Chapter 13 #3
I still liked to cause chaos and have fun every now and then, but I’d spent more time hanging out with friends and making trips back to my hometown.
It was how I’d really connected with Paula and formed a stronger friendship with her.
Sorrow bloomed to life in my chest once again. Losing her hurt, left a rawness behind I wasn’t sure would ever fully heal.
She’d been a good friend. A sister.
When she’d first spoken to me about insemination, no doubt about it, I’d freaked. My instinct had been to balk and say no.
In fact, that’s exactly what I’d said.
It was only when she’d told me about her medical conditions that would impact her ability to have a kid, and the docs telling her that it would be likely she’d need a hysterectomy before she reached twenty-four that I’d relented.
Fuck, she’d been young.
Stubborn too.
And so damn determined and passionate.
Mikey stirred behind me. A quick check on him and his scrunched-up face, and a rush of emotion swept through me.
Mikey was never meant to be mine.
A burning stab clenched my heart at the thought of never having this.
The thought dragged guilt with it, thick and fast, knowing the only reason we were here together was because of Paula’s death.
I exhaled a shuddery breath, trying to release the conflicted emotions constantly dragging me down. The what-ifs, the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve had no place in my headspace, or my heart, not if I wanted to pave this future for myself.
And fuck me did I want that.
I wanted it all.
Wanted Mikey to call me his dad. Wanted Dylan to always be at my side. Wanted more kisses, more—
The thought smacked me in my face before sucker punching me in the gut.
When the fuck did I start wanting more?
Mikey stirring had me moving. I welcomed the interruption. Clung to the escape he offered.
My thoughts were dangerous.
But not completely unexpected.
I’d bullshitted myself a lot over the years. Ensured my brain overruled the want in my heart.
Now? I wasn’t sure I could keep denying myself. This pull.
Maybe this what-if was something I could chase and make happen?
The fizz in my gut had me pausing. I latched on to the feeling, questioning it. Examining it.
Was Dylan the only person to ever make me feel this way? A kick of my pulse and I felt giddy with possibility.
Stirring again, Mikey grunted in his sleep, shifting around in the carrier. It got me moving as I headed back the way I came.
Halfway through the softball field, Mikey woke with a startled cry.
“Hey, there.” I peered over my shoulder, seeing his red face and his out-of-focus eyes. “You’re okay, Mikey.”
He just cried harder.
“Five minutes and we’ll be home.” It was closer to ten, but he wouldn’t know the difference.
“Out.”
I paused. Maybe it would be best to get him out. Every tear he spilled I hated. A hug could fix everything, right?
“Sure thing, kiddo. Give me a second.”
Before I could move, before I could even grab the straps to remove the carrier, his face turned beet red and a fresh sob started, right alongside the stench of my worst nightmare.
No, no, no. Not now.
Panicked, I removed the carrier as quickly as possible, trying to hush Mikey and not let my horror show. Once on the ground, I unbuckled him and lifted him out, my hands underneath his armpits.
Wide-eyed, I swallowed hard and held my breath.
No, no, no.
An explosion had detonated in his pants. A shitbomb so extreme, my brain short-circuited.
Meanwhile, I stood with Mikey held away from my body, the poor kid still wailing while I was in a nightmare.
I also needed to get my brain to work, keep my fear in check, and care for my kid.
Taking a deep breath through my mouth, I focused on his face, his bright red cheeks, and his distraught eyes.
“Hey.” I placed him on his feet on the ground, kneeling before him. “You’re okay, Mikey. We’ll get this fixed right up.”
I touched his face, concern making my heart trip at the heat of his skin.
Fucking hell, my first day as a solo parent and I’d made my kid ill.
I tugged him toward me, wrapping him in my arms and dotting a kiss on his sweaty forehead. “Hush, baby boy. I’ve got you.”
A stuttering breath and his crying fractured a little as he clung to me.
“That’s it.” I hushed him again, focusing on taking slow, even breaths.
While I had no idea what to do next, comfort Mikey I could do.
I didn’t have a spare change of clothes or anything. A rookie mistake.
“Hey, you need some wet wipes?”
The question took me by surprise, having not heard anyone approach. It was the brunette with the kid who had the pet ball.
“God, yes, please.”
A smile of understanding slipped onto her lips. She crouched down, her daughter at her side, and opened the small backpack. “Here, grab these as well.”
Gratitude crashed into me as I took the offered pack of wipes, a small plastic bag, and a pair of shorts. “This is amazing, thank you.”
“It’s all good. There’s never an ideal time for a diarrhea explosion. Parents of toddlers have to stick together.”
I chuckled. “I really appreciate it. Thank you.”
A changing mat appeared next, and I placed Mikey down for the first time, taking in the horror of the explosion. My breathing was choppy, but I had this.
Mikey needed me. Plus, I had an audience.
For years I’d bullshitted my way through my adverse reaction to shit—usually making a joke of it—no one beyond Dylan knowing the truth. What was one more incident and moment of me faking it?
I got him cleaned up with almost mechanical precision. Focusing on his calming whimpers helped. Knowing he wasn’t so upset and must be feeling better not being in soiled clothes kept me going.
By the time he was clean and wearing the borrowed shorts, I breathed easier. My hands were as clean as I could get them—though I seriously appreciated the antibacterial gel Kelsey handed me. And yes, we were on first-name basis now.
How could I not be when she’d saved the day?
“You are a lifesaver,” I said as I stood, holding Mikey on my hip.
“Not a worry.” Her gaze drifted to Mikey. “Perhaps check his temperature when you get back.”
I nodded and looked at my boy. “He’s warm.”
“Have you got some Tylenol at home?”
I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. “Maybe?” When Mikey was teething, Dylan gave him meds to help him. I couldn’t imagine something like that not being stored in the medicine cabinet. “We’re bound to have some.”
I shot off a quick text to Dylan, letting him know where I was and asking if we had meds. If we didn’t, I’d need to head to the pharmacy to pick some up.
Together, we walked to the park entrance. Millie was being carried by her mom, finally flagging, and Mikey’s face pressed against my chest.
The poor kid.
I held the carrier, complete with soiled clothes, in my hand, wanting to hurry up and get home. Getting Mikey cleaned up properly and checking his temperature was my priority. Though damn if I didn’t want to get in the shower and scrub myself down.
Reaching the entrance, we paused.
“So, thanks again.”
“Honestly, it’s not a problem.” Kelsey shifted Millie a little higher on her hip.
“Is there a way to get the shorts back to you?” Maybe I should just give her some cash so she could buy a new pair.
“No need. We’ve got at least ten at home. Keep them as spare when you’re out and about.” Humor laced her words.
I chuckled lightly, not wanting to jolt Mikey. “I hear you. Point taken.”
“Millie’s available for playdates if Mikey’s ever in need of company.”
“Yeah,” I answered immediately. Millie seemed like a cool kid and just the right kind of hyper to be entertaining to be around. “That sounds good. Mikey spends some time in childcare, but I’m home pretty much all summer and will be looking after him. I’ll talk to Dyl about it.”
Her brows pulled together at the mention of Dylan’s name. A moment later, her eyes widened in recognition, her gaze settling on Mikey.
“Sergeant Turner?”
“Yeah.” I studied her carefully, wondering if I’d been wrong to even attempt to be friendly with this woman. “My husband.”
Kelsey seemed nice enough. Having already clocked her wedding ring, I had no issues with giving her my number, reassured there’d be no mistaking this was about the kids.
“Oh my. Right.” A tentative smile lifted her lips, and a light blush colored her cheeks. “I heard he’d gotten married. Congratulations.”
My smile was real, relieved she wasn’t a dickhead. “Thanks,” I said before giving her my number and asking her to text me hers so I didn’t have to juggle with my hands full.
I heard the message alert and smiled. “Great. I best get going and….” I trailed off at the sound of a car pulling up beside us.
Taking in the unfamiliar pickup, I waited, wondering why it had stopped right here. A glance at Kelsey and my brow furrowed.
Her face had paled, eyes widening with what I thought looked like fear.
I peered again at the truck.
A guy stepped out with a face of thunder and a scowl firmly in place. He was thick-set, I supposed tall, relatively speaking. Around me, the majority of the population were pocket-sized.
“Nolan.”
The quiet voice threaded with panic caught my attention. I snapped my gaze back to Kelsey.
“I was just on my way home right now.” A subtle shift in her body and Kelsey held tighter to her sleeping daughter as she spoke.
Nolan stepped around the vehicle, his fierce gaze moving to me. The widening of his eyes as he took me in would have been amusing if I wasn’t so concerned about Kelsey’s reaction.
Then he recognized me.
His eyebrows darted up, and a grin that didn’t do a thing to make me like him any more was shot my way.
“Cassius Britton.” He shook his head. “Holy shit. I’d heard you were from around these parts.”
A tight smile formed on my lips. “Born and bred,” I answered. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Kelsey’s husband. I could be polite and not create shit when I wanted to. But fuck, I was glad I had my hands full and couldn’t shake his hand.
“Fucking A.”