Fallon
Chapter twenty-three
Crawfish and Ex’s
Heat seeps into my shorts from my spot on the weathered park bench at the top of the steps that lead to the water’s edge.
Between the two of us, this thing isn’t big enough to be comfortable.
We’re too close together. His body heat radiates from him, combined with the warmth of the sun, and I’m sure my skin is flushed.
Isn’t that sexy? How every woman wants to look in front of her ex. Sticky and splotchy. Love this for me.
Billy and Liam make their way to the edge of the creek runoff, which winds its path to the mouth of the river and stretches across the space between two mountains. I remain alert, watching carefully for both Billy and Liam, ensuring their safety as they explore.
Laughter carries on the wind to us. Billy is instructing Liam on how to roll the smaller rocks slowly enough to spot a crawdad. Sure enough, within moments, Billy is lifting one out of the water to Liam’s surprised delight.
Cyrus exhales slowly, his eyes trace the careful movements of the kids as they wade ankle-deep in the water, darting between rocks, small fingers clutching makeshift nets and plastic cups borrowed from nearby children.
He looks relaxed; there’s no ball cap today, strands of his sun-kissed hair, made lighter by hours outside, blow across his brow.
The sun reflects off his blue eyes, turning them into a stunning shade of cobalt as he takes in the kids.
I’ve always thought him handsome, but something in this moment makes his features feel truly awe-inspiring.
Can I call a man angelic? Is that even appropriate?
If he keeps his mouth shut, he’s perfect from the outside.
There was a time when I hung on every word he uttered.
Now I freeze, anticipating cruelty. I sigh—
“This is going better than expected,” he states quietly, interrupting my thoughts.
Indeed, I think to myself, it is going well.
Did he not think it would? His words cause me to silently question the authenticity of everyone’s eagerness for this meetup.
My brows pinch together. This is all so perplexing.
“I never had a doubt; they are fantastic children.” My tone sharper than intended, his eyes jumped to me before darting back to the children.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound so aggressive.”
“You sure about that?” His question further frustrates me. Of course, this new reality will have us on edge. I mean, it’s a lot. Still, he’s questioning my intentions. He’s been away for a long time. We no longer know one another.
I exhale on a long breath, trying to defuse some of the pent-up frustration, batting at an insect. “I don’t make a habit of tossing out apologies that I don’t mean.”
He shifts his body. “Noted.”
As time passes, so does the tension in my shoulders; mirroring Cyrus, I begin to relax.
“Did Liam not want to meet Billy?”
His laugh is quick. “What gave you that impression?”
“You did, when you said it was going better than expected.”
He looks insulted, sharp and fleeting, before a small, quiet tug of his mouth eases his features.
His shoulder nudges mine—not aggressively, just enough to anchor me.
He’s silently saying we’re on the same side.
I feel the heat of him there, subtle but grounding, and it steadies the pull of my own nerves.
Before I remember, he is my enemy. I pull my spine straighter, swallowing down the insult I want to toss at his big, egotistical, perfect head.
His hands flex at his sides, fingers curling tightly, before letting go.
“That wasn’t what I intended, Fallon. I’m sorry,” he says, his words carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts.
“I meant…I want the kids’ first meeting to go smoothly—it means something to me.
Liam…he’s always had me, and before the accident…
my partner, Caleb. We navigated single-fatherhood side by side.
When he died, it nearly broke us. Taking the position here at Bluestone was one of the most difficult choices I’ve made.
I was hesitant. Frustrated. I was failing at everything.
Now we’re here and she’s here and you’re here. ”
I watch him. The thin line of his mouth, the faint flare of his nostrils, the way his chest rises and falls with the effort of holding back more than words can say. His eyes glint in the sunlight, a storm of pride, grief, and relief all tangled together.
My hand trembles at my side, itching to bridge the space between us, but I keep it still. It’s no longer my job to comfort the stranger beside me. Unaware of my thoughts, he continues.
“Honestly, it’s the best decision I have made in a long time.
Liam is thriving here; he’s surrounded by so many adopted aunties and uncles.
And don’t get me started on my mother. She suffocates us both with love and well intentions.
I meant that I’m glad Billy and Liam know now, and that we can all have the opportunity to bond. I swear.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that he doesn’t hold a grudge against Billy for me being her mother.
It hurts more than I will admit, knowing that we didn’t work out.
But for Billy and Liam’s sake, I can be a responsible adult.
And not stab him in his pretty little face.
They both deserve to be happy and to live in a healthy environment.
My smile recedes, the feeling of loneliness and internal rage more suffocating than ever, but I put on a brave face and tell him.
“I’m glad they get to have one another, too.
” If he hears the loneliness in my voice, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
Cyrus’s phone vibrates on the bench between us.
He shifts, his shoulder brushing mine as the wooden slats creak beneath his weight.
Heat follows—his woodsy aftershave, sharp and familiar in a way that makes my thoughts stumble.
I hate that my body still reacts before my mind can remind me who he is: the man who left, who stayed gone while I learned how to survive without him.
I drag in a steadying breath, eyes fixed on the stream where Billy and Liam are meeting for the first time, but my focus shifts when his expression softens at whatever he’s reading.
A quick, careless smile—one I remember too well—cuts through me, bringing with it something ugly that I don’t want to name.
He speaks like it’s nothing. “I have a date.” I go still, forcing my face to stay neutral even as something inside of me snaps.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” I ask, voice tight, projecting a semblance of calm.
Blue eyes shimmer with mischief. “Bold of you to assume,” he says. “What if it’s a coffee date with an old friend, catching up on the good ol’ days?”
Why does he look so smug? He thinks I have ulterior motives? No, I’m trying—desperately—to keep our interactions platonic and professional.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for either one of us to have someone else around the kids. This will be confusing enough for them,” I reply, blurting the words out even as my heartbeat threatens to betray me.
“Jonah and Amos.”
Bewildered. “Jonah and Amos…what?”
Cyrus leans back, arm stretching across the bench beside me, leaning in enough for the heat of him to brush my side. My body stiffens, caught somewhere between irritation and involuntary comfort.
“My hot date is with those two jackasses. Jonah and Amos.” I slide my sunglasses up more snugly. “Still jealous?”
Oh. Oh, I’m so stupid. My cheeks flare, hot and undeniable.
He knew I was peeved, that simmering tension I thought I was hiding—he freaking knew.
My lips press into a tight line, trying to suppress the laugh-and-cry mix bubbling up.
Great. This day is perfect. My face twists into a grimace, but my pulse betrays the truth: co-parenting with this man will be a full-contact sport, and I’m already losing.