“Tell me why you don’t like talking to me.” The abrupt topic change shook Oscar’s confidence, and he dropped his gaze from the corner of the ceiling to Dom’s face. “And don’t deny it. The truth is plain as day, every time we chat.”
“Well, maybe we talk too damn often, then.” He shifted in the chair, cushions too plush for his liking today. “I’d be good with once a quarter, Dom. I’m good, man.”
“What’s your definition of courage?”
Unsettled, he stared at Dom for a moment, then shook his head. Ignoring the man wouldn’t gain him anything, so he delivered the bare minimum to answer the question. “Doing what’s needed, no matter what.”
“Are you courageous?”
“What? Fuck, man. Where’s this going?” He leaned forwards, propping elbows on knees. “I’m just doin’ my job.”
“Were you doing your job when you pulled those men from a burning bunker?” Oscar froze, the remembered scent of explosives wafting past his nostrils, bitter and pungent. “Running into the open while the base was still under bombardment and going into a hole in the ground to try and save their lives?” The chair shook underneath him, vibrations from distant mortar round strikes rocking it back and forth. “That wasn’t your job. But you did it anyway.”
With effort Oscar pulled his gaze away from Dom’s face, ignoring the gentle concern in his expression. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“False. Out of nearly two dozen men, you were the first to move. Alone. When you pulled the first man out, you begged for help, and got it, from three more men. But it was you. If you hadn’t gone in when you did, every one of those men in the bunker would have died.” Something obscured Oscar’s vision, burning and watery. “I’ve listened to you for months now. Months where you dodged the reality of what happened, what it cost you. It’s time to face the music, Oscar. What happened and all that you saw, it marked you, just as much as if you’d been hit yourself.”
Ducking his head, his words were aimed at the floor. “I just did what was right. What anyone would have done.”
“Anyone with courage. Courage is doing what’s needed, even if you’re about to shit yourself with fear. That’s the definition of courage, and you are a goddamned hero, Oscar Mayhan.” Dom’s chair scooted closer, his hand landing on Oscar’s arm, holding fast, anchoring him. “Those medals you don’t like? They tell the truth. You just have to figure out a way to accept it.”
“Lindy… Man, she’s so brave.” Throat tight, he forced the words out. “Doesn’t matter what it is, she hits it head on. She’s the one with courage.”
“Let her share that with you, then. Whatever you two are doing in that house you used to hate is working, Oscar. If that’s you sharing her courage to face the dreams, then keep on keepin’ on. I like seein’ you without ghosts in your eyes, and I’m proud of the work you’ve done. But—” Dom drew a deep breath. “You gotta tell her what she’s helping you with. Give that to her. From what I’ve seen, she’s strong enough to hold it for your sake.”
Oscar admitted something to Dom he’d been trying to ignore. “I like her, Dominic. I like her a lot.”
“There’s a lot there to like.” Now the counselor’s voice sounded amused, and Oscar glanced at him to see a tiny smile on his lips. “Let’s explore that next week, shall we?”
“Fuck you.” Oscar’s laugh was weak, but it was there. “I won’t be exploring that with you anytime soon.”
Chapter Seven
Oscar
“I got him.” He pushed up from the recliner, a piece of furniture that had seen more use in the past five months than in the two years previous. Chris was snuffling himself awake, the sounds from the baby monitor sweet and soft, slowly gaining volume in a way that Oscar knew if the boy continued down that path, he’d be wide awake and yelling for attention in a couple of minutes.
Glancing to where Lindy was seated at the desk he’d moved into the living room, he noted her posture—bent over her sketchbook, arm moving swiftly as she drew out whatever was in her head, concentrating. “Back in a minute,” he called, and she nodded, then lifted her gaze to him, and he felt that look in his gut, something that had been happening more and more often.
“Thank you, Oscar. I’m nearly done. Just a couple of minutes and I’ll be in to nurse him.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “He sounds hungry.”
“You get set up on the couch. I’ll bring him to you,” Oscar bartered, gaze on her mouth, because that smile did it for him every fucking time. “We’ll watch something.”
When he was here while she was working, he kept the TV off. Not at her request, but he’d noted how it jacked with her attention to have a show playing in the background. He’d wanted to put the desk in the guest bedroom, give her a private place to work, but she said she’d already kicked him out of one room in his house, and taking over another didn’t seem right. He’d tried to argue, but she’d given him that crooked smile and a “please” and he’d been a goner. He’d stuck to his guns about one thing, refusing to put her office setup in the bedroom she shared with Chris, instead making room here in the living room. After thinking about it, he realized it guaranteed him seeing more of her, and while he’d pushed that ulterior motive to the back of his mind, it was there.
Swinging through the door and into the bedroom, he schooled himself to look away from the nightgown tossed over the foot of her bed. Still, it burned into his brain, like it always did. Something Dana had bought Lindy as a present, it was silky and a soft baby-blue color he knew looked good on her, the bodice and hem ruffled. Instead, he focused on the crib, where Chris had rolled to his stomach, glaring at Oscar through the bars that kept him secure, his sleepy head wobbling back and forth. “Ah,” he yelled, mouth open wide. “Gah.”
“I got you, kiddo.” Oscar soothed Chris with a touch, ending with a soft caress of his head, still covered with its dark cap of thick hair so much like his mother. “I got you.” An expert baby wrangler now, the baby whisperer his brothers still called him, Oscar scooped the boy up and set him to his shoulder, still stroking up and down his back. “There, now. How’s that?” Fist curled into Oscar’s tee, Chris cuddled close, and Oscar loved how that always made him feel. This moment was why he argued for the chance to get Chris up after a nap. “Sleepy baby snuggles are the best.” The boy made a quiet sound, and Oscar chuckled, taking it as agreement. “Yeah, you know it, kid.” He moved to the changing table, out of experience keeping a hand on the boy as he gathered things necessary for a fresh diaper. By the end, Chris’ demands had grown louder, muffled by the way he chewed on his fists between impatient shouts. “Come on, boy, let’s go find Momma.”
He heard, “Momma’s right here,” and turned to see Lindy leaning against the doorframe. “My boys were taking a while, so I thought I’d check on them.”
Oscar tried not to react to her calling him one of her boys, throwing a barrier around that feeling, fencing it securely in a way she’d never know what it meant.
He was a goner for her, he knew. It hadn’t taken long. Hell, I was half in love with her by the time she came home from the hospital. But seeing her with Chris, with Oscar’s friends, watching her blossom under their attention and affection, laughing with the girls, listening somberly to the stories his brothers told—it had all uncovered a strength and sweetness inside her that he’d found himself drawn to, fighting all the way.
“Chris…” He nuzzled gently into the boy’s neck, making him giggle softly at how his whiskers tickled. “Momma’s keepin’ tabs on us, son.” He nuzzled again, getting a head bobble that ended with a face-plant, Chris tucked tight to his chest, fist wrapped up in Oscar’s shirt. “Come on, let’s get you fed.”
Lindy looked up at him, expression soft, that damned crooked smile in place, and asked, “You want me to take him?”
Oscar shook his head, then gave her a chin lift she took as instruction, turning and walking down the hallway in front of him. All of which gave him a g
orgeous view to keep in his mind, her hair, body, ass, and sway already enough to keep him up at night, but he didn’t mind taking it all in one more time.
“I finished my preliminary ideas for the Mayhan Bucklers fundraiser campaign,” she called over her shoulder, head turned just enough he got a flash from her eyes. “You think Kirby would want to see it soon?”
“I think if he knew you had something to look at, he’d make time for you right now. Want me to call him?” He wasn’t kidding, either. He and Kirby had taken one gander at the work she’d done for the city and realized they had exactly what they needed in Lindy with her unique way of looking at things. She was artistic, sure, but it was more than that. Even to Oscar’s untrained eye, her work was inspired in a way that made it clear this was her calling, not just a job. “This for the charity run?” He got another flash of her eyes and a nod, this coming with a sideways grin. Her growing confidence was good to see, and he chuckled when he asked, “He’s gonna love it, isn’t he?”
“I hope so. I really, really like what I’ve put together, but the vision has to match what you guys see for the club.” She swung around the end of the couch and sat, settling into position by leaning against the corner cushions. Chris recognized the process and had his head up and watching, starting to yell in earnest. Oscar jostled his arms to distract the boy and watched her from the corner of his eye. She executed the familiar movements to tug at her top and adjust her underthings, and Oscar saw her stretch her arms up for Chris. As he always did, he tried to focus on her face as he handed over the baby, watching the smile he claimed as his appear, cheeks lifting and face growing soft as she looked at her son. “Hey, baby boy. Did you have a good nap?”
Oscar straightened, going to his recliner, where he elevated the footrest and grabbed the remote. “Whatcha wanna watch? Cooking show or that yard one you like?” He flipped on the TV and automatically adjusted the volume down, keeping it quiet to not distract Chris from what he was doing. “Somethin’ else today?”
“What do you want to watch?” Lindy’s tone was soft, nearly crooning as she settled Chris.
He didn’t turn away from the TV, staring straight ahead. If he saw, he’d want, and with her only feet away, she’d see. He couldn’t risk ruining the friendship they’d built through the weeks and months.
Her voice was still soft as she called his name like a question, “Oscar?”
“What?” Thumb to the channel button on the remote, he scrolled up through the numbers. “This one’s about backyard playgrounds.”
“If we weren’t here—”
That terrifying statement got his attention, and he looked at her, feeling struck dumb by the beauty he saw.
Lindy was gorgeous, so pretty, and getting more beautiful every day. Chris’ dark head cradled to her bare breast was the essence of womanhood, something to be cherished. Him being here, sitting so close while she nursed Chris, made this an intimate moment without having a hint of eroticism. For Oscar, knowing she was nourishing her son, feeding him, keeping him safe and protected in every way, turned it into an act of love. He loved seeing her, being around her, having her and the baby in the house. She can’t leave. Her words had struck a chord of fear deep inside him. If they weren’t here... Oscar couldn’t imagine a world where he existed without Lindy and Chris.
“What do you mean?” Chris jolted at his barked question. Lindy soothed him with a hand smoothing over the curve of his head, gaze locked on Oscar. He toned it down before he repeated his question, surprised at the confusion on her face. “What do you mean, if you weren’t here?”
Understanding dawned, and she dipped her chin, speaking to the top of Chris’ head. “I meant to ask what would you watch on TV if we were in our room?” They were both silent for a moment, the muffled sound of some random TV show rolling in the background. “Oscar?” Her voice was low, and it trembled the slightest bit. She didn’t look up as she asked, “Is it… Are you ready for us to move out?”
“What? No. Fuck no.” His reaction was immediate and earned him her eyes. She cut her gaze up from under a fall of hair, studying him cautiously. “I’ll say it straight out. I don’t want you to think about leaving. That’s what tweaked me.” He pushed against the footrest, settling into an upright position, hands on the arms of his chair. “I do not want you to leave, and you can place bets on that, because it’s a sure winner.”
“I just don’t want to overstay my welcome. And you do so much for us.”
He didn’t do as much for her as he wanted to, but she’d drawn some very clear lines in the beginning. If it was about Chris, she’d accept without grousing too much. Anything for her son, just like a good momma should. When he’d tried to do for her, she wouldn’t throw it back in his face, but he’d learned the idea of being a charity case dug deep and hurt her, so he’d stopped. She wanted to earn her way, so he’d set about to do what he could to give her every opportunity for just that. After some trial and error, how he gave to her was watching Chris while she worked or took a meeting, which was no hardship. Or telling her about a conversation he’d overheard at a Chamber meeting, stepping back and watching as she made the contact, set up appointments, and won business through her talent and personality. She didn’t need him, and he wasn’t shy about making sure she knew it. But leaving him alone in this house? It’d kill me.
“I strike you as a man who’d put up with something in my space I didn’t want?” Her head moved back and forth, slow to complete the arc. “You think I’m gonna push to have something if I didn’t think it was worth it?” Her hand moved over Chris’ head in a gentle caress, and she stared at him. “You’ve seen me with folks when I’m tryin’ to get them to see the error of their ways, yeah?” No response, but he knew the answer. “Yeah, you have. You watched me talk Nathan into going for that new prosthesis trial, and you were on hand when Dana and I went head-to-head about her direction on expanding the foundation. I make any bones about what I thought with either of them?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No buts about it, honey.” Her face changed subtly at his slip, but he didn’t have time to pursue whatever it was. “If I didn’t want you and my boy here”—another change, this one more profound, as if she’d been struck a blow she liked—“then we’d have a conversation where I led you there gently, but I’d lead you there. This isn’t you being in my space. It’s about my space being filled in a good way by the two of you. Meeting you was the best thing to happen to me in a long, long time. Don’t take that away from me.” He tried to unclench his fingers from the arms of the chair, but until she gave him an indication she’d heard and understood, he couldn’t relax an inch. “I don’t know how I can be any clearer, Lindy. Don’t think you’re a burden, because havin’ you and Chris here is so far from that it’s not even in the same galaxy. It’s like there’s this whole universe I’d never even seen, filled with wonder. That’s you and our boy. You can’t take that away. I need the two of you.”
Chris was fussing, pressing deep, then pummeling her with his tiny baby fists, and Oscar lost Lindy’s gaze when she looked down at the baby. She was still for a moment, then slid him away from her body to adjust her clothing, exposing her other breast as she prepared to shift him around. “Oscar.”
“Yeah…Lindy?” He had to catch himself as he did a hundred times a day, needing to call her honey or baby, sweetheart, anything to lay claim to her in the way he wanted. Mine.
“My back’s aching.” Before she finished, he was up and moving towards her. Lindy hitched herself sideways on the couch, making room for him to squeeze in behind her, and he did, shoving himself into the cushions, leaving enough space to use one hand to rub her back. “Thank you,” she whispered, slumping a little.
“Any time.” They sat like that for a few minutes, sounds of Chris nursing soft and so sweet it made Oscar smile.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said quietly, and he closed his eyes in relief. “You… Oscar, you’re my best friend.”
Friend wasn’t close to what he wanted, but he’d take what he could get. “Then don’t go anywhere.” He kept up the massage on her lower back as she half turned to face him. “Stay.” Lindy looked up, and he saw her lashes were clumped with tears. “Hey now. No cryin’.” Oscar curled his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in to lean against him. “No tears. You wanna be here, and I want that, too. More than you know. It’s all copasetic, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she muttered against his shoulder, sounding subdued, and he dipped his chin to look at her. Chris’ hand rested against his mother’s breast, mouth and jaw working as he suckled, and the exposed slope of flesh from her cheek to throat to breast was exquisite in a way that Oscar knew he’d never known beauty until this woman came into his life.
“Lindy.”
She glanced up, and her lips parted as she breathed, “Yeah?” There was trust in her gaze, but something else, too. A longing that resonated inside him. A need he suddenly understood.
Oscar angled down, his gaze fixed on those full lips, and she lifted up to meet him in the middle. This first kiss was soft, slow, an exploration he’d wanted to do for months, and when her tongue touched his mouth, he groaned, arm tightening around her shoulder. It was sweet and gentle, and everything he’d anticipated kissing Lindy would be. Lost in the moment, caught up in a dream come true, he took it deeper, and she turned it hotter when she moaned until it was everything he could do to dial it back, cognizant of where they were and what she was doing. Precious cargo in her arms, and he wanted to hold the two of them forever. Oscar broke the kiss off with effort, lifted a hand, and stroked the soft skin of her cheek. She looked dazed, and he waited a beat before telling her his dearest wish. “Stay.”
***
“Totally a move.” Lindy grazed the underside of Oscar’s jaw with her lips, and he felt her mouth move in what had to be a smile as she teased him.
It had been a week since that first kiss, and it had been followed by many more. They were again on the couch, TV playing softly in the background, and Oscar had wedged himself into the corner, Lindy leaning against his chest. Arms around her, this had become his favorite position and piece of furniture in the house. In the past seven days, his recliner was gathering dust whenever she was in the house, on the chance she’d want to come and snuggle with him. Her work, club business, and the requirements of caring for a young infant meant they hadn’t gone any faster than necking like teenagers. He’d take her any way he could get her and hadn’t made any bones about it when she’d tried apologizing. Her playful like this? I’ll take it all day long.
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