4
The puck he’d slipped into his pants pocket felt heavy against his thigh, but he didn’t pull it out.
Kaira had some of Jordy’s game pucks already, including the one from the first goal he scored after her birth and adoption. She didn’t need this one.
So Jordy held on to the puck until after she’d gone to bed and he and Rowan collapsed onto the couch together.
“So, what did you think of your second NHL game?”
“Being in the box was different,” Rowan said. “Also, I still have no idea what’s going on most of the time and Kaira is still terrible at explaining things. At least this time some of the neighbors were helpful.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, a couple of wives took pity on me and gave me some pointers.” Then he shrugged and smiled. “Thankfully I got the most important details down. Puck in net good.”
“Wow. With insight like that, they’ll be asking you to do game commentary soon.”
“I try.”
“Well, to mark your new insights, you should have this.” Jordy handed him the puck.
“A rubber disk, what I’ve always wanted,” Rowan snarked, but his grin took the sting out of the words.
“Not just any rubber disk. That’s an ‘in net good’ one.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s tradition for players to keep pucks after important or milestone goals. Like your hundredth or first in a league or on a team.”
“Wait, this is your first Orca goal puck? Jordy, that’s yours.”
“Yes, and I’m giving it to you.”
“But—”
“I want you to have it. After all, you get some of the credit for it,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Not sure that goal happens tonight if not for last night.” It was cliché but true. Jordy had been riding high all day, and Rowan had inspired that invincible feeling. Jordy might not get to keep Rowan, but knowing that Rowan thought him worthy of love? An ego boost of the first order.
“Well. Since you won the game today and I helped, we should probably go celebrate,” Rowan suggested coyly, sending a bolt of heat rocking through Jordy.
“Yeah. Let’s go do that.”
CHRISTMAS EVE was a whirlwind of hyperactive child and last-minute jobs. Rowan had never done Christmas with a small child before—not since he was one himself—so he was unprepared for how the day seemed to alternate between hurry-up-and-wait and a mad scramble to get everything done.
Kaira was ecstatic that Santa would definitely be able to find her new house, cross their hearts. Rowan was just relieved Jordy had taken care of all the gift wrapping before their arrival.
And that Jordy had barred the rest of his family from joining him over the holidays, given that more chaos of any sort would make things more difficult for Kaira. Not to mention that spending the holidays with the rest of the Shaws would be an awkward in-law-esque time for Rowan.
Especially since anyone who didn’t sleep like the dead might have heard the howling Rowan had licked out of Jordy in celebration of his goal. Rowan had figured he should reward that perfect hockey ass for doing its job so nicely by eating it.
By some miracle, they got Kaira into bed at a normal time, set up the presents under the tree, and then fell back into Jordy’s bed for dirty, if rushed, blowjobs before sleep.
All in all, a great day.
So naturally, Kaira woke them at 5:08 a.m. by vomiting on Jordy’s bed.
Rowan was sprawled facedown into a pillow and in the middle of a REM cycle when it happened, so he went from a soothing dream about winning an award for creating the perfect organization system to replace Dewey to wondering why his leg was wet.
The room was dark except for the light cast by one of the motion-sensor night lights Jordy had scattered around the various outlets, ostensibly for Kaira but probably also so that any adult wandering around an unfamiliar house at night had a 90 percent chance of getting where they were going without stubbing their toe.
“Zzzt?” he said, blinking, and started to roll over.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Uh, Rowan, just—don’t move for a minute.”
Then Rowan registered the smell, and his brain helpfully filled him in on the sounds that had filtered into his sleeping brain just before he woke up.
“Kaira?” he asked hoarsely.
“Daddy, did I growl?” came Kaira’s voice.
The mattress shifted as Jordy got up. “No, peanut, you threw up. Let me just—” A soft exhale. “Okay, you’ve got a bit of a fever. Just give me one second here.”
The blankets at the foot of the bed grew heavier around Rowan’s legs as Jordy folded them around the pile of sick.
“You can get up now,” Jordy said. “Uh. If you want. Without the risk of getting more puke everywhere.”
Rowan sat up. “Well, I am definitely awake.” He wiped his hand over his eyes. “You take the bath, I’ll take the laundry?”
Jordy looked at the bedsheet and grimaced. At least they’d thrown off the coverlet last night. “I think these sheets are telling us something. Trash them, I have another set. And then maybe coffee?”
“Coffee,” Rowan agreed.
But he didn’t get up until Jordy carried Kaira out of the room toward the bath, because unlike Jordy, Rowan had been too lazy to put underwear back on before they went to sleep the night before.
Now there was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
By the time Jordy emerged from the bathroom with Kaira in a fresh pair of puke-free pajamas, Rowan had the coffee ready and breakfast going—plain oatmeal and pancakes with no chocolate chips. He didn’t know whether Kaira would have much of an appetite, but he and Jordy needed to eat, and they could add fruit to bland food.
And protein, in Jordy’s case, but Rowan had not had enough time to caffeinate to be thinking about protein.
“Here.” He nudged the bottle of Gatorade he’d unearthed from the pantry toward Jordy. Jordy only drank it cold, but there was only so much room in the fridge, and room temperature would be better on an upset stomach. “I couldn’t find a straw.”
“That’s what the sports caps are for.” Jordy broke the seal and passed the bottle to Kaira, who was curled up on the couch under a lurid red-and-green throw blanket that Rowan suspected had been bestowed on them by Jordy’s captain. “Drink some of that while I try to find a thermometer, okay, sweetheart?”
Oh boy. “Try to find?” Rowan echoed.
Jordy grimaced. “I didn’t think the first thing she was going to do when she got here was projectile vomit.”
And now here it was, Christmas Day, and Jordy without the necessary supplies.
“At least one pharmacy will be open,” Rowan pointed out. “You just have to figure out which one.” He pulled a notepad and pen off the fridge. “Thermometer, Pedialyte, Children’s Tylenol…?”
“Replacement Christmas?” Jordy said, wry but also defeated.
“No one’s immune to plane crud.” Rowan flipped a couple pancakes onto a plate. “Eat these, drink some coffee, and go play hunter-gathering hero. Kaira and I can be pathetic sad sacks without you. We have lots of practice.”
“I can’t believe I actually find that reassuring.” Jordy sighed and kissed Rowan’s cheek. “Love you.” He repeated his departure with Kaira, reassured her he’d be back as soon as he could, and then it was just Rowan and Kaira and a whole lot of germs.
It looked like Kaira had fallen asleep on the couch, so Rowan closed the Gatorade bottle and set it beside her, then spent ten minutes googling how to make a sick child comfortable. By the time Jordy returned, Kaira was still asleep and Rowan had raided the cupboards and decanted an entire array of sick-kid necessities—a big steel bowl for vomit, her favorite books, Piglet, a sleeve of plain crackers, and a handful of the sweet “fruit” flavored granny candies Jordy thought Rowan didn’t know he favored. The television remotes were all at hand, and he’d turned on the Christmas tree as well and set a pot of orange slices and cinnamon sticks simmering on the stove in case Kaira did throw up again.
It should still smell like Christmas, at the very least.
Jordy opened his mouth as if to say something, but Rowan jerked his head at the couch, where Kaira had turned onto her side and was sleeping soundly, or as soundly as one could when one was a sick child.
“This is not how I wanted today to go,” Jordy sighed in a whisper as Rowan wrapped him in a hug.
“I expected her to wake us up early to open presents, not the contents of her stomach,” Rowan agreed. Jordy snorted in his ear. “It’s fine, hey? We’ll improvise. Turkey soup instead of a roast.” Though if he was going to make stock, he’d better get to roasting.
“There’s just three of us,” Jordy said. “I bought a chicken.”
“Even better.”
While Jordy went to check Kaira’s fever, Rowan spatched the chicken and put it in the oven to roast. He might as well; chicken soup was a cure-all whether it was ten in the morning or seven at night.
He would’ve liked to curl up on the couch next to Jordy, but with Kaira sleeping on it, there wasn’t room, so he made himself comfortable on a pillow on the floor and leaned back against Jordy’s legs to read a book while Jordy scrolled on his phone.
“Emma says Merry Christmas,” Jordy murmured sometime later.
Marking the page with his finger, Rowan looked up from his book and smiled. “Tell her I say it back.”
“She also sends her condolences for the demised cheer,” he added as he tapped out Rowan’s answer.
Rowan snorted. “Kind of her. But I don’t know, could be worse.”
Jordy groaned softly. “Why would you say that? Don’t tempt fate.”
“It’s not tempting fate. I just think some people are having a worse holiday than us. There’s bound to be someone, right?”
Jordy shook his head and regarded Rowan with a bemused smile. Then he leaned forward and kissed Rowan’s nose. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” Because Rowan wouldn’t rather be anywhere else this Christmas, vomit and all. Though he’d really been looking forward to the magic of secondhand delight and watching Kaira tear into her presents.
When he voiced this sentiment aloud, Jordy snorted. “She’ll still do that. We’ll know she’s feeling better when she starts ripping wrapping paper.”
They were watching It’s a Wonderful Life on very low volume—thank goodness for closed captioning—when Kaira woke up a second time. They were able to get some Tylenol, Pedialyte, and a banana into her easily enough, since her stomach seemed more settled. She snuggled between them and watched the last half hour of the movie, by which point her fever had subsided enough that she almost perked up.
“Should we see what Santa left in your stocking?” Jordy asked, and she perked up even more, though not enough to get off the couch.
Jordy fetched the stockings from the fireside and brought all three over. Rowan wasn’t surprised to find his just as stuffed as Kaira’s, since no six-year-old would understand Santa forgetting one of her adults. Still, he hadn’t expected this lapful of gifts.
Kaira’s eyes nearly popped out as she took in her overflowing stocking. “That’s all for me?”
“Yup, all for you, poppet.” Rowan snuck a kiss to her head because he could.
Jordy was apparently a traditionalist when it came to stockings, as it was full of small necessities as well as toys—Disney toothbrush and toothpaste, animal-shaped Lip Smackers, armadillo socks (which Rowan was amazed existed), unicorn underpants (which didn’t surprise him), rainbow barrettes, crayons and a coloring book, stickers, and some candy. Kaira marveled over every new find, but the best part was undoubtably the brand-new Bilbo the Armadillo book— Bilbo the Armadillo Hosts Christmas . Naturally, both Rowan and Jordy had to read it to her immediately.
After one read-through each, Kaira noticed their untouched stockings and demanded to see what was in them, so Rowan let her pull out each item and inspect it. If Jordy wanted to give him something not child-appropriate, he wouldn’t have given Rowan the stocking in front of Kaira. She pulled out pairs of fun socks, lip balm, some nice pens, a travel notebook, toothbrush and toothpaste, and an array of packaged snacks and candies not usually for sale this side of the pond. Rowan was delighted by the Hobnobs, but he’d found those here before.
“Where did you find Twirls and Flakes?” he demanded. “Or the Branstons?” He waved the jar of pickle at Jordy, who shrugged like it was no big deal.
“I found a local shop that stocks British food.”
“I,” Rowan said magnanimously, “am not going to think about how much this stupid jar was marked up, and instead I’m going to eat every delicious bite before I fly out of town.”
Jordy’s smile twitched and dimmed a fraction, but only for a moment. He rallied with a laugh. “I’ll remind you of that next week, if and when you fail.”
“I won’t!”
“What is it?” Kaira asked, curious.
“Pickled vegetables. It’s a type of relish.”
“Gross,” Kaira said with feeling, pulling a face.
“Yeah, you probably wouldn’t like it. Me, on the other hand? I’m going to eat so many cheese-and-pickle sandwiches.”
And then he decided he’d better stop talking before Kaira’s queasy face became Kaira’s upchucked banana, and reminded her she had one more stocking to oversee the emptying of.
Jordy wasn’t expecting any surprises, of course, since he’d been the one in charge of gifts, but Rowan had found a few small items to slip into the stocking when Jordy’s back was turned.
Seeing Jordy’s baffled face when Kaira pulled the matching novelty socks and tie out was priceless. They were kind of terrible—navy blue with neon pink and covered in cartoon dinosaurs. Kaira loved them.
“Daddy, Santa gave you a tie for work!”
“Yes, yes he did,” Jordy said dryly and shot Rowan a look. Jordy would have worn them anyway, Rowan was sure, but getting Kaira in on it ensured he would probably wear them to his next game.
The next item Kaira unearthed was the large flat magnet Rowan had found for the fridge—a comprehensive chart that converted kitchen measurements from Imperial to metric, and in some cases between volume and weight. Jordy’s struggle to conceptualize metric was a constant delight to Rowan, who enjoyed Jordy’s consternated expression every time Canadian packaging betrayed him and failed to include both sets of measurements. Not that it happened as often as it would elsewhere. Canadians couldn’t make up their minds about anything. Weather was measured in Celsius but ovens in Fahrenheit?
Jordy shot Rowan the bitchiest of bitchfaces, clearly salty about Rowan’s dig, but how could he resist? The one time Kaira asked him to use one of Rowan’s cookie recipes while Rowan was at work, he’d sent a string of grumpy, petty texts about incomprehensible measuring systems.
“Ooh, magnet. What’s it for?”
“It’s to help Daddy bake.” Kaira nodded like this made perfect sense and pulled the next item out.
As each was revealed, Rowan was glad that he’d contributed, since Jordy seemed incapable of getting himself anything that wasn’t purely functional. His stocking looked like he’d emptied his bathroom cabinet into it.
Well, other than the boring sports socks and granny candies, of course.
By that point Kaira had worn herself out and was ready for another snuggle, so they cleared away their presents and put on The Muppet Christmas Carol , the only one worth watching, and passed the rest of the morning like that.
By lunchtime, the chicken had cooled and was ready to be turned into soup, so after their meals of eggs and toast for Kaira and leftovers for the adults, Rowan set the pot to simmering. It might not be a traditional Christmas feast, but the smell of chicken soup permeated the house and had them all ready for dinner that night.
After the sun had set and Jordy had transferred a snoozing Kaira back to bed, he and Rowan cuddled up on the couch, looking at the tree.
“So it might not be morning anymore, but you still have a present under the tree to open,” Jordy murmured.
“Mm.” Rowan was curled into Jordy’s side, his head resting on his shoulder, and he didn’t want to move. Any other night and he would have suggested they make use of Kaira’s shockingly early bedtime in an adults-only fashion. But tonight it felt good just to be close. Not to mention that a five o’clock wakeup and a day with a sick kid weren’t exactly great for one’s libido.
“Rowan, I’m asking if you wanna open your present.”
“Present?”
“Yes, present. Someone was a very good boy”—Rowan shivered; maybe his libido had gotten enough rest after all—“and has presents under the tree.”
“But Kaira….”
“She won’t notice. She’s a bit young to care too much about presents from other people to other people.”
So Rowan let Jordy extricate himself enough to grab their gifts for each other. The large bag he placed on Rowan’s lap wasn’t exactly heavy, but it had weight enough and was stuffed full under the top layer of red and green tissue paper. Inside were a set of leather touchscreen-compatible gloves, a matching scarf and hat in a burgundy that Rowan had been assured looked good on him, and finally a brown leather messenger bag with a “handmade in BC” label and his initials stamped in the bottom corner of the flap.
“Jordy,” Rowan choked. There was no way Jordy had purchased this in the past forty-eight hours. He’d bought this for Rowan his friend, not his lover. Rowan ran his hands over the leather, then flipped it open to find pockets of varying sizes and uses tucked everywhere. Damn.
“I figured anyone working at a library or a college needed a good leather bag.”
“It’s a university, you heathen,” Rowan bitched, mostly so he wouldn’t give in to the tears threatening. “Thank you. I love it. I love you,” he added impulsively and kissed Jordy in thanks.
“My turn,” Jordy said breathlessly once Rowan finally released him.
“It’s a bit of a letdown after this.” Rowan didn’t have the funds to spend what was probably a good thousand dollars—the bag alone could cost that much, and Rowan was pretty sure the hat and scarf were cashmere.
Jordy gave Rowan an unimpressed look, then unwrapped the small flat box. Rowan had agonized for the past three weeks what to get his friend/employer/unrequited love and had finally settled on something that would help him build happy memories with Kaira—a family pass to the science museum.
“I got the one for two adults, since I’m sure you’ll want to add the new nanny—”
Jordy cut him off with his lips.
“It’s perfect,” he said, and well, Rowan had to agree. Perfect was definitely the best way to sum up the day.
BOXING DAY went marginally better in that Kaira had enough energy to open the rest of her presents and didn’t vomit on anyone or anything, but she still spent the day eating soup, drinking as much Pedialyte as they could force into her, and watching Christmas movies.
Jordy went back to work on the twenty-seventh, but since it was an away game in Seattle, he was hardly gone much longer than if it had been a home game.
Then Kaira was feeling well enough to leave the house, and they filled their days with family activities in between Jordy’s practices and games.
By some miracle the Orcas weren’t playing on the thirtieth or thirty-first, though they had a New Year’s Day matinee. The two days off inspired Ryan to extend two invitations—a team New Year’s Eve party on the thirty-first and free babysitting the day before.
Or as the text he sent Jordy put it, Bro, let the hubby and me watch the kid while you take your boo out to dinner. He deserves to be wined and dined after taking your kid on a transcontinental flight.
That was the least of what Rowan deserved, but Jordy hardly had time to whisk him away for a romantic weekend in Whistler, and even if he had, it wasn’t as though Jordy could’ve skied or snowboarded. Besides, he couldn’t justify spending a whole night away from Kaira when he’d just gotten her back in his time zone.
Instead, he settled for a chilly romantic walk through VanDusen Park to see the light displays, and then a nice dinner out.
Or—he tried to settle for that, but as soon as they took their seats at the second-floor table Jordy had reserved at Tap the less said about it the better—Rowan slouched into a seat and prepared to wait.
He texted Gem. Please have biggest bottle of wine and tub of salted caramel ice cream ready.
For goodness sake , came Gem’s answer. What now?
Rowan swallowed hard and risked the inevitable I-told-you-so. I love them.
Because it really was about both of them. Rowan loved Jordy with a passion he’d never known, but he’d been equally blindsided by the depth of his affection for Kaira.
Yes, and?
Rowan could practically hear her talons impatiently drumming on a table.
And leaving them hurts.
A few interminable seconds ticked by before Gem’s reply appeared. So why are you doing it?
Rowan huffed and shoved his phone back into his bag—his new leather messenger bag—and glared out the airport window. Didn’t Gem think Rowan wanted to stay? But it wasn’t that simple. Rowan had a life in Toronto—friends, Gem, a dream job he’d only just started. What was he going to do, just say fuck it and move in with Jordy? Play house with him and his kid and do… what?
He couldn’t give up the stability that he’d worked so hard for just for the sake of maybes. He couldn’t run away from reality to live on love. That wasn’t a thing. His job was real, was safe, and Jordy and Kaira were just a—a fantasy .
God, Rowan probably could have dreamt them into existence. A single dad with a half-desi baby and the ability to fuck Rowan into the wall? The stuff of Rowan’s fantasies.
All of it was…
Like trips to the museum and adorable hockey jerseys and—
Vomit at five a.m.… Jordy freaking out thousands of miles away. Footprints in the snow. Failed love confessions in dark kitchens. No nannies. Temper tantrums and wet beds.
Okay, all of that had been real, but it wasn’t glamorous and wasn’t exactly points for the win column.
Was it?
He thought about Christmas, about waking up to literal vomit and sending a half-asleep Jordy out to a drugstore twenty minutes away for emergency supplies, about sitting snuggled on the couch for most of the day, and their holiday feast of chicken soup.
It was the best holiday he’d ever had. Bar none. None of the extravagant lonely holidays of his childhood or the performative parties his parents had put on for friends could compete. Nor could any of the poor holidays he’d stumbled through with friends or Gem after he left home.
One week ago was the best family holiday of his life, puke and all. Maybe even because of it, because it was so, so real and not a fantasy, and holy crap—
“What the fuck am I doing?”
The family sitting across from him jerked in surprise; the parents glared, but the two preteens smiled at Rowan in delight.
The older one snapped her gum and shrugged. “I don’t know, man, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Casey,” their father reprimanded.
Rowan laughed. “Making the biggest mistake of my life.” He stood and saluted the kids. “Happy traveling, folks.” Then he headed for the exit.
JORDY GOT through the pregame meeting on autopilot because he had a decade of experience. His heart wasn’t in it.
His heart was in pieces—one across town with her nanny, one probably somewhere over the Rockies by now.
But he’d heal. Right? His heart had been broken before. Hell, he was divorced. Surely his divorce had been worse than this.
Except it hadn’t. That had ended amicably. He’d been sad but not devastated. Not—
“Chin up, Shaw.” Ryan nudged his skate. “You can mope after we win the game. Let’s get on the ice.”
Jordy let his D-partner pull him to his feet and headed down the tunnel. Exercise would take his mind off it.
The scent of the ice didn’t cure everything, but it loosened something in his chest. Jordy’s legs carried him forward. The echo of skates on ice settled something in his head. He made a loop around the ice, let the speed of it whip his hair back. The cold helped. It hurt, but he could—
He was crossing behind the Orcas’ net, reaching out to snag a puck from the pile, when he saw the sign.
Home Team’s New #1 Fan
Jordy knew that writing. He’d seen it on his grocery list.
He raised his eyes.
Rowan stood on the other side of the glass, wearing his jersey and the cashmere hat Jordy had bought him for Christmas.
His feet stopped moving. His hand moved toward the glass without his conscious input.
On the other side of the glass, Rowan’s moved too.
He was supposed to be halfway to Toronto. He was supposed to be gone.
Home Team’s New #1 Fan
The scattered pieces of Jordy’s heart rushed back to his chest and thudded loudly. He could hardly breathe.
Rowan was biting down on what Jordy desperately hoped was a smile.
Someone snowed to a stop next to him and checked his shoulder. “Hey. You warm enough yet?”
Right, he had a job to do. “Can we…?” he started.
Nico clapped his helmet and nudged him back toward the drills. “After warmups,” he said. “Ryan’s sending someone for him.”
Jordy could only imagine he looked like an idiot for the rest of warmups. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Rowan. Every time he glanced over, he found Rowan’s gaze on him. He was really here. He hadn’t left.
“Oh my God, you’ve forgotten where the net is,” said his D-partner. He gave Jordy an admittedly deserved facewash.
He didn’t seem particularly upset about it.
Finally they were called off the ice. Jordy practically tossed his stick into the rack and sprinted down the tunnel toward the locker room.
For a second, he was convinced he’d imagined the whole thing. And then Rowan stepped out of the hallway past the dressing room and suddenly it was the rest of the world that wasn’t quite real.
“Hi,” Rowan said shyly. The sign had disappeared, along with most of Jordy’s sense.
“Hi,” he said back, feeling stupid. “What, uh. What are you doing here?”
Rowan tugged at his earlobe and cleared his throat. “Well, you know, I thought—I’ve heard rent in Vancouver is very expensive—”
Jordy stared at him.
Rowan snapped his mouth shut and changed tack. “I have spent my entire adult life trying to build myself a home.” He took a step forward. Jordy’s hands itched to take his, but he couldn’t move. “I saved and I sacrificed and I finally got a job that I love and an apartment that I still haven’t slept in, and it was supposed to make me happy.”
Surely he didn’t miss his flight to tell Jordy he was still leaving? He wouldn’t be so cruel.
“And it did,” Rowan said. He was smiling a little now. His hands found Jordy’s. “When I quit it.”
Jordy’s mouth went dry.
“I spent so much time and energy trying to build a home. But home’s not a place, it’s people. It’s you and Kaira and—and me, if you’ll have me.”
Jordy dropped his hands and pulled him into a kiss by his face.
It didn’t go further than that, not with the game in twenty minutes and Jordy’s teammates just around the corner. But it felt good, right, to kiss Rowan like this here and finally make a public statement of what he’d been feeling for months. As indulgent as his teammates were, Jordy knew his coach would give him only so much leeway.
“So,” Rowan panted when the kiss broke, “that’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes,” Jordy confirmed.
“Oh good,” Rowan said breathlessly. “’Cause once I break my lease, I am going to be super broke.”
IF POSSIBLE, Rowan took in even less of this hockey game than he had any of the previous ones. He also enjoyed it the most. Quite possibly every other fan in the building thought he was deranged because he couldn’t stop smiling, even when the Orcas allowed a goal against, but he consoled himself that they would’ve been grinning like a fool too if the love of their life had just snogged the daylights out of them in the bowels of a hockey arena.
When the game ended, a team employee fetched Rowan from the stands and led him back down to the dressing room, and Jordy drove them home.
Home. Where their room was, and the throw blanket Jordy had bought for Rowan in New York City, and Kaira.
His family.
But when they turned onto Jordy’s street, Rowan’s stomach twisted into knots. “What if she’s still upset? What if she thinks I’m going to leave again?”
Jordy’s hand covered his on the center console. “Then we’ll prove you aren’t.”
Sure. No problem.
Jordy squeezed his fingers. “Rowan, she loves you. It’s going to be okay. Remember how upset she was you were leaving? She’ll be just as excited knowing you’re going to stay.”
Rowan tried to believe him, but his nervous heart wouldn’t be convinced—not until Jordy opened the door to the house and said, “Kaira? There’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” Kaira demanded from out of sight.
“Come see,” Jordy laughed, though Kaira’s dramatic sigh was still loud enough to be heard.
“Rowan!” she screamed when she rounded the corner and came into view. She didn’t hesitate but ran full tilt toward him. “Rowan!”
He crouched and caught her, pulling her close and burying his face into her tangled hair. “Hello, poppet.”
“Rowan, Rowan, Rowan,” she gasped and clutched him. “You’re here. You didn’t leave.”
“No, I didn’t. And I’m not ever going to.”
Kaira pulled back and looked him squarely in the eye. “Promise?”
“Promise,” he choked out, but then couldn’t force out anything else.
“Promise,” Jordy said, crouching next to them. “Rowan is staying here. He’s going to live with us. Be a family with us.”
Kaira pondered this. “Does that mean he’s going to be my papa for real?”
Rowan’s brain record scratched to a halt.
“For real?” Jordy asked curiously.
Kaira nodded. “People keep calling him my daddy, but I tell them he’s not my daddy, you are. Ms. Jansen asked if he was Papa then, but I said he’s just Rowan.” She sighed like adults were confusing.
“But you liked the idea of Rowan being Papa?” Jordy didn’t sound pressuring, only deeply curious about her own feelings. Rowan wished Jordy would give him a clue.
“Yeah, Then I’d have two parents like other kids, and Rowan is a good dad. He’s better at reading stories than you, Daddy.”
“Well,” Jordy said grinning, “if he’s better at story time….” He caught Rowan’s eye, radiating joy and satisfaction.
And maybe his own surging joy and adrenaline were to blame for what he said next. “You know, the Urdu word for daddy is baba .”
“Baba,” Kaira said, testing it out.
Rowan wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“I think it suits him, don’t you, Kaira?”
She nodded and planted a smacking kiss to his cheek. “You’re a perfect baba.”
“Guess it’s good I’m sticking around, then. And will have lots of free time for the next few weeks, because I don’t have a job or money or even enough clothes to last me beyond a week.”
“That’s okay.” Jordy shrugged and helped them both off the floor. Kaira refused to loosen her grip on Rowan’s neck, so he balanced her on his hip. “You can take your time finding a job, or just stay home all day and buy new clothes using my credit card. I’ve got money to share.”
“You better,” Rowan said, suddenly sounding way more serious than he intended. “Share, that is. I’m trusting you to keep me safe here.”
“Always,” Jordy vowed. “There’s nothing I want more than to keep you both happy and safe and loved.”
Rowan was not going to cry. Again. “Sap.”
Jordy kissed him softly, sweetly. “Proudly.”
For several long beats, they just stood in the hallway, basking in the love and satisfaction of finally officially being a family. Naturally Kaira broke the silence.
“Baba, can we make cookies?”
“Can we make cookies. Poppet, we can always make cookies.” Rowan set her down on the floor and happily let her drag him into the kitchen, laughing as she described the cookies she wanted to make. Something about chocolate unicorn sparkles?
There was so much that needed doing, planning. They would have to call Gem to get the packing and shipping sorted, and the house in Toronto needed selling, not to mention figuring out what Sandy’s new duties and schedule would look like—though Rowan could already hear Jordy holding back to reassure her that her contract wasn’t being canceled or her salary changed, the same promise he’d made Rowan on the drive home—but for now, Rowan just wanted to be a family and have fun with his Kaira.
They’d pulled out all the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies and set them on the counter when Jordy joined them. He watched as they measured the flour, then suddenly said, “You know, there’s one easy way to keep you both safe and happy no matter what life brings at us, trades and all.”
“Oh?”
“We should get married.”
Rowan dropped the measuring cup full of flour onto the floor.
Then he kissed Jordy’s dumb beautiful face while Kaira collapsed into giggles.