Accidentally Family

by Sasha Summers

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nick eyed the hospital with dread. He’d spent the night heaving into his toilet until his eyes were going to pop out of his head and his ribs were in danger of cracking. All it would take was one more heave, he knew it.

  He’d have done it all again not to be here now.

  Not that she’d asked him. She knew better.

  He hadn’t had a choice. It took a lot to rattle his mother, a lot to threaten the supreme calm she brought to any situation. This morning, she’d spilled her coffee, dropped her purse, and said “shit.” With Honor missing in action and Aunt Charity in bed with some urinary tract infection thing, he was her only backup. Calling Granddad and Mimi would only add to the drama—thanks to him sneaking out the night before.

  No, he owed her, dammit. What he’d done last night was bad enough. But what he’d said to her… He was ashamed of himself. He’d put her through hell, and she’d given him nothing but love.

  To make this morning suck more, he was beginning to think he’d nailed his head with the sledgehammer the night before. Every single sound was magnified. His stomach was making horror-movie noises. And his tongue was too big for his mouth.

  Lesson learned. Next time he was on the verge of losing his shit, he’d call Owen. He’d rather have sore muscles from working out than a hangover that made death appealing.

  His mother paused in the hallway, catching his hand with hers. “Thank you again for coming, Nick. He doesn’t like me—at all.” Her smile was forced. “The only woman he doesn’t mind is Grams.”

  Great. He’d heard all about how the kid cried nonstop. Charity said he’d gotten so red a few times that she worried his head would explode. “She can have him.”

  His mother laughed. “Nick.”

  “It’s an option.” He was teasing. Partly.

  But part of him, a pretty big part of him, still hoped someone from Amber’s family would turn up to take the kid away. Far, far away. Any minute now.

  No matter what Honor said, Jack wasn’t family. He wasn’t supposed to be a permanent fixture in his life. Jack was Dad’s. The one time he’d seen the kid, asleep and tiny in the hospital bed, had been hard enough. There were baby pictures of him and Honor all over the house. This kid looked like them. He looked like the pictures of their dad when he was a baby. Seeing him made it hard to deny—somehow—that they were connected.

  It had to get to his mom, too. It had to.

  That’s why he was here. For her.

  Not Jack. The kid was going to live with them because it was the right fucking thing to do. And a nightmare. No one wanted this. No one wanted him. It was sad but true. Nick rolled his head, doing his best not to panic when they climbed in the elevator, pressed the button, and waited.

  “I’m going to have to take notes on how to care for his cast. It’s a beast.” His mother was chewing on her bottom lip. “Poor thing hates it.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he mumbled.

  She sighed. “We’re all going to have to be patient with him, Nick. It’s not going to be an easy transition. For any of us.”

  “No? Really?” He closed his eyes—not thinking about the last time he was in this elevator. The last time he saw his father.

  She shook her head.

  “Sounds like he’s a happy-go-lucky kinda kid.” He rocked on his feet, anxious to get this over with. Not that it was going to be over. They were taking the kid home with them. Forever. His head pounded.

  “Maybe he is. Right now, he’s scared and hurt and lonely. With limited vocabulary.” She shook her head. “His mother and his father disappeared, Nick. Can you imagine?”

  He’d lived it. Older, maybe—but he was pretty sure knowing your father willingly deserted you was worse than what the kid was going through. “Sort of, yeah,” he reminded her.

  “You do. Of course you do. I didn’t mean it like that.” She took his hand and squeezed. “Besides, you’re stuck with me.”

  “He’s got you now, too.” He tried hard to sound like it didn’t bother him. But it did.

  Her hand squeezed again.

  The elevator doors opened, and Nick winced at the screams coming from somewhere on the floor. “Please tell me that’s not him.”

  “That’s him.” With a deep breath, she set off down the hall, head held high, determination in each step. His mother was a woman on a mission. A real-life fricking superhero.

  He was a suck-tastic sidekick, hanging back and useless. When they got to the door, his mother went right in. He stood outside, where he could see everything that was happening but no one inside could see him.

  He didn’t give the old lady knitting a second look.

  But the little boy—Jack—he couldn’t look away.

  His chest hurt, instant pressure clamping down on his lungs and heart.

  Jack wasn’t a kid.

  He was a baby, pudgy and pathetic. Tears streamed down his red cheeks, making the pressure harder to bear. His white-blond curls shook with his hiccups. And he wiggled, trying to get away from the large blue cast swallowing him up at the waist. It covered his entire right leg, part of his left leg, and had some handle-looking bar running between his legs. A major pain in the ass. Jack turned away from his mother when she smiled at him, closing his eyes and sobbing into the blanket he gripped tight in both fists.

  Maybe Nick was wrong. Maybe he was lucky.

  He understood his father was gone and wasn’t coming back. Jack didn’t. He’d had a mom and a dad. Now they were…missing. He was too little to ask questions or understand what was happening.

  Jack was…alone. Completely alone.

  It hurt to breathe now, physically hurt.

  Mrs. Baker left, smiling at him, then waddled down the hallway to the elevator. Nick watched, tempted to escort the older woman to her car just to get away. But that was running away, and he wasn’t a runner—not when his mother needed him.

  “Hey, hey, Jack,” his mother crooned, doing her best to soothe the crying kid. “We’re getting out of here today. It’s going to be okay now.”

  Jack wasn’t listening. He covered his face with the corner of his blanket and fought the cast to turn away.

  Nick couldn’t take it. He walked into the hospital room and stood there, watching.

  “Is he in pain?” he asked.

  “What?” she asked, patting Jack’s hand.

  “Is he in pain?” he asked, louder this time.

  Jack stopped crying. He turned and stared, straight at Nick.

  Nick swallowed, eaten up with all the horrible things he’d thought and said. None of this was Jack’s fault. He was a baby. Just a baby—with no one and nothing.

  Jack tried to sit up, but the cast wouldn’t let him. With a grunt, he flopped back, still staring at Nick. “Da,” he said, reaching toward him with both hands. “Da,” he repeated, smiling at him like he was the best thing in the whole fucking world.

  Nick swallowed hard, his eyes burning and his chest hurting. How could he explain that their dad was gone? He wasn’t coming back.

  “Da.” Jack stretched, his little fingers wiggling.

  He didn’t remember moving. Didn’t remember crossing the room or sitting on the bed or leaning over him. He did remember hugging him. He felt the cling of Jack’s little arms around his neck and the softest brush of Jack’s curls against his cheek.

  “Da.” It was a sigh.

  “I got you, little bro.” He forced the words around the knot crushing his windpipe. “You hear me?”

  …

  Honor rolled over and stared at the sliver of light creeping through the blinds. Daylight. Not a streetlight. She sat up, staring around the dim interior of Owen’s bedroom.

  “You okay?” Owen lay on top of the blankets beside her.

  Oh God. She’d spent the night here. And now… She ran a
hand over her tangle of red curls. Bedhead, every morning. More like a rat’s nest. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” he asked, sitting up.

  She caught sight of the clock. “No. Dammit.” She hopped up.

  “What time were they going?” he asked, already knowing what she was worried about.

  “An hour ago.” She tugged on her jeans. “My mother is probably freaking out.”

  “Promise me you won’t get mad,” he interrupted.

  She paused. “I’m not promising anything.”

  “I texted Nick and got your mom’s cell number. I called her last night.” He stood, turning on the light. “I mean, with everything else…”

  “She’s been through enough without me adding to it?” she asked, not in the least bit angry with him. He was right.

  “Pissed?” he asked, his hands hovering by her shoulders, almost touching.

  She shook her head and buried her face against his chest. “No.”

  “Whew.” He chuckled, his hands running up and down her back. “Would kind of suck if you were. Since I love you and all.”

  Honor laughed, but her heart kicked up to record-speed. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “You’re so full of it.” Last night had started out with her raging, dumping everything on him—everything. From her father’s betrayal to her brother’s rebellion to being Jack’s legal guardian to her fear of leaving home. He’d held her close, asking questions but listening more than anything. When she was done and the tears started, he kept on holding her.

  She was the one who attacked him.

  And he was the one who shut her down—fast.

  “Am I? Why do you say that?” he asked, tilting her head back.

  “You know why.” She shrugged out of his hold. For the first time, she’d taken a risk, tried to shake off her inhibition. And he’d held her away from him. It was humiliating—and painful. She sat on the bed and slipped on her shoes, awash in embarrassment all over again.

  “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” he asked, crouching in front of her as she tied her tennis shoes. “Hey.” His hand grabbed hers and held it still. “Honor?”

  She tried to laugh it off. It came out like a croak. “I’m not good at this, okay? I’m pretty sure you’ve figured that out by now.” With a slight tug, she broke the contact. When he touched her, she short-circuited. “Let’s be honest. I don’t know how to do this. And last night, I didn’t come here thinking we’d… But then…” She stood, shoved her phone into her pocket, and reached for Amber’s keys.

  “Stop a sec, okay?” He blocked her path. “You came here because you needed someone to listen to you. You picked me.” His hand rested along the curve of her cheek, drawing her gaze up to his gorgeous face. “I want to be that guy for you. Not some creep wanting to get into your pants. That’s not what I want for us, okay?” He kissed her, a slow, gentle kiss. “I do love you. Since the day you smiled at me in English class, I’ve loved you.”

  It would be easier to laugh off if she didn’t want to believe what he said. And if he’d stop looking at her like that—like she mattered. Like maybe he did love her. “Are you serious?” Do I want to know? Because, no matter how hard she’d been fighting it since that day in the mall—no matter how many times she’d told herself she did not love him—she did. So much.

  He nodded, the tenderness on his face kicking up her heart rate. “I’m serious.” His forehead rested against hers. “But… I do want to get into your pants.”

  She laughed, breathless. “Next time, maybe.”

  “Maybe?” He groaned.

  She kissed him, sliding her arms around his neck and giving it all she had. In his arms, it was okay to let go. He’d seen her at her worst, sobbing and dripping and leaving wads of tissue all over his floor. Still, he loved her. And she loved him.

  He broke away. “Want me to drive?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  His smile faded.

  “But if you want to show up in thirty minutes or so?”

  “Twenty?” he asked, kissing her again. “Fifteen?”

  She broke away. “Long enough for me to take a shower. Tame this.” She pointed at her red hair.

  “Don’t tame it. I like it.” He opened his door and led her down the stairs. Owen’s dad was deployed, and his older brother was rarely home. For all intents and purposes, he lived on his own—and he kept the house immaculate. That had been a surprise. So had learning he took care of his elderly neighbor’s yard and her yappy little dog. Or that he’d learned how to work on cars because he didn’t have the money to pay someone to fix his. And, of course, his willingness to help her brother deal with everything he was dealing with. Then, last night. Not the cocky jock she’d pegged him for. But, until recently, she hadn’t given him the chance to prove otherwise. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

  “You got this,” he said, so matter-of-factly she almost believed him.

  With another kiss and wave, she climbed into Amber’s convertible and made the drive across town.

  She parked in the garage and headed inside, hoping it wasn’t too bad. But there wasn’t a temper tantrum taking place. If anything, it was quiet. She found Aunt Charity sitting at the kitchen table flipping through a travel magazine with a massive blueberry muffin in front of her. “Morning.”

  “Morning. Hungry? Your mom made some blueberry muffins.”

  “Are they home?” She shook her head. “Is everything okay?”

  “They’ve been home a while. I think they’re in the nursery.” Her brows rose. “Go see for yourself.”

  Honor frowned. “Bad?”

  “I’m not saying a thing.” She shooed her toward the door and turned back to the magazine she was reading.

  Honor headed straight for the nursery, expecting to hear Jack any second. Finding Nick lying beside Jack, reading a book about a poky puppy, was the last thing she’d expected.

  “Hi,” she said, leaning against the door.

  “Hey,” Nick said. “Jack, say hi to Honor.”

  “Hi,” Jack said, smiling.

  Honor stared back and forth between the two of them, in shock. “What did you do?” she asked, dropping to the carpet beside the toddler. “How did you get this little guy to smile? And to stop crying?”

  “I look like Dad.” His laugh was quick.

  “Da,” Jack agreed, putting his hand on Nick’s arm.

  Honor blinked, studying her brothers, her heart in her throat. Except for the eyes, Jack really was a younger version of Nick—and their father. Still, it couldn’t be easy for Nick, feeling the way he did about their dad. “You’re okay with that?”

  “We’re good.” Nick nodded. “You’re interrupting the story.”

  Jack patted the book, smiling at Nick with pure joy.

  Honor stared at the two of them, a comfortable warmth flooding her chest. Maybe things would be okay. Weird, yes. No denying it. But maybe—eventually—okay. “Sorry.” She laughed. “I’m going to take a shower.” But they were already reading again.

  “Amazing, right?” Her mother was waiting outside.

  “Is he really okay?” she asked, watching the two of them.

  “I can hear you,” Nick called out. “I’m fine. Go away. Make sure Aunt Charity doesn’t eat all the muffins.”

  “I made two dozen,” her mother argued.

  “Have you seen her eat?” Nick quipped.

  “There you go.” Her mother shrugged, her gaze a little too penetrating. “What about you?”

  “Can we talk in your room?” She led the way, not waiting for an answer. Once the door was closed, she jumped right in. “I’m not mad at you, Mom. I admit I was surprised, maybe even a little hurt that you didn’t tell me about the will… But I get it.” She hugged herself. “You’re my mom. You’ll always try to protect me. And Dad did w
hat he thought was best, I guess.”

  “I’m pretty sure he never thought it would happen, Honor.” Her mom reached for her.

  Honor wanted to believe her. She wanted to go on thinking the best of her father—especially now that he was gone. “Jack has no idea how lucky he is to have us.”

  Her mother nodded. “I think—I hope—it’s going to be okay.”

  “It will.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’m going to take a shower before Owen comes over.” And this time she wouldn’t spend thirty minutes trying to smooth her curls into submission.

  …

  Felicity rocked, smoothing Jack’s curls from his forehead and humming “All the Pretty Horses.” It had taken five days for him to accept his new surroundings. Nick was the key. Every day, the two of them grew closer. When Nick walked in, Jack lit up. And when Jack called him “Ni,” Nick was all smiles.

  Now his tantrums revolved around diaper changes, fatigue, and frustration over his damn cast. Felicity didn’t blame him in the least. But they had a couple of weeks before it was gone forever. Hopefully the bone had healed and that would be the end of it.

  Jack’s thumb slipped from his mouth as he drifted off to sleep. She stared down at him, tracing the curve of his cheeks with her fingertips. Honor was leaving in a few weeks. Nick only had two years of high school left. Then she’d be a single mom—of a pre-schooler. “We’re going to be okay, Jack. You know that?”

  His little mouth sucked in his sleep. She stood and carried him to his crib, taking extra-special care to ease the cast onto the mattress first.

  She stood over him, smoothing the blanket up and turning on his nightlight as she left.

  The house was quiet.

  Charity was having dinner with Maudie to finalize the handoff of the travel agency. Nick had gone with friends to a party at the lake and was spending the night at her parents’. This time, he promised, he really was spending the night at her parents’. And Honor was on a date with Owen.

  She was alone. And that meant there was nothing to distract her from missing Graham.

  Which meant she needed to find something to do. Immediately.