Chapter 33
Griffin
Big blue eyes that match my own, my mom’s, my dad’s, brother’s, sister’s, and nieces’ stare into mine with all the hope in the world shining in them. The moment I met this kid, my son, my kid, I felt an indescribable bond. I think he feels the same as he rests his hand on my leg. Trust.
I look at Cricket, who has her gaze directed toward the river in the distance and tears welling in her eyes. I thanked her for giving me a child, but she did so much more than that.
She gave me my life. Back.
She gave me a purpose. Something to look forward to.
She gave me her heart. Without any conditions.
And this incredible little human. And made me a dad.
When the quiet starts to stretch, she looks over at me with a smile that could make any man’s heart weaken, but it gives mine strength. No words need to be said. She’s given me more than I ever deserved. I won’t let her down.
I open my hand. Jacob slaps his down on top of it. So small, it fits within the confines of my palm. I was his father from the beginning, but I want to remember this, the day I officially became his dad. “You know, Jacob, we have a lot in common.”
“Baseball.”
Chuckling, I say, “Yep. Baseball. And we both like bull riding.” I back up to gesture toward his belt. “You’re even a champ.”
“You are,” he says, twisting his arms together shyly.
“Third counts.”
Cricket says, “Third counts when you’re riding a bull. Good lord, if you ever have this kid—” She waves her hands like she’s washing the windows. “Nope. Don’t even want to think about it. Not going to happen.”
Reaching around Jacob, I lean to rub her back. “You okay over there?”
“No bull riding, okay?” Her voice is firm despite the kindness in her eyes.
I look at Jacob. “No bull riding. You heard your mom.”
“Aw, man.” He stomps his boot with fisted hands, but only once. I’m thinking his interests lie more in the buckle and prize than his ambitions for the sport. It’s not one I’m going to push. It’s fucking dangerous. I was stupid for doing it.
She seems satisfied, and says, “Carry on.”
Resting my back against the post, I angle his way.
“You know what else we have in common, Jacob?” He’s looking at me with such anticipation that I hope I don’t disappoint him.
“Our eye color is the same. Hold out your hand like this.” I hold my hand out palm down next to his. “Our hands. Look at that.”
He says, “Whoa. The same.”
I hear the soft giggle from Cricket but try hard to restrain mine. It’s tough with this kid being as cute as he is. “Do you know why that is?” He shakes his head, staring right into my eyes as he waits for the answer. “It’s because we’re related.”
“We are?” He shoots his gaze to his mom.
“Hey,” I say, tapping his shoulder to bring his attention back to me.
“Do you know how you met my dad at the ranch?” He nods vigorously, so much so it’s tempting to catch it before he rattles his brain.
“I’m his son. He’s my dad, my parent. You have your mom, who is your parent.
But you also have me, your dad.” The ending clogs in my throat and doesn’t come out as strong as I hoped, but I clear it to set them free. “I’m your dad, Jacob. Your father.”
He looks at Cricket again. She smiles, lifting the hat that’s barely hanging onto his head and brushing his hair back from his sweaty hairline before lowering it again. “I’m your mom. Griffin is your dad, buddy. Isn’t that great news?”
When his face whips back to me, his eyes study mine. He blinks a few times, and then says, “I want to paint.”
Cricket’s and my eyes meet under laughter. She doesn’t say a thing, though. He’s waiting for me to respond, so I nod toward the distance where we were doing the art. “Go paint, Champ.”
He hops down the steps, holding his hat, and then dashes off. He doesn’t get very far, though, before he turns around and comes running back. “I’m glad to have you as my daddy.” This time, he runs straight into my arms, into my life forever, and right into my heart.