Chapter 46 Sullivan
SULLIVAN
“You want me to take door duty for a while?” Jenson asks, gesturing to the hallway that leads out from the main bar area of Seasons, where we are, and toward the sidewalk entrance.
“You want to be on the street dressed in that?” Killian smirks.
Jenson scratches at the giant fluffy tummy on his bear outfit with a shrug. “The single moms will dig it, man. This suit’s going to do wonders for my game.”
“If the game involves Molly’s future pre-k friends’ moms, then you aren’t playing,” I grumble.
“She doesn’t even start for another year,” Jenson complains.
“And I’ve had her on the waiting list since she was three months’ old. It’s the best pre-K in the city, and your dick won’t be doing anything that might affect my daughter’s future education. The last thing I need is one of her future friends having an aggrieved mother because you screwed up.”
“Hey, I resent that. I’m a great boyfriend. You could be keeping me from my future wife,” Jenson pipes up.
“Uh-huh... In that case, you can date whichever mother you want.”
“Really?” He raises both brows at me.
“When Molly turns eighteen,” I clip.
Killian and Denver burst into chuckles.
“But yeah, take the door and greet the guests as they arrive. Thanks for offering.” I clap him on the shoulder and give him a wink.
“Dunno why I like you, man,” he mutters before ambling away in slow, wide steps, the round tail of his costume bobbing behind him.
“He drew the short straw, huh?”
“We made sure all Jenson’s straws were short,” Denver rumbles with a smirk.
“He wanted to win really. He was born to play that part. He’ll be loving getting all sweaty in all those pounds of synthetic fur. We did him a solid.” Killian chuckles, holding out his fist for Denver to bump it.
Jenson makes it almost all the way to the doorway before losing his footing in the giant paws of his costume and stacking it spectacularly.
We watch as he rolls over onto his back, but the awkwardness of his costume prevents him from getting back on his feet.
“Someone should help him,” Denver says.
“Someone should,” Killian agrees.
They both snort with laughter as Jenson waves his arms in the air trying to get momentum to swing back onto his feet. Molly runs over to him and throws herself on his belly.
“Bear!” she shrieks in delight, bouncing up and down on him until he’s coughing and laughing at the same time.
“All right, Mol. This bear needs to go and greet your friends. Make sure they know where the best party of the year is at.”
Molly slides off his belly and tugs at his sleeve as he rolls onto his knees and manages to climb to his feet by gripping onto the doorframe.
“I’m expecting a giant bonus for this,” he quips, shooting us all a look.
“Maybe the Boss will put a nice little pot of honey in your next paycheck,” Killian says.
“Whatever, man. Just you wait. This bear’s going to be getting a whole different kind of honey.” He ruffles Molly’s hair and plods out.
“You really think women are going to fall for the costume?” Killian asks.
“Jenson will make sure that they do,” Denver replies.
“Yeah. Lucky fucker. He never has any issues. Must be the baby face. You two will be having your own parties like this before me.”
Denver’s eyes slide guiltily to mine at Killian’s comment, but I keep my mouth firmly clamped shut. Denver’s been one of the family for years. He’s my father’s most trusted hire and has become a friend.
But I still don’t need the image of him and Sinclair in my head.
The guy’s built like a wrestler, and three times the width of my sister. But she’s never smiled as much as she has since he came back to work again and declared that he loved her, and was going to be with her, whether we liked it or not.
Bold move. Lucky for him, it worked.
Molly races past me, back over to the door as a large bunny-shaped balloon is brought through it. But it’s not the balloon that’s got her running.
“Tate!” she squeals, flinging her arms up in the air.
She’s whisked up into the air, her face half-covered by auburn hair as she’s hugged fiercely.
My lungs cease to work, leaving me bereft of the oxygen I so badly need.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart pumping erratically.
“Jesus,” I choke under my breath as I watch two of the most important women in my life greet one another after months apart.
“Daddy! Look!” Molly calls, the excitement in her voice making my mouth dry.
I’ve kept them apart. Me. I did this. I’m responsible for the watery blue eyes and tremble in Tate’s voice that she tries to hide as she wishes my daughter a happy birthday and embraces her like she’s the most precious thing in her world.
Like she loves her.
Because she does.
She told me as much. And then I went and screwed everything up and we all suffered.
“You okay?” Denver asks quietly.
“Yeah.”
I continue staring at the two of them, soaking in their happiness that’s radiating around them as bright as the damn sun.
Tate looks up over Molly’s shoulder, and the second our eyes connect it’s like all the air in the world has rushed back into my lungs at once.
I can breathe again.
“Tate?” I stride over with purpose, needing to close the gap between us, but the pinch at the corners of her eyes makes me halt.
She lowers Molly to the ground and hands her a ribbon-handled gift bag.
“I brought you a little something,” she says, lowering her eyes to Molly like she can’t bring herself to look at me.
“Thank you,” Molly says, turning all serious as she reaches inside the bag and pulls out a stuffed rabbit.
“She’s the same color as Bumper,” Tate tells Molly as my daughter strokes the creamy fur. “And she has a surprise in her tummy.”
Molly turns the bunny over and pulls open a pouch on its stomach. Three small bunnies in varying colors spill out.
“Baby bunnies!” Molly grins, scooping them up and rushing off, calling out for Halliday and my father who are on the far side of the room chatting with Uncle Mal and Aunt Trudy.
Tate hovers like she’s unsure what to do. I want to pull her into my arms and greet her properly. Sink my nose into her hair and fill it with the scent of her, instead of having to make do with just the memory of it. Kiss her soft lips. The lips that held me together the last time I saw her.
I want to tell her how I feel about her.
“I wouldn’t have recognized it in here. It looks amazing,” Tate exclaims, her gaze roaming around the animal jungle themed décor that I hired one of the city’s top event management companies to create. “It’s like being inside Molly’s favorite book.”
She bites her lip, like she’s regretting her words, but also doesn’t know what else to say. What’s safe to bring up, and what isn’t.
“It is,” I agree, trying to convey with my tone that she doesn’t need to worry. Nothing is off-limits anymore. There are no more secrets.
“And one day she’ll understand why it’s her favorite,” I add.
Tate’s eyes widen. “You’re going to tell her?”
“Eventually.”
It’s something I’ve thought about a great deal over the past month. This secret was only ever something myself and all of my family have kept because it was protecting Molly.
“I always intended to tell her when she was an adult. But now Natasha is no longer with us, maybe that day will come sooner, if I think she’s ready,” I tell Tate.
“You’re her father. You’ll know when the time’s right.”
Tate’s words and faith in me come so easily, making me look at her with a mix of intense adoration and tenderness, that I’m sure conveys exactly what I want to tell her. At least, I must be looking at her like that because she rubs the back of her neck and looks away like she feels awkward.
“How have you been?” she asks, flicking her eyes to mine, then away again.
“I’ve—”
Before I can tell her the truth—that I’ve missed her every damn day, but that as much of a mess as I am without her, everything else is slowly coming together, and that I’ve started seeing a grief counsellor—Sinclair arrives, brimming with excitement.
“Oh wow! You’re Tate the cookie baker.”
She pulls Tate into a hug and lets out a little squeal.
“I’ve only heard about you recently because my brother is a huge doofus and kept you all to himself.
” She tosses a mock dirty look my way, before turning to Tate with a grin.
“But I can’t wait to hang out. And you need to meet Halliday.
You’re going to love her. She’s into crystals and matching energies and stuff. It’s so interesting. Magical.”
Tate’s lips part, but she clamps them shut again, throwing me a genuine smile as Sinclair leads her away.
And just like that, Tate meets my family.
She’s all smiles and laughs, her shoulders softening more by the second as Sinclair introduces her to everyone.
She becomes one of us seamlessly, slotting into the place I never knew was sitting empty, just waiting for her.
The room fills as some of Molly’s future classmates and their parents I’ve connected with to ease her transition into pre-K arrive. And Arabella comes in, armed with more gifts from the team at work.
The party roars to life.
I stand, like a human island in the middle of it all.
The excited squeals muffle into white noise.
The decorations and balloons all blur and merge like a kaleidoscope.
All I see, hear, and feel is her. Back in the same room as me.
Back in my life where she belongs.
“You okay, Son?”
My father’s strong palm on my shoulder brings with it a sense of calm, and I inhale slowly.
I look up from behind the bar where I’m making a coffee and take in the party. Everyone’s having a great time. The entertainer I hired is busy making balloon animals. And all of the children now resemble different creatures, courtesy of the face paint artist who’s here.
“Have you spoken to her?” he asks.
“Not since she arrived.” I sigh, dropping my gaze away from where Tate’s talking animatedly to Molly and admiring the rabbit whiskers on her cheeks.
“She’s been popular.” My father chuckles.
“Everyone who meets her loves her,” I mumble, reaching for the sugar.
“Everyone loves her, huh?” my father muses, arching a knowing brow at me.
I shake my head with a frown. “Halliday’s turned you into a romantic.”
“I always was one. It just took Hallie to bring it out.”
I nod in understanding. I know my father never loved my mother the way he loves Halliday.
But he tried. For years he was the best husband and father he could be.
And my mother gambled with it all by having an affair with Neil.
We’ll never know what would have happened if she hadn’t died that day.
But I can be certain that my father’s eyes wouldn’t sparkle the way they do whenever he says Halliday’s name.
“Don’t let opportunities pass you, Son. I know something worth fighting for when I see it.” His eyes track to where Sinclair’s wrapped around Denver’s side, whispering something into his ear.
My chest tightens, the way it has every time Tate’s looked up and caught me staring at her. But she’s never come over. It’s like she doesn’t want to talk to me.
“I don’t know what she’s thinking,” I confess, hating that I’m showing weakness. I always get my own way in business. I’m the one that’s in control. The one with the upper hand. The one who always knows the outcome will be in my favor. Because I won’t allow it not to be.
“She’s here isn’t she? She came,” my father says. “And if that doesn’t tell you enough, then just ask her.”
“That easy?” I snort, knowing full well this is one outcome I’m not in control of.
He claps me on the shoulder again. “It’s as hard as you want to make it, Son.”
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Find a way that speaks to her.”
He moves away and I look up, seeing the reason for his smooth departure.
“The kids are having a great time.” Tate smiles shyly from the other side of the bar, curling her hands around the edge of it and gripping on like she’s glad of its presence. It’s like a barrier shielding her from any more hurt I can cause her.
“They are,” I agree.
“Are you?”
Her question catches me off guard, and I look into her eyes. She isn’t looking away anymore. She’s looking right at me like my answer means something.
“I have a photo of Slade out on display in our apartment.”
Her brows pop up. “You do?”
“A few, actually.”
She smiles softly. “I’m glad.”
“You should come over? See what’s different and…”
I run my tongue over my teeth, unable to finish due to the way her lips part like she’s moments away from thinking up an excuse. But then my father’s words ring in my ears and I take a deep breath, remembering who I am.
“I want you to come back around,” I say, holding her gaze without apology. “I want you to come and cook with us again. Bathe Molly with me. Read to her with me. I want you back in both of our lives. And this time I won’t ever try and make you walk out of it again.”
“Sull—”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to show you how much I mean that.”
I continue what I’m doing, aware of her gaze on my face as I fix the coffee, then slide the mug toward her.
“Forgive me,” I say.
“I already have,” she whispers, her eyes shining. “It’s not about that, it’s…”
Her gaze drops to the cup and a smile that squeezes at my heart tilts her lips as she looks at the smiley cocoa face in the foam.
“My cup’s been half empty without you. My life’s felt half empty without you. You are more beautiful to me than any song ever written,” I add in a rough whisper, repeating the words I said to her the night she needed me after hearing her song on the radio.
“I’ve held you while you cried. You’ve held me while I cried. And… Tate?”
She blinks through unshed tears and looks at me.
“I want us to hold each other again.” I drop my voice to a strained whisper. “Please.”
She blinks hard, her lower lip wobbling. “I…”
“Time to sing to the birthday girl!” the entertainer announces. “Where’s Daddy? Can you come over here?”
I raise my hand and signal I’m coming.
When I turn back, Tate’s already leaving.
The smiley face on her coffee leers at me in disgust.
You think she’ll forgive you that easily? Think again, asshole.