably did. “For the coming weeks, I don’t have an ‘official’ schedule. I am available all the time. You will both be under a great deal of strain, which my job is to ameliorate, to make things smooth. To make sure you both eat and rest and have the least worries possible, okay?”
“That doesn’t sound fair either. You shouldn’t have to work extra hours—”
“I’m not a regular manny. I take on these special duties because I want to, not because I have to.”
“I won’t take advantage of you…”
I gave his hand a firm squeeze. “You’re not, and I wouldn’t let you. This is not my first rodeo, you know. We are Team Graham, wearing the T-shirts and cheering him on.”
“About what happened earlier, I-I shouldn’t have, umm…”
“Don’t think about it. You’re very attractive, and a great kisser, but the timing is really bad.” Among a thousand other reasons why we had to retreat.
“Exactly. I’m glad you understand.” He gave a big sigh, looking down at our joined hands. “I haven’t kissed anyone, I mean outside of a family kind of kiss, since I lost my husband.”
“I’m honored to have been your first step back in the deep end.”
Suddenly, his eyes flicked upward and met mine, his grip fierce on my hand. “If you think that was the deep end, you haven’t been in the pool much lately either.” Then he pulled away and stood, taking his son with him. “I’ll get him to bed. Night, and thanks for everything.”
“You, too,” I murmured, leaning back to watch the rest of the movie, too wound up by the kiss and his words to sleep anytime soon. The deep end… I was so in trouble here.
Chapter Ten
Walker
“I’m scared, Daddy.” My big strong little man suddenly sounded his age, and it broke my heart.
“I am, too, Son.” I leaned over and kissed his head, which sported a cap made out of almost-paper, barely fabric stuff. “But you have all the best doctors in the world, and they are going to take the best care of you.”
It was surgery day, and, at four a.m., we waltzed into the place, eyes wide open, sleep having evaded all of us the night before, although I doubted we would admit it out loud. He was determined to be our rock through all of this, but his worry shone in his eyes. He’d grown to love Graham. It was impossible not to and, with love, came worry. It was just the way of things.
“I know, Daddy, and I’m strong.” He was, too, far stronger than he knew.
“It’s time,” the intake nurse announced as he pulled open the curtain of the pre-op area at just about nine a.m. Somehow, the two-hour process took many more, but if that meant all things were in place as needed, I was fine waiting all day. Fine-ish, anyway. I wouldn’t be fine until I saw my little boy awake on the other end of this.
“You’ve got this.” I squeezed Graham’s hand as Sebastian’s settled on my shoulder, letting me know he was there for me without breaking the moment between Graham and me.
“Are you coming in?” Graham all but whispered. When the doctor first suggested I come into the OR until he was asleep, I’d left it up to Graham who swore he didn’t want me there. The nurse had me suit up anyway, telling me on the sly kids often changed their minds in both directions, everything surrou
nding surgery easily fostering in his words, “wishy-washy choices” for everyone.
“I am with you as long as you want me,” I reassured not wanting to push my need to follow him in onto him.
“Stay.”
The nurse put something into his IV, a medication he’d told me earlier would be added as he was rolled in, the one that got him good and drowsy so panic wouldn’t settle in at the last second. I had a feeling I was going to need some.
“Always,” I vowed.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” Sebastian’s breath tickled my ear as he spoke low and close. “You aren’t alone.”
How tears didn’t fall from my eyes as he gave me his own vow I could only attribute to my need to be strong for Graham.
“I will be there when you wake up, wonder bug,” Sebastian promised as three men began to push the bed down the corridor and into an elevator where we were lowered into the basement.
Thankfulness didn’t begin to describe how I felt about Graham’s eyes beginning to flutter closed. The trip felt more like a horror movie scene than the happy-happy you saw on television shows. Why was the OR in the basement of all places?
We stopped outside the room, and they helped me get on the finishing touches to my scrubs including gloves. They rolled him inside, and the nurse had me stand to the side as they settled him onto the operating table and wheeled out his bed. It was getting real. All the appointments, all the research, all the everything came down to this one day, this one hour, this one moment.
“You can go hold his hand, Dad,” a nurse I hadn’t yet met spoke through his mask.
I closed the distance, trying to ignore all the beeping, all the covered trays I knew held the tools that would break my son in order to fix him, all the scents shouting hospital. I needed to be there for Graham. Nothing else mattered.
“I love you,” he said as the anesthesiologist lowered the mask over his face after explaining to us both about what would happen. They didn’t pretend to do the counting down thing from television, instead instructing him to breathe deeply, which he did with tears coming out from behind his lashes. It was enough to break a man.
A Bundle of Mannies Page 59
