Chapter 14
CURTIS
My hand rested upon Eli’s head when my son, Logan, came crashing through. “Eli! We fucking did it!” he yelled.
“Aye!” I interjected. “Language, son.”
Before he could get away, I caught my boy, forcing him into a hug.
“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding apologetic at all.
“Hmm. I’ll let it slide this once. I’m proud of you, bug. You played well,” I said, pressing a kiss to his head.
“Eww,” he sputtered. “Let go, Dad. People are watching.”
“And why should I care?”
“Because I’m eleven years old now. You have to respect my—”
“That’s it,” I said, then I squeezed him tighter, ensuring he couldn’t escape before I attacked. Logan combusted into raucous laughter as I tickled him into hysterics.
When I was done, he sobered quickly, gaze caught on Eli, who was bent over, cackling.
“What? You think this is funny? See how you like it!”
Then he launched for Eli, tackling him to the ground.
Refusing to miss out, Phoenix struggled out of his mother’s arms to catapult on top of the wrestling boys.
It was messy, a social disaster… but it was us.
Stella and I watched on with a fondness and a certain ease that only came from familiarity.
Our boys were the third generation to make a solid connection between the Fosters and the Wrights. It wasn’t just friendship; we were family.
Just when their play fighting was close to turning into full-on brawling, Dylan stepped in and separated the two preteens.
“Let’s go for ice cream!”
They immediately ceased bickering and happily followed Eli’s grandpa to the ice cream truck, Phoenix toddling behind as he refused to be carried.
Stella and I were left alone, a silent comfort settling between us.
She was sporting a genuine grin, which I hadn’t seen in a long time.
I worried and thought of her often, but knew she processed things in her own way.
Still, whenever she needed a safe place to fall, I would be there, arms outstretched and ready to catch her, each and every time.
A cool breeze swept her golden hair in all directions, strands flying in front of her face, blocking her line of sight.
Caught by surprise, she giggled, and I couldn’t help but wish to hear that sound forever.
My hands moved of their own accord, wanting to feel those soft strands slipping through my fingers. Unable to resist my most basic instincts, I stepped in front of her as my palms helped smooth her hair back into place. Rookie error.
My mind went haywire with the feel of her beneath me.
Why does her hair have to feel so silky? Why so soft?
Hold on. Why are my fingertips now stroking against her scalp… And why does the strawberry smell of her shampoo cause heat to rise beneath my skin?
Shit.
I was caught in an endless sea of blue, her eyes boring into mine, refusing to let me go. I was ensnared, entirely too happy with the circumstances I’d found myself in.
Until a brisk voice cut through our shared moment. “Stella?”
Her orbs flashed with irritation before she stepped out of my embrace.
So the fucking weasel finally decided to show up. I wished he had stuck to his usual schedule and stayed the hell away.
Stella had had a great day and was sincerely happy, which I hadn’t sensed from her in weeks. I didn’t want his presence to wipe that away. I didn’t want him to steal her light in order to feed his depraved ego.
When Stella turned to Felix, her features had smoothed into neutral lines.
“You came,” she said, her tone making the connotation blatantly clear. Why’d you bother?
His cold gaze flicked to me before he laid his attention solely on her.
Blank me all you want, asshole. I’m not going anywhere.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I missed the—”
“I’m not the one you have to apologise to.
” Stella tilted her head. “What’s so important that you missed every single game, Felix?
You couldn’t even make five minutes of his final?
What’s so interesting at work to have you neglecting your family, huh?
” She finished, anger lacing her voice. I could sense she was on the edge, about to implode.
Too early, baby.
Inconspicuously, I skimmed my fingertips against the back of her arm—a subtle impression to ground her, to tell her I was there if she needed me. I’ll always be here.
Felix didn’t catch it, his liar eyes scouring the dirt instead. I didn’t know what he was searching for. Maybe his lost dignity?
A high-pitched squeal broke through the tension, followed by Stella’s boisterous toddler, who ran straight for us, chocolate ice cream smeared all over his front.
Felix was closest, crouching to receive his son. “How are you, bud? I’ve missed you.”
What happened next nearly had me fainting with giddiness.
Ignoring his father completely, Phoenix ran straight past him and headfirst into my legs. You genius boy! Without missing a beat, I lifted him high, tickling him until he was screaming in laughter.
Felix gradually stood upright, all stiff, no doubt adjusting to that brutal blow to the heart. Why did he expect any different when he gives them fuck all?
Furthering my theory, Felix called out to Eli, who was in deep debate with Logan about some gaming console.
Eli barely spared a glance. “Oh, Dad, you came. Did you see my…”
By his face alone, everyone knew Felix didn’t see shit. And that was enough confirmation for Eli.
Refusing to take the loss, Felix stepped forward. “I want to take you out for pasta, Eli. Eat at your favourite Italian restaurant to celebrate.”
Eli’s lips pursed. Even I knew that wasn’t his favourite anymore.
“Ehh,” he hesitated. “I’m going back to Logan’s to play his new game.”
Well, that was news to me, but I wasn’t going to say no if he wanted to seek refuge at mine.
“We’re leaving in five, boys,” I said. “We’ll grab pizza from Riley’s on the way.”
They cheered as they ran to collect their belongings. Then, I turned to Stella, my stare catching on the forced smile staining her lips. Nope, I don’t like that.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled her into a hug, dropping down to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Come to mine. You don’t have to stay here with him,” I whispered, keeping my voice extra low so Felix Fuckface couldn’t overhear.
“It’s okay,” Stella reassured. “Leave me. I can handle it.”
I squeezed her fingers, then veered for the parking lot to find Dylan leaning against the hood of my truck, eyes caught on his daughter in the distance, clearly arguing with her husband.
I settled next to him, accepting the offer of melting ice cream to stop my mouth from running.
“Something’s going on with her,” Dylan said.
I grunted. Not a confirmation or a dismissal.
He sighed. “She won’t tell me, but I have a feeling, you know?”
Another grunt.
Instead of prying like I thought he would, Dylan nudged his shoulder into mine. “Look after her for me, Curt? Make sure she’s okay.”
“Always,” I vowed.
I continued to eat my dessert on autopilot, my stare inadvertently catching on them time and again. I wanted to be ready to step in at any moment, to be her protector, the person she could rely on.
But, not long after, Stella turned her back and beelined for us.
Her husband’s face fell as she walked away from him, his features morphing into disheartened desperation. She couldn’t have seen the deep-seated sorrow and yearning that permeated off him like a toxic cloud.
It didn’t move me.
Resolve hardened within me as renewed purpose and drive pushed to the forefront.
All those years earlier, I had conceded to Felix, all because I thought he would treat her right, that he was the one who brought her true happiness. But he had fumbled and lost sight of the rare gem he held.
I am not going to make that mistake again. Stella Foster was going to be mine.
As I let the internal oath resonate through my soul, I distantly processed the cool taste on my tongue.
Strawberries. Stella’s favourite. Suddenly mine as well.