Chapter Sixteen
Dylan
The camping trip was finally happening. Over three months late and a hell of a lot harder to schedule than it should have been, but we’d gotten here. Three days, just me and Hunter, and they were going by faster than I wanted them to.
We’d spent them fishing off a dock, hiking through the woods, getting eaten alive by mosquitos, and watching the sun go down over the Bay. We’d roasted hot dogs and marshmallows and stayed up later than we should have.
And I’d been present for all of it in a way I hadn’t managed to be for most of his life—each moment feeling more significant than the last.
We were fishing when it first hit me how fast he was maturing. I saw it in the way his jaw set when he was working something out, the way he went quiet instead of complaining.
He’d cast badly three times in a row, then on the fourth try he’d adjusted his grip without being told and put the line exactly where he wanted it.
“There you go,” I said.
The knit of his brow smoothed and he gave me a guarded smile. “I watched what you were doing.”
“That’s good. That’s how you learn.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching the water. “Eric says I overthink things.”
“Eric’s not wrong.” I kept my eyes on my line. “But overthinking and paying attention aren’t the same thing. You were paying attention.”
He chewed on that for a while. So did I.
The hike on day two had nearly killed him. Not because he wasn’t fit, but because he’d talked the entire way up and saved nothing for the climb. By the time we hit the ridge he was breathing too hard to speak, which was the quietest he’d been all weekend.
“Worth it?” I asked, looking out over the tree line.
He took in the view, chest heaving. “Yeah.”
I handed him a water bottle, and we stood in silence for a while. It felt like he’d finally decided I was someone safe enough to be still around. He didn’t need to fill every second with chatter.
Now it was the last night, and the fire was burning low between us.
Hunter had a stick in his hand and was poking at the embers, sending up sparks that died before they reached the lowest branches of the trees. He’d burned his hot dog twice at dinner and eaten it anyway, and I hadn’t said a word about it.
Fuck, he was a great kid.
It still hurt that Jamie had raised my boy in the big city, far removed from my small-town life in Copper Ridge.
But regretting the time I’d missed wasn’t going to give it back.
Having him here now was what mattered, and after working so goddamn hard for it, there was no way in hell I’d let it go to waste.
Every minute with him counted.
Jamie and Eric were home from their honeymoon. I’d barely thought about either of them all weekend. Whatever grip Jamie had on me, it was loosening. Not gone. But loosening.
My only concern was my son.
A lot had changed in not much more than a year. He’d grown up practically overnight. His messy blond hair hung in his eyes now and his feet were three sizes too big for his body.
I just hoped with all the changes—moving here, his mom remarrying, on the verge of becoming a teenager—he wasn’t feeling out of place.
“You happy, bud?”
“Yeah, Dad. You were right. Camping is pretty cool.”
Camping was pretty cool. He might not have grown up with it, but at least he could appreciate it now, and that made for a pretty perfect weekend in my book.
Well, almost perfect.
Jamie had wanted me to leave my phone on for emergencies, but the goddamn thing hadn’t stopped lighting up. I’d ignored it most of the weekend, sticking it in my new truck to keep it from interrupting.
“Dad?” Hunter tried to mask a yawn and failed.
He’d been holding off sleep for a while now, and I was fine with that. The end of the evening signaled the end of our weekend, and I wanted to draw out our time together as long as we could.
“Yeah, bud?”
He poked the fire again. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you happy?” He didn’t duck his head when he asked the question. Didn’t look away or become awkward.
My kid—my fucking amazing goddamn kid—stared me in the eye, concern written all over his face.
Every time I thought I couldn’t love him any more, he went and proved me wrong. “I’ve never been happier than I am right now.” And at that moment, it was the truth.
After another few minutes of stifled yawns, Hunter finally called it a night. He muttered something inaudible that might have been good night and stumbled toward the tent, leaving me alone with the dying fire.
I leaned back and looked up at the sky. Dark and peaceful, and for once I didn’t mind the quiet. But clamoring at the back of my mind was the thought of my phone and all those missed messages.
Finally, I gave in, left the fire to smolder, and stepped up into the truck.
Twenty-two text messages and one missed call. Guilt hit immediately—had I missed something important?
All the texts were from Sean. Every single one a come-on.
How’s your shower?
Ready for round 2?
I miss the taste of your cum.
No hello. No how are you. Just innuendo and outright sexting, including one shadowy picture of his hand fisted around his swollen cock.
I’d like to say I deleted them without a second thought.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I crawled into the back seat and jerked off to his dirty words, a fuzzy photo, and the memory of how fucking fantastic his mouth had felt sucking me off.
Maybe I should have felt guilty about my lack of self-control, but it was hard to feel bad when I’d just come in my own hand.
I cleaned up quickly and returned to the fire, acting like nothing had happened.
Even with no one around to question me, I felt like I’d done something wrong.
Like it mattered that I’d gotten off to thoughts of another man.
That I’d locked myself away and given into temptation while my son was in his tent, sleeping peacefully.
I studied the glowing embers and wondered if I’d ever get back full control of my life, or if this self-denial was just part of having a kid.
My phone buzzed from my pocket, reminding me of the missed call and the voicemail still waiting.
I leaned back into my chair and listened to it.
Chantel’s voice melted through the phone, every curled R like a finger beckoning.
“Hello, chéri. I thought you might like to know they’ve made me official.
My doctor title is now the real deal. Also, you should know I stole your shirt.
I plan to wear it tonight while I’m celebrating with a bottle of wine and my vibrator. ”
Twenty seconds. That was all. But it was twenty seconds of pure bliss, her beautiful accent wrapping around me, and suddenly I wished I’d listened to this first, before looking at Sean’s texts.
But I was already spent. And as I sat there listening to Chantel’s message again, something quiet settled in my mind.
Sean was a reaction. Chantel was a hunger.
He pushed my boundaries, challenged my control, and made me feel like the guy I used to be, before I’d turned responsible. She made me feel like the guy I might become—still me, just a better, happier version.
Deep down, a part of me wanted them both.
But having both wasn’t an option for a guy like me. I couldn’t keep two lovers who didn’t know about each other. I hadn’t made promises to either of them, and already, I felt like I was cheating.
Eventually, I’d have to choose.
The thought shoved me sideways into another one I'd been avoiding for a long time.
Jamie.
She'd been the shape of my whole adult self. The axis everything else rotated around. I'd built my career, my reputation, even my decision to stay in Copper Ridge, around the possibility that she might one day come back to me.
But sitting here by a dying fire, my son asleep a few feet away and Chantel's voice still in my head, I couldn't remember the last time Jamie had made me feel anything but tired.
Had what I felt for her all these years ever really been love? Maybe it was just damage leftover from a dream I didn't know how to let go of. A scar I picked at until it bled, calling the blood proof I still cared.
Maybe that’s why I couldn't choose between Sean and Chantel, either. Because for the first time in my life, both options in front of me were real. Neither of them was a comfort from my past. Neither of them was a wound I'd trained myself to mistake for a home.
And the idea of moving on to something unknown, something out of my control, scared the shit out of me.
Still, something in me was waking up, turning restless. Demanding more.
All I had to do was make up my mind and go for it.