“That his father lives across the country and couldn’t come to California with us.”
“And that satisfies him?” he questions, arching a brow.
“Well, he’s five; it doesn’t take much convincing. He’s got a pretty short attention span, so he typically moves on pretty quickly.” I shrug.
“And what about when he gets older?” he presses. “Are you going to tell him the kind of guy his father was?”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” I admit. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I’m just curious.” He shakes off whatever seems to have settled over him. “Come on, I’m dying to meet this little dude.” He smiles, making a move to exit the car.
I grab his forearm, halting his movements.
“Actually, would you mind waiting in the car?” I ask, feeling weirdly awkward asking such a question. “My grandma is really weird about who I bring around Jackson, and even though you’re just an old friend, I really don’t feel like getting the fifth degree right now. I will say friend and all she will hear is guy I’m screwing.”
Ant chuckles next to me, clearly finding humor in my statement.
“You think I’m kidding.” I nudge him with my elbow.
“I think it’s good that she’s protective of him,” he says, falling serious. “Doesn’t hurt to have people looking out for you.”
“True. I just wish she did it in a less intrusive way.” I shake my head. “Just stay put, okay? I’ll be back in five minutes,” I promise.
“I’m timing you.” He checks his wrist even though he doesn’t have a watch on.
I smile, quickly climbing out of the car, my stomach full of what can only be described as butterflies; feeling like at any moment I’m going to take flight.
God, I just need to get over whatever the hell is wrong with me right now. I mean, Ant always had a way of making me feel a little giddy. I acknowledged the crush I had on him long ago—at least to myself—and I found a way to not let it affect our friendship. So why is it I can’t seem to shove those feelings back into the same file as before—the one that says Property of your Best Friend, do not open.
I try to push down the inner turmoil brewing deep in my gut and step inside the house, finding my grandpa kicked back in his normal recliner, a newspaper just inches from his face. I smile at the sight. How my mother came from these people I will never know. They are sweet and caring, willing to do anything for anyone. And my mom… Well, let’s just say she couldn’t be more opposite.
“Hi, Grandpa.”
My voice pulls his concentration and he looks up from his paper, meeting my gaze over the top of his glasses.
“Hi, darlin’,” he greets me with his usual endearment.
“Where’s Grandma?” I ask, finding the house quieter than it normally is when my child is here.
“She’s out back. That boy of yours is helping her in the garden.”
“Putting him to work, is she?” I smile.
“More like he’s putting her to work. He couldn’t wait to go outside and dig.” He chuckles, setting the newspaper in his lap.
“So he should be nice and dirty for me then,” I joke, crossing through the living room toward the back sliding glass door.
“That’s what grandparents do,” I hear him say just moments before I’m exiting into the backyard.
My eyes instantly land on Jackson, his dark hair matted to the side of his face from sweat as he uses a green plastic shovel to dig next to my grandma. He looks up when he hears the back door close and instantly jumps to his feet.
“Mama!” He smiles wide before taking off toward me.
“Hi, buddy.” I lean down and give him a big hug despite his dirt-covered clothes. “You having fun with Nana?”
“She let me pull weeds,” he says excitedly.
“She did?” I laugh, knowing that in ten years she probably won’t be able to pay him to pull weeds, and yet at this age it’s something he thinks is so cool.
“He’s the best helper.” My grandma appears next to him, almost as dirt covered as my son, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun away from her face.
“Were you good for Nana and Papaw?” I ask Jackson, though it’s meant for my grandma and as such, she’s the one who answers.
“As always.” She runs a hand through his messy hair. “Jack, baby, why don’t you go clean up your tools,” she says to Jackson, who nods and takes off toward the garden. “Did you and Tess do anything fun last night?” she asks the moment he’s out of earshot.
“Actually, Tess stayed with Sebastian last night,” I say.
“So they worked things out?” she asks, knowing pretty much the whole story when it comes to Tess and Sebastian having heard me talk about it several times. My grandma is an amazing sounding board.
“It appears so; though, I’ve yet to actually speak to her since I dropped her off at his apartment late yesterday afternoon.”
“Did you end up doing anything then?” she asks; though, I kind of wish she hadn’t. Not that I have anything to hide, but her asking reminds me of the man currently sitting in my car just on the other side of the house.
“I actually hung out with Ant last night.” I bite the bullet and go ahead and throw it out there. Ant is my friend, and if he’s planning to stay in California it’s likely we will be hanging out in the future. No reason to hide it from a woman who knows pretty much every single detail of my life.
“Ant?” my grandma questions, thinking on the name for a moment and trying to pinpoint where she’s heard it before.
“He’s a friend of mine from high school. He actually dated Courtney for a while,” I quickly add, hoping that will squash anything she has to say on the dating front. “He’s actually staying with Sebastian, and we ran into each other when I took Tess over there.”
“And what did the two of you do?” She raises a brow, questioning.
“We went out for dinner and drinks. It was nice. We we’re pretty good friends in high school, but I hadn’t seen him since moving here.”
“Well that’s nice,” she says when Jackson bounces back up next to her, even though I get the feeling she wants to say more.
“You ready, buddy?” I ask, looking down at Jackson who nods excitedly.
“Thanks again for keeping him,” I say to my grandma, giving her a quick hug before extending my hand to my son who happily takes it.
“Anytime.” She smiles, dropping a kiss on top of Jackson’s sweaty head. “You be good for Mommy, and the next time you come over Grandpa and I will take you to feed the ducks,” she promises.
There’s a pond with a walking trail less than a block from my grandparents’ property and is probably Jackson’s favorite place to go when he visits.
“Okay!” he gets out excitedly, looking up at me as if to ask if he can come back tomorrow.
“Soon,” I promise, throwing my grandma another smile before leading Jackson around the side of the house to the driveway where my car is parked.
As if just remembering Ant, I pause just feet from the front of my car and bend down so that I’m at my son’s level.
“Hey, buddy. Mommy brought a friend with her,” I start.
“Is it Aunt Tessy? Are we going to the park?” I swear his memory is spot on. He forgets nothing I promise him.
“No, Aunt Tess wasn’t able to come to the park today, so I brought another friend to go with us. His name is Ant.”
“Ant?” He looks at me funny.
“Like the little ants on the ground,” I say, knowing that’s what he’s thinking.
“That’s a weird name.” He crinkles his nose, pulling a soft laugh from my throat.
“Yes, I suppose it is. But it’s short for Anthony, which really isn’t very weird.” I tip his chin. “Would you like to meet him?”
“Sure.” Jackson shrugs like he couldn’t be any less affected by the fact that he’s meeting someone new.
I watch Bree as she talks to her son in fron
t of the car. I’m transfixed on the interaction between the two of them, honestly a bit taken by just how much he looks like her. Even from my vantage point I can see he has the same dark hair, the same nose, and the same wide eyes. I don’t know why, but I expected to see a little Blake walk out. A weird sense of relief floods through me that the little boy really looks nothing like his abusive, girlfriend-beating father.
Even the thought of him putting his hands on Bree has me clenching my fists in my lap. It’s been years and yet my reaction to this knowledge still hasn’t changed.
Bree stands, crossing around the driver’s side of the car before opening the back door. The little boy climbs in, his big brown eyes landing on me the moment he does.
“Hi, buddy,” I smile, greeting him.
“Why are you named after an ant?” he asks, his face scrunched up in a way that has laughter bubbling out of me before I can even think to form a response.
“Jackson.” Bree gets on to him though it’s clear she’s fighting back her laughter.
“What?” he asks, looking at his mom who leans in the car and fastens his seatbelt.
“You can’t just ask people things like that,” she says. “It’s rude.”
“It’s okay, buddy,” I cut in. “Some of my friends started calling me that when I was around your age. I guess it just kind of stuck,” I explain.
“I wouldn’t want people to call me an ant,” he says bluntly.
“Jack,” Bree scolds, fighting the smile on her lips.
“I didn’t like it much either at first,” I admit. “But I got used to it.”
“Are you taking me to the park?” He switches subjects without missing a beat.
I look at Bree who climbs into the driver’s seat and then turns around to look at her son.
“Yes, buddy, we’re going to go to the park,” she answers before I have a chance to.
“Can Ant push me on the swings? I bet he can push me really high,” he says, turning his attention to me.
“I just so happen to be the best swing pusher in California,” I state proudly.
“Really?” He bounces excitedly in his seat.
“Really, really.” I wink, turning to Bree to find her watching me with a weird expression on her face.
The moment she catches my gaze the look disappears, leaving me questioning if it wasn’t just in my mind.
“Well, shall we?” she asks, looking from me to Jackson and then back to me.
“Let’s do it.” I grin back at Jackson who returns my smile with an even larger one.
Spending the afternoon at the park with Bree and Jackson is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. While I have two nieces back home in Connecticut, I’ve never spent much time around little boys. To say he’s kept me on my toes would be the understatement of the year.
Jackson, or Jack as I’m learning his mom usually calls him, has more energy in one finger than I think I possess in my entire body. Everything is interesting to him, and he bounces from one thing to the next so quickly that sometimes I have trouble keeping up.
After making a go of the swings, Jack decided that I was, in fact, the best swing pusher around. This didn’t keep him entertained for long, though. He whipped through every piece of equipment at the park three times over before we’d even been here ten minutes.
Bree chases him around from here to there with a sense of ease that I never knew from her as a teenager. Honestly, there is very little about this girl I even recognize. The girl I remember was wild and fearless, always down for a good time.
She wore her hair much shorter than it is now and always had it dyed bright red. There wasn’t a thing that girl wouldn’t do. Of course, I always suspected there was something that fueled that wild behavior. Finding out about Blake and the abusive relationship she had been in connected a few of the pieces together for me, but I never got to complete the puzzle.
I think that’s why I was always so drawn to her. She always put on this tough girl act, but the façade never fooled me. Only someone who knows that kind of deep-rooted pain would recognize it in another person.
It’s easy to see someone’s mask when you’re wearing one yourself.
But this girl—this woman—she’s different. Not in the sense that the pain isn’t still lurking behind those golden eyes, but rather that she’s found something that makes it bearable.
I could never picture her being a mom. Even after I learned from Courtney that Bree was pregnant, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. But seeing her now, it’s clear just how very wrong I had been to assume she couldn’t make it work. Not only has she made it work, but she’s a natural at it. It’s clear to see that Jack is her world, and that she is his.
Watching the two of them together makes me feel something I can’t quite explain. A sense of longing almost, though I’m not sure what exactly I’m longing for…
A child?
A family?
Bree?
I shake off the thought, knowing it’s never going to happen. Well, not the last part anyway. I sealed that deal when I decided to start dating one of her best friends my senior year.
Bree, Courtney, and Tess were thick as thieves in high school, and from what I can tell still are. Too bad I didn’t realize just how strong the pull was with Bree before I was balls deep in Courtney.
Trust me, I know how fucking big of an asshole move pining after my girlfriend’s best friend was. But I was seventeen, and I recognized something familiar in her. It was slow growing, something that built over the course of my senior year, and by the time I really grasped how my feelings had morphed it was already too late.
And not just because of Courtney.
Bree was getting ready to give birth to Jackson and preparing for her move to California, while I was weeks out from moving to Boston for the next four years. You would think the pregnancy thing would have lessened my attraction to her, but truth be told, I think it only intensified it.
So I did the only thing I knew to do, I ended things with Courtney and washed my hands of the entire situation. I knew back then what I still know now: Bree Kingsley is and will always be the one girl I missed out on.
I made my peace with this a long time ago. But being here with Bree, seeing her smile and laugh, reminds me of the girl I used to know. The one who I couldn’t stop thinking about for months. The one who controlled my thoughts long after I had moved away and let her go.
“Hey.” Bree plops down on the bench next to me, pulling me from my thoughts as she lets out an exhausted breath.
“Good to see I’m not the only one wore out.” I chuckle when I glance over to see her head back, eyes closing for the briefest moment.
“I think I’m losing energy. Someone needs to feed me,” she whines playfully, spreading her hands across his slender stomach.
“Mama!” Jack chooses this moment to launch himself into his mother’s lap and she quickly jerks upright, arms going around him so he doesn’t fall to the ground. “I’m hungry.” He bounces up and down on her legs.
“You were saying?” I chuckle.
“Can we get chebutt and French fries?” he asks, continuing to bounce.
I quirk a brow at Bree. “Chebutt?” I mouth.
A small laugh escapes her mouth. “Ketchup,” she mouths back. “He knows how to say it but for some reason he won’t. It has always been chebutt.” She shakes her head. “How about we go to Charlie D’s?” She turns her attention back to Jack who nods his head excitedly.
“Charlie D’s?” I ask, having never heard of it.
“It’s a little local burger joint a couple blocks from the apartment. It’s Jack’s favorite place to eat.”
“Sounds good.” I say, realizing just how hungry I am myself. “Charlie D’s is it.”
It’s just after nine when Bree finally emerges from Jackson’s room. She looks exhausted, hair falling from her ponytail around her face, eyelids heavy. Fuck if she isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
&
nbsp; “Get him down okay?” I ask when she slides down onto the couch next to me, pulling her legs up in front of herself.
“Finally.” She gives me a lazy smile. “I swear my grandparents pump him full of candy before sending him home to me. He’s never as hyper as he is after he comes home from Nana’s and Papaw’s.”
“That’s what grandparents are for.” I grin, knocking my arm against hers.
“Yeah, that’s their excuse too.” She tries to stifle a yawn.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep? I should probably take off anyway,” I say, sliding forward on the couch.
“You’re leaving?” She sounds disappointed, and fuck if that doesn’t annihilate every ounce of motivation I have to go anywhere.
“I figured you’ve probably seen enough of me over the last couple of days,” I tease, reaching out to playfully squeeze the spot above her knee. She squirms under the contact and bats my hand away.
“But Sebastian’s is almost an hour away,” she objects.
“That’s what Uber is for.”
“Stay,” she offers, her voice soft. “There’s no rush for you to leave right this minute. Jack and I can run you back over tomorrow.”
“You sure?” I ask, not wanting to put her out but also not really wanting to leave either. She’s not the only one who’s exhausted, even though that’s definitely not the only reason I want to stay.
“Yes.” She nods, smiling when I scoot back into the couch cushion and prop my feet on the table in front of me, dropping my arm over the back of the couch behind her.
“Okay.” I yawn. “But only because I can’t take your begging,” I tease, tensing when she turns and snuggles into my side, her head resting against my chest and her arm stretching around my stomach.
She feels too good against me—too perfect—and fuck me if I can’t stop myself from dropping my arm off the back of the couch to wrap around her slender shoulders.
“Shut it,” she finally responds, snuggling deeper into my side, the sweet weight of her against me doing things to me that it shouldn’t be doing.
Relax, Treadway, she’s just a friend. I remind myself. But even knowing that doesn’t stop me from trailing my fingers up her arm, loving the way her skin prickles under my touch.
When Dawn Breaks Page 4
