Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
RAY
“Great job, everyone.” My cheeks sting as I scan the room and meet each of the students’ eyes. “You’ve made me proud this week.”
Like any school or class, the work gets more challenging with each step forward. This class is no exception. But these kids blew me away with their skills this week. The recipes we selected for the program range in difficulty—none of them too hard—but many are tedious and take patience. I imagined the kids huffing or groaning at the process. They proved me wrong.
I gesture to the platters along the front counter. “These are extraordinary. Be proud of yourselves.” I clap, André and Fin joining my applause before everyone else. “Now, come up here and fill your plates.”
For the last day of lunch and appetizers, each group was given a different recipe. André, Fin, and I also had our own order to fulfill. The result is five different slider-size sandwiches and an appetizer for everyone to enjoy. From mini burgers to barbecue pulled chicken to smoked trout, we made picture-worthy, mouthwatering meals.
The kids form a line and shuffle along the counter, adding one of each to their plates. Kaya pulls up the rear, a radiant smile on her face as she meets my waiting gaze.
Since meeting Kaya, I’ve seen so many of her smiles. But the one she wears now is my favorite. She’s worn it every day since waking up in my bed Saturday morning. And like a lovesick idiot, I return it with equal fervor. It’s impossible not to.
Once everyone has gotten their share, I fill a plate and join Tucker and Kaya to eat.
“How is everything, bud?”
Tucker swallows his bite and washes it down with water. “So good.” His jaw slackens as he makes this drool-worthy expression. “This one’s my favorite so far.”
Shocked by his choice, I do my best to school my features. Whenever I introduce new foods to Tucker, I remind him the flavor may not be something he’s used to, so he may not like it… at first. But I ask him to be open to trying it again, made a different way.
Tucker isn’t big on fish, but I’ve discovered new ways to make it and him enjoy it. The banh mi–style smoked trout sandwich was not something I expected him to put on his plate, but I’m glad he did.
I taste the fish sandwich for the first time and moan. “You’ve got good taste buds, T-Man.” The smokiness of the fish, the sweet and pungent flavors of the pickled vegetables, and the hint of heat from the peppers make for a killer combination.
Smile on his face, Tucker leans closer to Kaya and talks about the sandwich they made today—the ultimate veggie. With animated gestures, he demonstrates the different cuts he made for the vegetables. His bright eyes and rushed words are the absolute highlight of hosting this class.
No one indicated they ate plant-based, but I wanted to show them how flavorful and delicious vegetables can be. When most kids picture a vegetable on their plate, it’s bland, overcooked, and by itself. A lot of kids only know of a handful of vegetables—corn, peas, green beans, carrots, potatoes—and cringe at the sight of them.
I want them to love food, whether it’s plant or animal, fresh or fried. If they know new ways to eat it, the possibilities are endless.
My eyes lose focus as Tucker carries on with Kaya. His comfort with her… makes my heart warm and melty.
When I got him back, Tucker was angry and scared. All the time. It broke my damn heart. But he had a reason to be furious, to be frightful. Brianna treated him worse than trash. She used him. Left him on his own for days with no promise of returning. Convinced him I didn’t want or love him. Brianna perpetuated the lie enough that Tucker believed her. It took months of therapy and me constantly proving I would be there to disprove her lies.
After the damage she caused, I worried Tucker would have trust issues. Being with Mom often helped, Abigail too. Having loving feminine figures in his life has been the biggest saving grace. Adding Kaya into the fold has been life changing.
Tucker smiles, laughs, and comes alive more since Kaya entered the picture. As do I.
Her leg nudges mine beneath the table. “You’re staring,” she whispers then chuckles. Her cheeks flush as she clamps her lips between her teeth, fighting a smile.
I lean in and lower my voice. “You’re mine to stare at, Fire Eyes.”
With a roll of her eyes, she shakes her head. “At least try to be inconspicuous.”
Wiping my hands and mouth with a napkin, I pinch her chin between my fingers, turn her until we’re nose to nose, close the distance between us, and chastely kiss her. Beside us, Tucker makes kissy sounds. “Not a chance.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re also mine to kiss. Best everyone knows that.”
Her blush darkens to a beautiful shade of red as she lifts a hand to her lips. “Yeah, I suppose so.” This time, she doesn’t fight her smile.
With full bellies, the kids fill take-out boxes and clean up the room.
Kaya removes her chef’s coat and stows it in her bag before shouldering it. “I should get going. Finger-painting day at the rec center.” She winces. “Thank goodness it’s water-based, or I’d never get it out of my clothes.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I glance over my shoulder and mouth to Fin I’ll be back. As I open the door, Cameron is on the other side, hand reaching for the handle. A sense of déjà vu hits, and I mentally stumble back.
“Chef,” she croaks, her admiration coloring her pale skin. “Glad I caught you.”
I rub my jaw. “Can it wait a minute?”
She holds up an envelope. “Just came to bring you this. It was taped to the door.”
Every muscle in my body stiffens as I reach for the envelope. My name on the face in a handwriting I’ll never forget. “Thanks, Cameron.”
Passing her, I study the envelope as we move through the dining room, a chill rolling down my spine. “Fuck,” I mutter.
Kaya hooks her arm through mine and guides us to the front door. “What is it?”
I inhale a jittery breath. Clench my jaw until my molars throb. Swallow past my fear and let rage take its place. “Brianna,” I snarl. “I’ve ignored her since the surprise visit.” I wave the envelope in front of us as we step outside. “Highly doubt this is her asking about Tucker.” Irritation forms like a cancer in my gut.
Why won’t she leave us the hell alone?
Brianna detested motherhood, despised being chained down . Yet here she is again, back for more.
Just crawl into a hole and let us move on.
I owe Brianna nothing. Not visitation. Nor a conversation. And certainly not money.
“Are you going to open it?” A beep sounds as we approach Kaya’s car. She tosses her bag in the back but makes no move to get in.
“Whether I want to or not, I have to.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She doesn’t care about Tucker and will use him every chance she gets. Do whatever it takes to get what she wants.”
“Money,” Kaya mutters.
I tip my face skyward, blink a few times, then level my expression. “And she has no remorse manipulating or exploiting Tucker to get it.” My stomach cramps at the idea of Brianna committing heinous acts.
“What can I do?”
A simple question, yet it eases some of the agony.
Lifting a hand to her cheek, I step into Kaya and press a soft kiss to her lips. “Don’t let me lose myself.” I swallow. “No matter what happens, don’t let me become someone I’m not because of her.”
Kaya frames my face, her soft thumbs stroking my cheeks as she stares into my soul. “I’ve got you.” Her shimmery gaze holds mine. So steady. So consolatory. “Lean on me. Share the burden.” She pushes up on her toes and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Let me help you carry it.”
I drop my forehead to hers. “Don’t want her to ruin this. Us.”
“Not going to happen.” Confidence laces her words.
And damn, do I want to share her optimism. To believe everything will be okay. Unfortunately, I’ve glimpsed Brianna’s dark side. Seen how low she’ll go to get what she wants. And it terrifies the shit out of me.
“Want to open it before I go?”
I should let Kaya leave for the rec center. Let her play with finger-painting kids and not wreck the rest of her day. But selfish me wants her here, at my side. She asked me to lean on her, and I should. If I want this to work, I need to share the stress and hurt I’ve carried for so long on my own. Let her be part of my support system.
“Yeah.” I nod and ease out of her hold. “Sure.”
On a sharp inhale, I slip a finger under the envelope flap. On the exhale, I tear it open. A dingy, crumpled piece of paper stares back at me, tormenting. Nausea roils in my belly as I slide it out and unfold it.
Need that money.
Three words. One demand. A lifetime of her always lurking in the shadows for more.
Bile burns the back of my throat. Dropping my hands to my knees, I inhale for a count of five, hold it for three, then exhale for five. My rib cage strangles my lungs, suffocating, unrelenting. The thunderous whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of my pulse clogs my ears. The ground wobbles and spins beneath my feet, and I close my eyes to steady myself.
And then Kaya is there. Her gentle hands on my face, grounding me. Her warm voice in my ear, snuffing out my panic as she coaches me to breathe.
“Give me some of that hurt.” She presses a kiss to my forehead. “Give me some of that fear.”
The backs of my eyes burn as I lift my gaze to hers. Pain explodes in my knees as I drop to the ground and fall back on my haunches. Tremors shake every muscle in my body as I stare into her eyes and relinquish a fraction of the heartache I’ve shouldered for far too long.
One fallen tear is all it takes for the floodgates to open. And for the first time in years, I rip open my chest and expose my heart fully. I put my vulnerability on the line and pray Kaya keeps it safe.
Crawling onto my lap, she wraps her arms and legs around me in the middle of the parking lot. Hugs me so fiercely it hurts. But I want nothing less.
I squeeze her to my chest and cry into the crook of her neck. Spill my anguish in a rivulet of tears onto her skin. Release an ounce of my dread as I fist her top and keep her close. Minutes tick by, but she doesn’t let go. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t shove me away. If anything, she strengthens her hold. Runs her fingers through my hair. Rocks us gently. Hums softly in my ear.
When the tears run dry, I loosen my hold of her and lean back. Sniffle and wipe my nose on the sleeve of my coat. “Thanks, Fire Eyes.”
Her fingers trace my hairline, then comb through the thick strands. “Any time.”
I love how she means it.
“You should get going.” I stand us up and smooth out her hair.
“I’ll stay longer if you need me to.”
My fingers toy with the end of her braid. “I’m good now.” A sad smile tugs at my lips. “Need to see if my parents or Abi can watch Tucker for a bit.” I wave the note between us. “Barron Law handled Bri’s parental rights surrender paperwork. Maybe they can help with this.”
“Hope so.” Kaya lays her hands on my chest over my heart. “Might be good to talk with the police or Tymber Woulf Security, too.” Lines mar her forehead. “If you’re worried about Tucker’s or your safety.”
I hate that it’s something I need to think about, let alone worry over. But Kaya’s right. Better to err on the side of caution.
“Thanks for the suggestion, Fire Eyes. I’ll go there afterward.”
“Hurts to leave you like this,” she admits, a breath above a whisper.
Eyes on hers, I press a chaste kiss to her lips. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t want you to go. But I know you need to.” I take a step back, toy with her braid then release it. “Come over after the rec center.”
She nods. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I inhale a shaky breath. “Thanks for catching me, Fire Eyes.”
Tears rim her glittery eyes. “Always, Chef.” She slips into the driver’s seat. “See you soon.”
I lift a hand and wave. “Soon,” I repeat.
And until her car disappears from view, I remain rooted in place, my fear from minutes ago trickling back in.
Scarlett Barron assures me Brianna cannot touch Tucker—legally.
“Your paperwork is ironclad. If she so much as talks to Tucker without your permission, you have the right to seek legal counsel and protection.” She skims the note one last time then returns it. “As for this, I’d talk with Chief Emerson. From our previous conversations, we both know Brianna is unstable. Someone who’d go to extremes. And that’s dangerous.” With a dip of her head, she gestures to the note. “The money she demanded… she’s in deep. You don’t want that trouble knocking on your door.” She hesitates for a breath. “Or disrupting Tucker’s life. Not any more than it already has.”
Elbow on the conference room table, I drop my head in my hand and mutter a curse. Squeezing my temples until pain shoots across my forehead, I drop my hand and sit up.
“I wish I had a more positive solution for you.” A sympathetic smile curves her lips. “Go see Emerson and get everything on paper. If she continues to harass you, the documentation helps build your case.”
Fuck .
“Police station was next on my list.” I shove the note in the envelope. “Have you worked with the new security firm? Was thinking they could investigate Brianna more. Maybe give me an idea of what I’m up against.”
“Tymber and Levi are an asset in the community. Worth every cent.” Scarlett’s praise of the small security and investigation company eases some of my stress.
“Appreciate your candor.” Wheels whisper over wood as I push away from the table, rise from my seat, and offer my hand. “I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”
Scarlett takes my hand and braces it with her other in a show of support. “We’re always here for you. If I’m unavailable, don’t hesitate to ask for Emery.” Pride shines in her eyes at the mention of her daughter. “She will go to battle and come out the victor.” Scarlett gestures to the door. “I’ll introduce you on the way out.”
My conversation with Emery Barron is brief but enough to let me know who she is as a person. Determined, bold, kindhearted. Having either Scarlett or Emery—or both—in my corner is an honor and privilege and assuages my anxiety more. With them, I feel like I have a fighting chance.
At the police department, I’m directed to the other Emerson—Travis, the chief’s son. Over an hour passes as I recount my history with Brianna and her recent reappearance. Travis types furiously on his computer, documenting every word. When I finish and inhale my first full breath since walking through the door, he gives me a well-practiced smile.
“Your call, but a restraining order should be put in place.” Travis leans back in his chair, his fingers tapping the arms. “It’s another layer of protection for you and Tucker.”
“Really think we need it?” Would a restraining order do anything? It’s a piece of paper, not a steel wall.
Travis rests his forearms on the desk and leans forward. “Will it keep her away?” Pursing his lips, he shakes his head. “No. What it will do is tell a judge you are concerned for Tucker’s well-being and your own.” A look of understanding crosses his features. “For your son’s sake, I hope it’s unnecessary. But if something does happen, that piece of paper works in your favor. It’s ammunition to put her behind bars.”
Never imagined myself in this position—filing a restraining order against someone from my past. An online stalker? Sure. I’ve seen followers turn obsessive, possessive. But someone I once cared for? Never. And the reality of it makes my stomach churn.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “Do it.” While Travis fills out paperwork, I ask him about the security and investigation firm. If he’s worked with them and his opinion. “Wanted to see if they’ll dig into Brianna’s past. Maybe find something I can leverage. Possibly what her life was like when she had Tucker.”
“We worked with them on recent cases. Top-notch. Thorough.” His fingers pause over the keyboard. “Levi’s a buddy and genius-level smart, but don’t take offense if he doesn’t work your case. He’s been through some stuff.”
I may not know the case details, but I do know Levi was part of a major investigation last year that turned his life upside down. And the only reason I know that much is because my parents spoke with the West family often, on an endless mission to join my sister and Levi in holy matrimony. It was doomed from the start but got infinitely worse when Abigail took it too far. Since then, interactions with the West family have been… strained.
When Tucker ran up to Levi’s boyfriend, Oliver, at the Memorial Day Festival a couple months ago, I wanted to apologize to Levi—for what happened to him, for the way my family and his treated him, for every absurd dinner he was forced to attend at my parents’ house or his. No one deserves what he went through. I’m in awe of his strength and perseverance.
I acknowledge with a nod. “I have no expectations. Only hope.”
By early evening, I wrap up with Travis and drive around the block to Tymber Woulf Security and Investigative Services. Tymber walks me into his office, closes the door, and asks me to share my story.
I leave nothing out.
Tymber says he’ll run lead on my case. That Levi, with his extensive research skills, will likely join later. “If there’s a trail, we’ll find it. You have my word.” Tymber walks me to my car. “We’re damn good at what we do.”
Relief washes over me as I unlock the car. “Thanks, man. Your help is priceless. Pass my appreciation on to Levi.”
“Will do.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. Reach out with any updates, no matter the hour.”
Twilight indigo paints the sky as I exit the parking lot. For the first time in years, confidence and optimism outweigh fear and hurt, and I breathe easier.
The road forward may be bumpy, but at least we will reach the other side unscathed.