31. Daire
31
DAIRE
“Yeah, I understand. Mhm. Thank you.”
I end the call and turn to Rosie. She’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now, sitting on the floor with Sammy, playing peek-a-boo.
I asked her to marry me because I was desperate to know my son. I never considered that she might treat him as her own. But it’s so clear in this moment that I couldn’t have picked a better person to do this life with.
“What was that about?” she asks, setting a dancing cactus toy in front of him.
“It was Nina.” I let out a long breath. “The funeral is this weekend, and we need to go.”
Rosie flinches. “Is it bad that I forgot there would be a funeral?” She bites down on her lip and surveys Sammy. “That makes me feel awful. I’ve been so caught up in settling into this new routine, and… wow, I feel like a selfish asshole. They died, and the thought has barely crossed my mind.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “Me too,” I admit with a flinch. Fuck, I’m an asshole. Adjusting to parenthood isn’t a good excuse, but it’s the only one I’ve got. “It’s been three weeks already. It seems like a long time to wait, but according to Nina, the family needed the time to prepare arrangements and travel.”
“Makes sense.” Rosie wrinkles her nose. “Um… does this mean they’ve been, like, refrigerated all this time?” She flinches as soon as the question is out of her mouth. “I just can’t imagine being frozen for that long.”
“I’m not sure,” I answer, sitting on the floor with her and Sammy.
He’s only beginning to sit unassisted.
Danielle might’ve thrown me for a loop, and I’ve been angry at her for a long time, but now all I can think about is that, while I missed out on his early milestones, she’ll never see the rest. And the realization makes me feel mildly ill.
I hope like hell I can do a good job raising this kid.
Rosie’s hand is warm against my cheek as she turns my face so I’m forced to look at her. “What are you thinking about? You look sad.”
I could lie, but what’s the point in that?
“I was thinking about how I missed out on things like his first smile and first laugh. Rolling over. But Danielle? She’s not getting any more of those firsts. Ever. And despite what she did to me, she is—was—his mom.”
Rosie slips her hand to the back of my neck, pulling my head down so she can rest her forehead against mine.
“You’re a good man, Daire. And an amazing father. I hope you know that.”
I take her free hand and kiss her palm, then I lace my fingers with hers.
Sammy giggles. Every time he does something cute, the smile I wear is instantaneous.
“God, he’s cute.” I ruffle his downy soft hair.
“I have to admit, I think most babies are ugly, but he’s perfect.”
I throw my head back and guffaw. “Only you would admit to thinking babies are ugly.”
“What?” She blinks innocently, moving to sit with her back against the couch. “Most of them are. Parents are just biologically programmed to think they’re adorable or some shit.”
Sammy teeters, and I dart a hand out to steady him before he falls. He babbles nonsense that I’d like to think is his way of saying thank you.
“Rosie?”
“Mhm?” She hums, her head lolling in my direction.
“Just so you know, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with than you.”
“Not even Miley Cyrus?”
I drop my head back and groan. “How dare you bring up my Miley Cyrus obsession.”
“Remember that summer you insisted we watch Hannah Montana at my house because you didn’t want your brothers to know you loved the show?”
I cover my face with my hands. “Well, you were obsessed with the Jonas Brothers,” I counter.
“What girl my age wasn’t?” She tucks her legs under her, smiling at me.
The warmth in her eyes matches the heat radiating from my chest at the memories.
Sammy slaps his hand against the rug, catching our attention.
Rosie scoops him up, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. As his responding giggles fill the air, I decide it’s one of my favorite sounds.
This right here?
My little family?
It’s all I never knew I needed.
Sammy is strapped to my chest because I’m too fucking paranoid to carry him in my arms where someone might take him from me. It’s ridiculous; these people are his family, but to me they’re strangers.
As if sensing my tension, Rosie stays by my side, her arm looped through mine as we move around the room.
The funeral was an awkward affair that left me feeling ill.
Lots of crying. Lots of hugging—which I wasn’t prepared for. And lots of questions.
There were some scathing looks from Danielle’s husband’s family. I can’t totally blame them, I guess. It was a joint funeral, and I’m proof, along with Sammy, of Danielle’s infidelity. It’s not my fault she cheated on her husband. For all I know, they cooked up the plan together. It would’ve saved thousands of dollars if they were considering the IVF route. Not that I’ll ever know whether that was their goal.
As uncomfortable as the service was, the awkwardness of the luncheon is so much worse.
“I’m Julie, Danielle’s aunt,” a woman with brown hair and a hint of gray at her roots says. “That makes me this little one’s great-aunt—I think that’s right.” She moves in close and tries to pet Sammy’s head, but with my height, she ends up getting nowhere close.
It doesn’t help that I’m trying to sidestep her in an awkward mockery of a dance.
“Cool. I’m Daire. Sammy’s father.” I’ve said this at least five million times today. “And this is my wife, Rosie.”
Rosie waves with her free hand. “Hello.”
“Hi, dear.” The aunt, Julie, doesn’t even make eye contact with her, which instantly grates on me. “Can I hold him?”
She already has her hands outstretched for him.
“No.”
Her mouth parts and her eyes go wide with shock, just like everyone else I’ve encountered today.
Sue me for protecting my kid. I don’t know any of these people, and in a crowd this size, there are germs galore. I don’t want him getting sick. And frankly, I’m paranoid enough to think that if I hand him off, I might not get him back.
“Why?” She’s bold enough to ask, unlike the others I’ve turned away.
“Because I said so.”
I don’t owe anyone an explanation.
Rosie snickers at my side and tries to hide the sound with a cough.
Julie, clearly flabbergasted, stammers, struggling to find words.
Before she can formulate a response, I simply move to another corner of the room and start the whole process over again.
“Do you want me to grab a plate of food for you?” Rosie asks, eyeing the buffet set up in the corner. Her nose wrinkles with displeasure.
“Fuck no. We’re getting Chipotle after this.”
She presses a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. “You’ve already thought about this.”
“Baby, I’ve already got the order ready to submit.”
She sticks her lip out in a pout. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted anything.”
“I already know what you want.”
Her brows furrow. “We’ve never had Chipotle together before.”
“Rosie.” I cock my head to the side, staring her down. “I know you.” I pull my phone out and bring up the app, then I pass it to her.
Slack-jawed she reads the details of bowl I have saved for her. “You really do, huh?” She slides my phone back into my pocket for me, her hand lingering on my thigh a few seconds longer than necessary. “How much longer do you think we need to stay?”
I twist my head from side to side, considering the people mingling around the room. It’s already been an hour.
“Another twenty?” I suggest.
She nods. “Sounds like a plan. I’ve gotta go pee, though.”
My heart lurches at the notion. “Don’t leave me,” I practically beg.
The idea of facing these people without Rosie by my side for even a second makes me want to throw up.
She dances back and forth on her tiptoes. “But I really have to go.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“To watch me pee?” she asks a little too loudly, causing more than one person in our vicinity to turn in her direction.
“I meant I’d stand outside the door. Jeesh. I don’t have some weird pee kink, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Fine,” she agrees, releasing my arm. “Let’s go before my bladder explodes.”
I follow her down a long hallway and park myself against the wall while she steps inside the ladies’ room.
It’s pathetic of me to hide like this, I know. Nina told me that none of the family has stepped forward in any way to try to claim rights to Sammy, but I still find myself scared to death that someone is going to take him from me.
I have no problem with Danielle’s family wanting to know him and be involved in his life. They are his family, after all. But until he’s 100 percent mine by law, it makes me uncomfortable.
I’m probably overthinking things, but I can’t help it.
And being here makes me uncomfortable in other ways too.
Like a semi at full speed, it hit me, in the middle of the funeral. Where would Sammy go if something happened to me? He’s not Rosie’s, not by blood, but I still think she’d take care of him. Maybe one of my brothers would help her.
Immediately I picture Cash moving in to help her and how, from there, they’d fall in love.
Get married.
Have a kid of their own.
And now I want to throw up.
I haven’t spoken to my brother in months. If he knows about Sammy, then it’s because my dad or one of my brothers told him. While my dad and Roman were visiting, they forced me to tell Asher and Hudson, but I refused when it came to Cash.
It probably makes me territorial as fuck, but I don’t like that he wants Rosie.
She’s mine.
The bathroom door opens, effectively cutting off my train of thought, and Rosie appears, head tilted to the side, appraising me.
“Why does it look like you’re freaking out?”
I clear my throat and cup the back of Sammy’s head. “Because I am.”
No sense in denying it when it’s blatantly obvious.
“About what?”
We head back into the large room, where mourners stand in circles talking to each other. This looks like it’s as good a time as any to sneak away.
I came. I’ve done my part.
So I steer Rosie toward the exit, and she doesn’t protest.
“You didn’t answer the question,” she accuses when we reach the car.
I push the button on my key fob, and while the door slides open, I work Sammy out of the carrier so I can strap him into his car seat.
Side-eyeing her, I mumble, “I was stressing about what would happen to Sammy if I were to die.”
“Oh.” She presses her lips together. “For starters, let’s not think negatively like that. Second, I hope you know I’d never let anything bad happen to him.”
I jerk my head in a nod and cover him with a blanket now that he’s all strapped in.
As I push the button to close the door and step back, Rosie places a gentle hand on my arm.
“Hey.” Her tone is soft, comforting. “Don’t freak out. If this is something you’re really worried about, then let’s call Nina. She can help you set up whatever you need to in order to make sure he’s taken care of.”
Leave it to Rosie to talk sense into me.
Feeling a modicum lighter, I press a hand to her cheek and bring my mouth to hers.
Before Rosie, kissing was just kissing.
With Rosie, it’s an experience. One I’ll never get sick of.
I press my forehead to hers.
“Why do you always do that?” she asks, her breath fogging the chilled air.
“Do what?”
“Put your forehead against mine.” She pressed warm palms to my cheeks.
“I don’t know. I guess it makes me feel centered. All the worries and negative thoughts fade away.”
Her eyes shine, making my heart sink. Shit. Did my confession upset her?
“What?” I ask dumbly.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, stepping away.
Gently I grasp her wrist and take a step toward her. “Did I say something wrong?”
She wraps her free arm around her torso and shakes her head. “No, I just… I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
I tug on a piece of dark, curled hair and wrap it around my finger. Its softness distracts me momentarily. Does she do something special to make it that way, or is her hair naturally that soft?
“What I’m hearing is that I need to give you compliments more often.”
She lets out a watery laugh, but her eyes still swim with sadness. “What can I say? I guess my love language is words of affirmation.”
I take her in my arms and hold her for several heartbeats.
I’m going to tell this girl every day for the rest of our lives how much she means to me.
With a kiss to her forehead, I release her and reach for her door. “Let’s go, baby.”