Loving Kalvin (The Kennedy Boys Book 4)

by Siobhan Davis

  “I’m proud of you, Lana, and we both love you very much.” She kisses my temple. “I always knew you’d make a great mom, but you’ve surpassed all my expectations. I know things haven’t been easy, but I admire your strength and your determination. I admire how you’ve pulled yourself out of that dark place you were in and how hard you’re working to create a better life for you and your son. I genuinely hope things work out for you with Kalvin, but if they don’t, you’ll be fine. More than fine.” She pats my hand. “Forge your own path in life, sweetheart. Don’t rely on anyone else to do it for you.”

  I’m a complete Nervous Nellie the next morning as I wait in the lobby for Kal. The front gate confirmed he just arrived. After what feels like eternity, the doorbell chimes, and I take a step forward. I dressed Hewson in a cute blue-and-white polo shirt and shorts. He’s been in great form all morning and is not due a nap for a little while. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest, I’m sure you can hear it echoing along the cavernous hallway. I open the door with clammy palms.

  The sun has decided to grace us with its presence today, and thick beams of glorious sunshine bathe Kal in a golden glow. He’s wearing snug-fitting dark denims and a white T-shirt under an open azure button-down shirt that brings out the blue in his eyes. Pristine navy sneakers adorn his feet. The scruff from his chin is gone, and some color has returned to his face. Looking slightly uncomfortable, he claws a hand through his thick, glossy hair, and a few strands fall over his forehead. He looks sinfully good, and my heart longs for him.

  No measure of time will ever erase my attraction to him or how he makes me feel.

  The woodsy, citrusy scent of his cologne swirls around me as he steps into the lobby. His eyes are fixated on Hewson, and expectation is ripe in the air. Tentatively, he extends his hand, curling his fingers around Hewson’s. “Hey there, little buddy.” Hewson wraps his fingers around Kal’s and gurgles. Kal’s eyes fill up.

  The sharp tappity-tap of heels on the marble floor has me groaning. “Heads-up,” I whisper. “My grandmother is incoming. She’s a massive fan.” His expression is disbelieving as he arches a brow.

  “Lana, darling,” Grandmother says, leaning in to kiss my cheek—for, like, the first time ever—“there you are. And you must be Mr. Kennedy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extends her hand, and Kal shakes it while I resist the urge to run to the kitchen for some bleach to scrub her saliva from my cheek.

  “Likewise, Mrs. Williams. You have an impressive home.” My grandmother’s smile is so vast I think it might split her face in two. I stare at the stranger in our midst with growing unease.

  She pats his arm affectionately. “You’re too kind.”

  “Thank you for taking Lana and my son in.” He glances at me, looking a little apprehensive. “But, you should know, I intend to support them going forward.”

  That catches me off guard. And Grandmother. She’s a little shaken when she replies. “That’s very admirable, but Lana and Hewson are always welcome here.” She leans in, pinching Hewson’s cheek. I don’t think she’s cruel enough to deliberately hurt him—her assaults are more of the verbal kind—and she genuinely seems fond of our baby, but she clearly pinched harder than she should have. Hewson bursts out crying, and instant rage replaces the blood flowing through my veins. My motherly instinct roars inside me, and my hand is on the move before I think. Kal reacts fast, curling his fingers around mine and pulling me into his side, before I can raise my hand to my grandmother. His eyes urge caution.

  Shucking out of his hold, I cradle Hewson to my chest, rubbing a hand up and down his back as I whisper soothing assurances in his ear. I gently rock back and forth until he’s settled.

  Grandmother looks a little sheepish, but she doesn’t apologize. I don’t think sorry exists in her vernacular. “If you’ll excuse us, Grandmother,” I say through gritted teeth. “Kal and I have a lot to talk about.”

  I urge him to follow me with my eyes. He trails wordlessly behind me as I head upstairs to my room. We need privacy to talk, and this is the only place I’m confident Grandmother won’t impinge on.

  Hewson has stopped crying by the time we close the door, but his face is splotchy and tear-stained.

  “I wanted to slap her too,” Kal admits, “but that wouldn’t have been very smart.”

  I start pacing the room, holding my son protectively to my chest. “That pompous, interfering, snobby old bag!” I hiss.

  Kal steps in front of me, holding my elbow. “Stop. Chill.” He looks down at Hewson, nestling into my chest. “Can I hold him?”

  My anger flitters away. “Of course. Here.” Gently, I reposition Hewson in Kal’s awkward arms. Lifting one of his hands, I place it across Hewson’s back so he’s lifted a little higher against Kal’s torso. When Hewson wraps his tiny arms around Kal’s neck and leans his head on his shoulder, a little whimper leaks out of my mouth. I can’t help it. I’ve imagined it so many times.

  Kal is standing rigidly still, a look of utter shock on his face. His eyes well up, like my own. My son looks so tiny clinging to his dad but so at home. It’s all my fantasies come to life. Raw emotion clogs my throat, and I can’t speak. Gradually, Kal relaxes, becoming more confident as he smooths his hand up and down Hewson’s back. He looks down at him with so much love in his eyes, and I can’t stop the joyful tears from falling. “You’re a natural,” I whisper.

  “Lana.” His tone is awed. “He’s so beautiful.”

  “Of course, he is, Kal. He’s a part of you.” I shrug, trying to lighten my words even though they come from my heart and soul. “There’s no way he couldn’t be.”

  After Hewson has fallen asleep, I place him in his crib, and we head to the veranda of my room with the baby monitor. Mom has left pink lemonade and honeybuns on a tray for us, and I smile at her thoughtfulness.

  Kal looks a bit dazed as he sits down. “My heart feels so full. I didn’t think I’d feel so much, but holding him in my arms, damn, that was special.”

  “Every day with him is special.” I pour lemonade into two glasses, handing one to Kal. “That’s why it’s so hard to be away from him all week. I hate it, but it’s necessary. The reason I’m taking extra classes is so I can graduate as quickly as possible. I want to get a job and provide a proper home for him.”

  Kal takes a sip of his drink, looking thoughtful. “That’s the real reason you’re studying business?” I nod. He is quiet for a bit. “It’s kinda one of the things I wanted to talk to you about today. I have no right to demand things of you, and that’s not what I’m trying to do at all. Despite how things are between us, I still want what’s best for both of you, and living here isn’t it.” He looks over his shoulder into my bedroom. “This place is not what I want for my son,” he adds quietly. “It’s … stale, depressing, devoid of life.” A little smirk crests his lips. “Comes complete with its own domineering tyrant.” I can’t help but smile. He’s not wrong. “And I want my son nowhere near her.”

  Removing an envelope from his back pocket, he hands it to me. “This is all I have right now, but I’ll get more.” I blink excessively as I open the envelope, losing count of the amount of hundred dollar bills. “Will that help?”

  “More than you know,” I whisper.

  Chapter Thirty

  Kalvin

  She clutches the envelope tightly in her grasp. “I get the first half of my grandfather’s trust fund in January when I turn eighteen, and it’s yours. You can pay your tuition and maybe buy a house or an apartment for you and Hewson. Something close to campus would be good so I can see more of him.”

  Tears prick her eyes. “A house?” she whispers. “How much is half exactly?”

  “A mill or thereabouts,” I confirm.

  She blinks rapidly. “Wow.”

  I shrug. Money has never meant that much to me, but I know I’m lucky because we have plenty of it. All I’d have to do
is call Mom or Dad, and they’d wire the funds so Lana could buy a house immediately, but I’m not ready to tell my parents quite yet. They’re going to give me hell when they realize I sat on this, but I need to get comfortable with my son first before I bring the rest of the Kennedy clan down on top of him.

  I need this time for me. For me and him.

  Plus, I’m not sure how Mom’s going to react to Lana. When we were kids, Mom had treated Lana like the daughter she’d never had, but all that changed after I kissed her in Nantucket. I don’t know what she’s going to think now. I may be all kinds of pissed at Lana, but I don’t want her burdened with more stress.

  Brett said something last night that struck a chord. He said a lot of girls would have put my name on the birth certificate if they’d just had my kid. Use it as an excuse to bleed me dry. Lana did the opposite, and not because she’s never been into me for my money. She was attempting to give me back my life, and she mistakenly thought saddling me with a baby would interfere with that. She fucked up. No question about that. But her motives weren’t entirely wrong.

  I wish I could say it was enough to forgive her, because I want to, but I can’t help how I feel. Something is broken between us, and I don’t know if we can find our way back.

  For now, I’ve got to push that aside. Ensuring she and Hewson are provided for is my number one focus. I want them out of this fucking mausoleum, pronto.

  “I can’t take all your money, Kal,” Lana protests. “I’m glad you want to help support Hewson financially, and I’ll happily accept, but I’m not your responsibility. I can’t take your money for my tuition. I’ll fix that myself, and I already have a few ideas.”

  I knew she’d do this. I put my glass down and turn to face her, blasting her with the full magnitude of my awesomeness. Her eyes, predictably, glaze over. I’m not going to apologize for blatantly using my charm to get her to agree. This is for her too, and I’ll use whatever tricks I have in my arsenal to convince her. “I’m getting to follow my heart’s desire, and it’s only right that you do too. It’s not too late to change your major. You can still pursue your dream, and you don’t need to sacrifice your ambition anymore. I’m going to help you. I swear it. I won’t leave you to bring our son up alone. I’m invested.” Naked emotion clogs my throat. “I mean, I’m fucking useless, but I’ll learn, right?”

  Tears brim in her eyes as she nods.

  “Promise me, first thing Monday, you’ll go speak to the appropriate person and put the wheels in motion.” I see the conflict in her eyes. The unwillingness to take something for herself. The belief that she hasn’t done anything to earn it. I jump to Plan B. “If it makes you feel better, you can consider the tuition fees a loan, and you can pay me back once you are making millions from your books.” My smile is honest. I’ve been reading her stories for years, and she’s got a God-given talent. She’s going to be a very successful writer. I feel it in my bones.

  “Did you read it?” Expectant eyes meet mine.

  Fuck. The Story of Us is still sitting unopened on my bedside table like a ticking time bomb. “Not yet.”

  “Oh.” She averts her eyes.

  I tilt her chin up with my finger. “I will read it, I promise, when I’m in the right frame of mind.” It means a lot that she’d trust me with it when I know she had concerns about showing it to me.

  “I … okay. And thank you for the money. That’s enormously helpful.”

  “You’ll accept?” She nods. Thank fuck. A little bit of stress lifts off me. “I’ve spoken to Ky, and he’s prepared to loan me whatever cash we need until my trust fund kicks in. He received his, this year, and he’s hardly dipped into it.” I reach out and hold her hands, because I know she’s going to fight me on this. “If you want, you can start looking for a new place to live right away. I’ll make it happen, whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

  Tears course down her cheeks. “You can’t just swoop in and save the day.” She half-laughs.

  I smirk. “Why the hell not? I’m Hewson’s father. It’s my job to provide for him. And you’re the mother of my child, and that means I need to make sure you’re looked after too. I’m not going to take no for an answer, and we both know how stubborn I can be.”

  “Let’s not forget impatient,” she jokes.

  “Exactly. Which is why you must say yes to everything before I flip.”

  She nibbles on her lip, and so many emotions skate over her face. I want to pull her into my arms and hug the shit out of her, but I can’t. I can’t forget what she’s done. And it’s hurt me more than I’ve let on.

  “Okay,” she relents, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “But the tuition money is just a loan. I’m going to pay you back every cent, and I don’t want to buy a place, I already have something in mind.” She proceeds to tell me about Baby Gators and the family housing on campus. Her name is already on the list for the next available unit. I make a mental note to have a word with the relevant person to see if I can do anything to bump her up the list.

  I spend the rest of the day with Lana and Hewson. She shows me how to feed, change, and bathe him. We take long walks on the grounds, in between spouts of torrential rainfall, and we pour over a bunch of books covering every aspect of caring for babies and toddlers. She shoves me out the door at four p.m. before her grandmother can interrogate me during dinner.

  On the drive home, I’m feeling less freaked out and more confident than I’ve felt since finding out. I pull out my cell and punch in my brother’s number.

  Over the next week, I throw myself into my classes and the track, texting Lana daily for updates on Hewson. She forwards me photos Greta sends her during the day, and I well up at each and every one. I still can’t believe he’s mine. That we created such a perfect little baby. I pepper her phone with texts as I progress through the baby books, and we laugh together over the absurdity of some of the advice. I enjoy the flirty nature of our conversations, but I’m deliberately holding back. We need to get along for Hewson’s sake, but that’s all this can be.

  I tell Mom I can’t come home for Thanksgiving, and I spend the day at a hotel with Lana and Hewson. I know if I went back to Wellesley I’d have to confess, and I’m not ready for that yet. I hate lying to my family, but I’ve got my own family now, and they have to come first.

  Another week passes by, and I can’t believe we’re into December. My first semester is almost completed, and I’m doing okay at this father lark. I’ve spent the last couple of Saturdays with my son. Usually, I just hang around Earleton, but I make a point of taking him out on my own. It would be too easy to fall into a pattern with Lana, and I don’t want to get her hopes up.

  She handles it stoically, although I can tell by the long, wistful looks she sends my way that she wishes things were different.

  Brett came with me last week, and he doted on Hewson. We had a hairy moment when Hewson detonated a stink bomb in his diaper. Man, shit was literally flying everywhere. At least Lana had the foresight to pack a fresh change of clothes for the baby, but the same couldn’t be said for me and Brett. When I returned Hewson later that night, the smell of shit off me was puke inducing. Lana was in hysterics when I told her what happened, and I left the house with her laughter echoing in my ears.

  I’m still smiling at the memory when my cell rings, dragging me back to the present. I pick up, offering my brother the usual greeting. “What’s up, asshole?”

  “Hey, douche. Just ringing to check in. How’s my little nephew?” Ky asks.

  “He’s great. Did you get the pic I sent last night?”

  “Oh, we did. Dude, Faye has a whole wall dedicated to Hewson in the kitchen. My cell was out of my hand before I even had time to look at it.” He chuckles.

  “Bro, someone sounds broody,” I tease.

  “Don’t fucking go there,” he warns, and I drop it. “You booked your flight yet?”

 
“Nope.” Stress undercuts my tone. Christmas is only a few weeks away, and I know I’m going to have to go home and tell the folks. The thought makes me want to submit for a full body waxing. It’d be less terrifying.

  “You can’t delay it any longer, Kal,” Ky says quietly. “You need to tell them.”

  “I know. How do you think they’ll react?”

  “They’ll be okay with it, bro. I’m sure they’ll be shocked at first, but they’ll be happy once the news has settled. You know how much Dad loves babies. He’ll be all over Hewson like a rash.” He pauses for a second. “Are you planning on bringing Lana and the baby with you?”

  “No.” Lana’s going to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Greta and John. A family unit has become available on campus, and she’s moving in there with Hewson in January, so this’ll be her last opportunity to be with her family before everything changes. There’s no need for her parents to live separately any longer, so Greta is moving to Connecticut full-time. Everything is starting to fall into place.

  “That’s too bad,” Ky says. “It’d be good to see them. I’m not sure how I’m going to break the news to Faye. She’ll be devastated. She can’t wait to hold Hewson in her arms.”

  “You’re so screwed, bro.” I prefer to joke than face the truth. He mumbles something incoherent. “When everything’s out in the open, she can fawn over Hewson as much as she likes. I’ll need all the help I can get when I bring him home.” A pang of sadness washes over me at the thought of going home without Lana.

  Just then, my phone pings with a text. It’s Riley. Strange. We’re not that close. But I know he’s still seeing Olivia, so I figure this must be something to do with Lana. A sudden panicky feeling causes all the air to rush out of my lungs. “Bro, I’ve got to go.”