Chapter Eleven
Cameron
“I’m nervous.” I tugged at my sweater.
“Baby.” Jasper pressed his nose to my cheek. “As you said, Kade told them. Donna couldn’t stop crying.”
“Right?”
“In happiness. That her third chickadee had found his mate. Her words.” Jasper grinned, repeating Kade’s words.
He and Tanner had come extra early so his parents could have some time with June before Nita, Rohit, and their rowdy twins arrived. Although all three babies were the same age, June was clearly a step behind. So my parents showered her with extra love whenever they could.
All three of the kids would be spoiled rotten as this was their first official Christmas.
Nita’s twins had been mere days old last year. Kade and Tanner hadn’t adopted June until March. Oh, and today was her first birthday. I’d bought a special present to give her tomorrow. She deserved her own special day, and so we’d designated Boxing Day as her birthday.
“Baby, it’s cold out here. Are we going to stand here all day? Because something tells me you usually just walk—”
The door opened on a whoosh.
An uncommonly tall woman stood before me. She had spikey purple hair, soft-blue eyes, and the biggest smile. “You must be Jasper.” She held out her arms, clearly unconcerned I might reject her affection.
I didn’t hesitate. “Hello, Donna.”
Though Kade, she’d sent the message we were either Donna and Rob or Mom and Dad.
Maybe someday I might be able to make that leap.
Today, though, I was still too nervous.
“Oh, my boy. So happy you’re here.” She hugged me tightly, then pulled back. “Now, how was Jeremiah? Behaving?”
I blinked. “I didn’t know Cameron’s father didn’t always behave.” The man was distinguished, handsome, and a little scary.
We’d eaten Christmas brunch, joining Nanny, Bops, Ryan, and Simeon. Yes, Simeon’s grandparents insisted I call them Nanny and Bops. As apparently everyone did.
Therapy dog Chia sat placidly at our feet, quite content to watch all the goings-on at the retirement home.
Cameron chuckled. “She’s teasing. He sends his love.” He pressed a kiss to Donna’s cheek.
Every year she invited Jeremiah.
Every year he declined.
My boyfriend worried about his father’s deteriorating health.
Jeremiah assured me he planned to stick around until at least Cameron was married, if not with kids. He’d let that little bombshell drop while his son had been talking to Ryan.
I’d blinked.
He’d winked. And assured me he didn’t give two shits if his son was gay.
Happy.
He just wanted Cameron happy.
Apparently, I made him so, and therefore I passed muster.
“Hey, come inside.” A jolly-looking man with graying-brown hair stepped into the entryway. “Good to see you, son.” He clapped Cameron on the upper arm. Then he pivoted to me and held out his hand. “Rob. Or Dad. Either works.”
I shook his hand.
In that moment, something opened inside of me. Something I’d held close to my chest for a very long time. “Thanks…Dad.” I glanced at Donna. “Uh, Mom.”
She blinked. “Oh, I’m going to love having another chickadee.”
Before she explained her comment, she hustled inside and disappeared.
I met Cameron’s gaze.
He blinked a couple of times.
And so went the rest of the afternoon.
This sense of unreality. Like I was seeing my entire life playing out before me. Loved by Donna, Rob, and all their kids. Uncle to the babies.
And potentially father to one or two of my own.
Cameron had said little things a couple of times now. Not to put pressure on me—our relationship was way too new for that. But just statements that let me know he was open to having kids, but would be okay if we decided not to.
We had made two huge decisions.
Which, given this relationship was only twelve days old, felt monumental.
Over breakfast, Cameron said he wanted me to move in.
Then he passed me a mug of coffee as if he hadn’t just rocked my world.
I waited six-point-eight seconds before accepting.
I didn’t want to seem too keen.
Then, over brunch, he’d asked Ryan about therapy training for dogs. And since Chia was a rescue, how had she adapted.
Simeon had cocked his head.
Cameron dropped that he was thinking of getting a dog.
I’d shared my dream of one day having a dog about a week ago. But lamented I couldn’t in my apartment, and it would be tough to have a dog by myself—although for the right rescue, I’d work it out.
When we’d been over at Rayne and Everett’s three nights ago, Cameron had casually mentioned wanting a dog as well. But that he also had concerns about leaving the dog home alone all day.
To which Rayne, apparently having overheard us, said Champ was fine alone all day as long as he got lots of attention from his daddies when they got home.
Everett had rolled his eyes.
And grinned.
Okay. So fourteen days ago, I’d been single and crushing on my badminton partner.
I’d found the courage to coax FP into inviting Cameron to the bonfire.
You might want to tell Cameron about that before FP spills the beans.
Tonight. At home alone. Hopefully he’d be flattered and not annoyed.
Right.
Tanner plopped June in my lap.
I gripped her tightly as she stared up at me, apparently equally startled. I expected her to start squawking at being unceremoniously placed in the arms of someone she didn’t know.
As she held me captive with her soft-blue eyes, though, she reached out her hands.
I moved my head closer.
She grasped my cheeks.
I smiled.
She placed a kiss to my nose.
Or what I took to be a kiss. What did I know about one-year-olds? Maybe she thought she might be able to lick something off or something.
I continued to smile.
She continued to hold my gaze.
I swallowed. And blinked.
Yeah. This. There have to be other kids out there like you who need two loving daddies. Maybe not babies. Maybe older kids. Maybe kids who look like me. Maybe kids who look like my boyfriend. Maybe kids who don’t look like either of us.
Just…kids.
I wanted that. And I needed to find the courage to be honest with Cameron.
Speaking of…
He gently eased himself onto the couch next to me.
June lit up and held her arms out to him.
He scooped her up, held her over his head, and then lowered her slowly, giving her a raspberry on her cheek when she was close enough.
I sniffed diffidently. “Completely abandoned.”
“For her favorite Uncle Cameron? You bet.” He grinned. Then he gazed over at me. “Give her time. You looked pretty cozy. I suspect one day she’ll love her Uncle Jasper.”
This child will never not have the love of a roomful of people.
My parents had cared for me, in their own way, but had been just as happy to leave me to my own devices and to do their own things.
Amazing I’d turned out as well-adjusted as I had.
Still, I gave them silent thanks for having kept me safe. For having given me the beginnings to become the man I was today.
The man Cameron loved.
“Family photo.” Donna bellowed the words. “I’ve got the stand for the camera with a timer. Everyone gather around Cameron and Jasper.”
Okay, like no chance of escape.
And I didn’t want one.
That photo sat on the mantel of our fireplace for the rest of our lives.