by Amy Aislin
Grey scowled playfully over his shoulder at his husband and kicked out a leg to hit him in the shin. “What do you need?” he asked Tay.
“Someone to . . .” Tay sucked in a deep breath. “Look over a comic book I’m writing,” he blurted on a whoosh of air. “For typos and wayward commas and whatnot.”
That got Dean roaring again.
Planting his elbows on the island, Grey brandished the paring knife in Tay’s direction. “I’ll say this once, and if you ever repeat it, I’ll deny it with my dying breath, got it?”
“Uh . . .”
“I almost failed creative writing in college.”
It took Tay a second to parse through that. “Who fails creative writing?”
Grey threw his hands up. “Math geniuses, okay? This guy—” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “—was my tutor. Had to hold my hand through the whole stupid course. He’s the guy you want to look over written words.”
Right. Dean had published a non-fiction book. Tay had seen it on the coffee table in the family room: No Guts, No Glory by Alex Dean. Of course, he was the better choice for looking over Tay’s stuff. Tay’s sleep-deprived brain was throwing him for a loop. What day was it even?
Grey kicked a leg out behind him again, but his lips were smiling. “You can stop laughing now.”
Wrapping a muscular arm around Grey’s shoulders from behind, Dean kissed the top of his husband’s head in silent apology. “I’m happy to read your comic, Tay. You can tell me more about it while we eat. But first, go get ready.”
Tay flew upstairs to change and grab his gear, grinning the whole way.
It was snowing as Dakota walked Andy home from preschool, the sort of large, thick flakes that drifted lazily from the sky. Already, kids were building snowmen and snow forts in their front yards.
Andy kicked the snow in his path, giggling madly, his little gloved hand in Dakota’s.
“How was school today?”
“We went to the park, Daddy, an’ I went down the slide with Hayden and Ava.”
“Was it snowing when you went to the park?”
Andy shook his head. It hadn’t been snowing when Dakota had met Tay for coffee after lunch either, but when he’d left work at four, it had been coming down pretty heavily. It was supposed to be above zero tomorrow, though; hopefully this was the last snowfall of the year. Maybe he wouldn’t even have to shovel. He could just let it melt.
Now there was a novel idea.
“We had grilled cheeses an’ soup for lunch,” Andy was saying. “An’ crackers with butter. An’ then we did puzzles, but only little ones. Not like the castle.”
“The castle you’re doing with Tay?”
“Mm-hmm.” He crouched to pick up a small fistful of snow. “I put a piece in Tay’s backpack. D’you think he found it?”
“When did you do that?”
“When we went to the zoo.”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“’Kay.” A pause, then, “Can I do that now?”
Dakota chuckled. “How about when we get home?” He figured a certain someone wasn’t too far behind them.
“Okay, but I wanna do the video on your phone.”
“Sure.” Sucking in a deep breath of cold air, Dakota said, “You like Tay, right?”
“Mm-hmm. He’s nice. An’ he talks to me like you do.”
His brow scrunched. “What does that mean?”
“He doesn’t make stupid baby noises like Mom.”
Ah. Tay spoke to Andy like he was a mini adult then. Yeah, Dakota had noticed that too. He took Andy’s thoughts and opinions seriously and didn’t dismiss him just because of his young age.
It was amazing that Andy remembered anything about his mom at this point; it’d been months since they’d seen each other. Fiona hadn’t even tried to schedule another dinner after the one she’d had to cancel last month, and Andy hadn’t asked about her. Not that Dakota had initiated anything either. She wanted to be hands-off; he was taking her at her word.
“You’d be okay with seeing Tay more often, then?”
“Yeah.” Throwing his fistful of snow into the air, Andy stood under it and tried to catch clumps in his mouth. “’Cause he’s my friend. Can we have a sleepover, Dad? Like I do with Uncle Calder?”
If it wasn’t so cold, Dakota’s heart would’ve melted. “I think Tay would like that, but why don’t you ask him?”
“Imma ask when we video call.”
“Okay.” God. Andy kept sidetracking him, and he still hadn’t said what he’d been gearing himself up to all day. “The thing is, you will be seeing more of Tay.”
“I will? Is he moving in?”
“Uh.” Dakota coughed. “No.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead. The farthest he’d gotten was September, when Tay would be back in hockey mode, which would suck after spending the whole summer together. However, even there he was getting ahead of himself.
But he couldn’t help it. What he felt for Tay had him planning for the future. Was that such a bad thing? No. It was fast, though. But at this point, he couldn’t have put the reins on if he wanted to.
And he didn’t want to.
Okay, focus.
“You know how your Uncle Owen and Uncle Kas are boyfriends?”
“Uh-huh.” Andy bounced from one foot to the other.
“Do you know what that means?”
“Means they have a house together an’ live in the same bedroom an’ make kissy faces.”
“Right.” Sometimes the simple logic of a child made so much more sense than adult bullshit. “Well, Tay and I are boyfriends too.”
Andy tilted his frowning face up. “But you don’t have a house together or live in the same bedroom.”
Dakota waited for the kissy-face part. And then he waited some more. And then they were turning onto his street; he was still waiting.
So. Andy had caught on to something. Was it good or bad that he hadn’t said anything?
“That’s true, but Tay and I are new boyfriends. We’re not moving in together yet.”
“But you’re still boyfriends?”
“Yes.”
“Boyfriends don’t always live together?”
Dakota squeezed his hand. “Not always.”
“But they always make kissy faces,” Andy said with a sage nod.
Dakota laughed, drawing the attention of the man leaning against the back of his SUV in Dakota’s driveway.
“Can Tay be my boyfriend too?”
Screw the cold weather, Dakota’s heart was mush at his son’s feet. “I don’t think so, buddy, but he can be your friend. In fact, he came to visit you today. See?” He pointed, and Andy’s face lit up.
“Tay!” Andy went skipping down the sidewalk, arms straight out like an airplane. He plowed into Tay’s knees at full speed. “Hi, Tay. Did you come to finish the castle?”
Finish the castle, ha! That castle would take way more than one night.
Arms around Andy’s shoulders, Tay met Dakota’s gaze with a toothy grin as he walked up. “Actually, I was thinking we could build a snowman.”
“Yes!” Bouncing over to the yard, Andy gathered a little ball of snow in his gloved hands. “An’ a boyfriend for the snowman.”
Eyebrows shooting up, Tay turned to Dakota. “You told him.”
“About ten seconds ago. He says boyfriends don’t have to live together but they always make kissy faces.” Speaking of kissy faces . . . Dakota brushed a small kiss on Tay’s cold lips. “Hi.”
The grin that graced Tay’s face was nothing short of awed. “Hi.”
“Shit.” Horror catching him in the chest, Dakota took a huge step back. “Shit. I shouldn’t have done that.” They were in public, right out in the open on his driveway. “I’m sorry.”
Tay merely grabbed him by the front of his coat, yanked him closer, and planted his lips on his.
“Mm.” Dakota leaned their foreheads together. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Please.” With an eye roll, Tay stepped back. “No one’s expecting to see a hockey player smooching his boyfriend on a snowy driveway in High Park.”
Andy ran over, barreling between them. “Me too. Kissy faces for me too.”
Picking him up, Dakota threw him over his shoulder and tickled him through his dinosaur-patterned coat. “I’ll give you kissy faces.” He pretended to eat Andy’s neck, making him squeal loudly.
“Tay, save me!”
Tay struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other extended in front of him as though he was holding a sword. “Unhand him, you scoundrel!”
“Yeah, you scoundrel,” Andy said, laughing hysterically. “Unhand me.”
Tay tackled them, and they all fell into a snowbank, snow puffing up around them, Dakota’s back protesting after having spent the night sleeping on the couch. Andy scrambled up, getting Dakota in the chest with a knee—
“Ow.”
—and Tay in the shoulder with a foot.
“Oof.”
“Daddy, we need carrots an’ buttons for the snow boyfriends.”
It was amazing how quickly a kid’s mind could go from one topic to another.
“Snow boyfriends,” Tay repeated with a snicker as Andy went back to rolling his snowball.
Still in the snow, his neck getting wetter and colder by the second, Dakota turned to peer at Tay. “I’ll order dinner while I’m inside. What do you feel like?”
Tay pressed his lips together. “Sushi.”
Dakota grimaced. “’Kay. What do you feel like that my kid will actually eat?” And me. Sushi was up there with squishy seafood on Dakota’s hard-no list of foods.
Laughter as bright as the snow, Tay kissed his cheek and bounced up with as much energy and enthusiasm as Andy. “Surprise me,” he said and joined Andy in the snowman building.
Jesus. The exuberance of youth. Tay’s rivaled Andy’s. Dakota had no idea how he was going to keep up with them both.
But he couldn’t wait to try.
Tay lifted their newly rolled snowball and dropped it on the larger bottom half of their snowman. Behind him, Andy started a third snowball for their second snowman.
“Why boyfriends?” Tay asked.
“’Cause you an’ Daddy.”
“Shouldn’t we make a little Andy too?”
Andy’s chuckle was infectious. “Yeah. Like a family.”
The word shouldn’t have made Tay grin so wide his face hurt. Shouldn’t have made his heart skip a beat. Shouldn’t have made him feel all floaty. He was a twenty-three-year-old professional athlete. He should’ve been looking forward to drinks with his teammates or anticipating tomorrow’s game or getting an evening workout in or studying tape. Not spending time with his boyfriend and his son.
But he didn’t want to be anywhere else. He liked how Dakota made him slow down, take things one step at a time. If it wasn’t for him talking Tay down last night, he would’ve been on campus right after morning skate today, talking to the paramedicine program coordinator about dropping out of the rest of the semester and getting a refund for the classes he’d already signed up for this summer.
As it was, he might as well finish the semester; there were only a few weeks left. Didn’t matter how much the practicals made him break out in a cold sweat just thinking about them, quitting now wouldn’t make sense.
He was definitely getting a refund on his summer classes, though. Dakota was right—nothing said he had to graduate in four years. In fact, he’d looked it up today—he had seven years from the day he’d started to complete the four-year program. Simply knowing that he was hitting pause until he worked out whether or not this was what he really wanted took a huge weight off his shoulders.
His gloves were soaked through by the time they finished their second snowman, and the sun had slipped below the horizon, casting shadows along the quiet street. Snow still fell gently, and the sounds of laughing children and shovels hitting pavement reached them from farther down the road.
How long did it take to order dinner? They were going to be done by the time Dakota came back out.
“Andy?”
The foreign voice had him glancing at a woman standing next to a car parked at the curb. Snow fell onto wavy, chin-length hair almost as dark as Andy’s, and she wore a candy-apple-red wool coat over dress pants and heeled boots that were massively impractical for this weather.
Just come from the office?
Andy latched on to Tay’s leg. “Mommy?”
Mommy? As in Dakota’s ex?
Her gaze settled on Tay and narrowed. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” he shot back, concerned about the death grip Andy had on his leg. He settled an arm around Andy’s shoulders.
“That’s my mom,” Andy said, but he didn’t go greet her.
She shoved her bare hands into her pockets, glancing at the front door. “Where’s you dad, kiddo?”
For reasons Tay couldn’t name, he didn’t want her in the house. And he certainly didn’t want her going in without giving Dakota a heads-up. “Why don’t you go get your dad, little man?”
Andy ran across the lawn, squeezed between a couple of knee-high bushes lining the walkway, shot up the stairs, and burst into the house at full speed in typical Andy fashion.
Tay removed a glove and held out a hand. “I’m Tay.”
“Fiona.”
With nothing else to say, they stood awkwardly in the snow and waited for Dakota.
Dakota had ordered dinner, fished a couple of carrots out of the fridge, and was hunting down his box of wayward buttons in the den when Andy threw the door open. It smacked against the wall as Andy ran into the house without removing his boots, trailing water and snow across the floorboards all the way to the kitchen.
“Hey.” Dakota poked his head out of the den. “What’s the rule about shoes in the house?”
Andy reversed course, heading for him instead, his little brow scrunched, eyes as big as his face.
Dropping the carrots on the desk, Dakota held his arms out and caught Andy as he launched himself at him. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
“Mommy’s here,” Andy said, nose buried in Dakota’s neck.
“What? Where?”
“Outside.” Wiggling down, Andy stood at the front door and pointed. “See?”
Sure enough, Fiona stood on the sidewalk, shoulders hunched up to her ears against the cold. Tay was several feet away next to a couple of lopsided snowmen. They both turned to him, Tay with a concerned blink at Andy, Fiona with her brows lowered.
“Fi.”
She came up the walkway. “Can we talk?”
“Hey, Andy,” Tay said. “Want to bring the carrots and we can finish the snowmen?”
Dakota shot him a strained smile in thanks over Andy’s head.
Once the door was closed behind Andy, he crossed his arms and leaned against the closet door. “What are you doing here, Fiona? You’re supposed to call first.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She sat on the bench and removed her fancy leather boots. “It was a last-minute thing. I took a detour on my way home.”
She lived in Hamilton, a good two-hour drive west in rush hour traffic, meaning she must’ve had a meeting downtown today.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Shedding her coat, she hung it on the seldom-used wall pegs above the bench. “But I needed to talk to you, and this was better said in person.”
Dakota grabbed a couple of towels while she took a seat at the dining room table, and he pushed them around with his foot to wipe Andy’s mess off the floor.
“Who’s the twelve-year-old outside?” Fiona asked, crossing one pant-suited leg over the other.
Ignoring her jibe about Tay, Dakota followed Andy’s trail from the dining room to the foyer. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. It made Andy anxious when she showed up unannounced, and right now Dakota wanted to leave Fiona sitting there so he could hug his kid close. “Yo
u’re giving both Andy and me mixed signals, you know. You don’t want to raise him, but you want to be part of his life, yet you haven’t made an effort to see him in months. And now you show up without warning. Do you want to be part of his life or not?” Bundling the wet towels, he tossed them into the kitchen sink with a little too much force, making a wet splat. “It doesn’t seem like you do.”
“I thought I did,” Fiona said, one foot bouncing. “I thought it’d be easier once he was older and could talk. When he could tell me what he wanted instead of crying for two hours straight until I understood what was wrong. Anyway.” She waved a hand. “That’s not why I came.”
Propped up against the kitchen doorway, Dakota crossed his arms and waited, a fist of anxiety balled in his throat.
“I got a new job. In Vancouver.”
Relief sunk his shoulders and he blew out a harsh breath. Despite her earlier words, he’d half expected her to petition him for custody or something equally outlandish. Not that he was happy about her new job. How was he supposed to tell Andy that his mom was moving four thousand kilometers away?
“Before you say it,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’ll tell Andy myself. I know you like me to own up to my failures as a mother.”
Harsh. “I don’t think you’re a failure, Fi.” Sitting next to her, he rested his elbows on his knees, remembering a time when he had so much love and affection for her. He still recalled the way she’d cried happy tears when he’d proposed. The way she’d giggled as he’d carried her over the threshold of their first house. How painstakingly she’d decorated Andy’s nursery before he was born. The love was gone, but he still felt a certain fondness in a corner of his heart for the woman she used to be and the life they’d planned together before getting married. “We have different priorities. There’s nothing wrong with that except . . .”
“Except that Andy doesn’t get the brunt of mine.” She nodded. “Guess it would’ve been better had I figured out I didn’t want to be a mom before we were married, huh? You were made to be a father, Dakota, but I don’t have the parenting gene in me.”
Dakota shook his head. “I don’t have any regrets. I wouldn’t trade Andy for anything. And I’ll tell him you’re leaving. It’ll be better coming from me.” That way he could reassure Andy that he still had one parent who loved him and wasn’t going away. “When do you move?”
