Chapter Thirty-five
Carter
Amelia dances around the cabin when Christian and Bug trail inside behind me, their arms loaded with games, mine loaded with boxes of pizza. No matter how much I want the fireplace thing to happen, it’s more important to raise the spirits of the two people living in total isolation.
The thing is, I get the idea Kenna and Amelia are used to solitude. With the exception of the one she had a falling out with last year, Kenna never speaks of friends—for her or Amelia.
I ask myself once again how I can be in love with someone I still know so little about.
At this point, however, I’m not sure anything I learn about her could sway my feelings.
I’m a goner. I’m in this lock, stock, and barrel.
And I know my life will never be the same if these two souls walk out of it.
When I go back to the car and return with a couple of air mattresses, Amelia becomes even more excited.
The smile on Kenna’s face is miles wide. I cleared it with her before setting up the sleepover.
“Can we build a blanket fort and sleep in it?” Amelia asks, bouncing on her toes like an overstimulated bunny.
Bug stacks games on the kitchen counter. “Sure, squirt. But girls only. I had to swear on my life that Christian and I would sleep in separate rooms.”
Kenna laughs and whispers to me, “I’m sure that was a fun conversation with Asher.”
“You have no idea.” I turn to Amelia. “How about we set up the blanket fort out here? We can put the air mattresses inside and you and Bug can sleep there. Your mom can sleep on the pullout couch, and Christian and I will take the bedroom.”
Amelia runs to the closet to get all the blankets.
“Hold on, pumpkin. Pizza first? I got pepperoni.”
Amelia thinks about it, looking from the blankets to the pizza boxes. “What if I want to eat pizza in the blanket fort?”
I cock my head. “You know, I think pizza in a blanket fort sounds like a lot of fun.”
Kenna holds up her hand. “Hold on. Are you forgetting how messy my child can be? I’m sure Bug isn’t too keen to sleep on mozzarella and pizza sauce.”
“Don’t be a party pooper, Kenna,” I say with a wink. “This is a sleepover. You definitely need to eat pizza in a fort on a sleepover.” I set the oven on low, put the pizza boxes inside, then ask Bug, “Help me move the table into the middle of the room?”
We spend the next thirty minutes constructing the fort.
It’s not pretty. Blankets are draped over the table, the chairs, the back of the couch.
We even hung one from the antlers on the wall.
By the time we’re done, half the main living area is a kluge of sheets, blankets, towels, bungee cords, even a tarp I had in the back of my car.
I add a few finishing touches when Amelia uses the bathroom, then I hold open the ‘door’ to the fort for her. “You first, m’lady.”
She giggles and crawls inside. I poke my head in to see her reaction.
Wide-eyed, she glances around at the battery-powered lanterns I set up along the perimeter.
She flops down onto an air mattress and closes her eyes, like she’s trying to take in the moment.
When they open, she looks over at me. “This is the bestest blanket fort in the whole wide world.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Over the next four hours, my cheeks hurt from the smile that never disappears.
Because through all the pizza eating—spills and all—games, laughter, and one impromptu dance party, I find I’m having the time of my life.
And based on Kenna’s quiet, peaceful, awestruck demeanor, she might just be having the time of hers.
~ ~ ~
Amelia’s smile drops and her shoulders sag when breakfast—also eaten in the fort—is over and we’re packing up to leave.
I go to remove the large tarp, but Kenna puts her hand on mine. “Leave it. It’ll keep her busy today if she can play in it.”
“Sure.” I nod, knowing I’ll do whatever I can to make both of them happy. “We’ll pack it up when I come back.”
Kenna smiles. Because Bug and Christian may be going home, but after I drop them off and pick up a few supplies, I’ll be right back here, living out the fireplace fantasy. The thought of it has me eager to leave.
“Maybe we can do this again next Friday,” Christian says.
“We’ll see,” is all I can say.
Kenna and I exchange a look. I know we’re both wondering if they’re even going to be here a week from now.
Will Jonah and his friend have dug up any useful information on Cyrus?
Will Kenna decide it’s too much trouble living in the cabin and finally go south?
My brain doesn’t even allow me to think that far ahead.
Because this isn’t a permanent solution.
Just like them living in my basement was never meant to be one.
I shake away those thoughts and questions and move on to something more productive. Leaning in so nobody else can hear, I whisper to Kenna, “Maybe we won’t disassemble the fort. Because I can think of a lot of other fun things we can do inside it.”
A blush sweeps up her face. Then a smile.
She’s totally on board. And it might help solve the problem of little prying eyes should Amelia wake up and come out for a glass of water.
I’ve tossed around a few ideas on how we could get naked without the fear of being interrupted, and the fort now adds another layer of protection.
I whisk Amelia off her feet and into a hug. “Thanks for the best sleepover, pumpkin.”
She hugs me tightly. It has me closing my eyes. There’s nothing like a hug from a child, and it’s a distant memory when Christian wrapped little arms around me like this. Every time Amelia does it, my heart flips almost as much as it does when her mom has her arms around me.
When I put her down, Amelia turns to Christian. “You’re lucky. You have the best daddy.”
“You’re right about that, squirt,” he replies. “He is the best. And I’m more than happy to share him with you.”
Her eyes light up. “You mean he can be my daddy too?”
My heart thunders at her innocent words. Same as they did the last time she asked the very same question.
“I, uh…” Christian looks like a deer in headlights. “I meant, you know, like building forts and snowmen and stuff.” He glances at me. “Don’t we need to get going?”
“Amelia,” Kenna says. “Get your coat on. We’ll go build another Frosty.”
“A daddy Frosty?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“Can we name him Carter?”
Kenna and I stare at each other. She doesn’t know what to say. Nobody does.
I step forward. “You can name him whatever you want. But Carter the Snowman?” I cringe. “Maybe you should just stick with Frosty.”
“How about Snowflake the Snowman?”
Christian and Bug chuckle.
“I think Snowflake is perfect.” I ruffle her hair. “See you later, alligator.” I turn to Kenna and raise a sultry brow. “And you.”
Kenna’s smile isn’t as big as before. She’s still thinking about the whole ‘daddy’ thing.
I wonder if when I leave, she’ll sit Amelia down inside the blanket fort and have a serious conversation.
One about me not being her father. Not now.
Not ever. One about her not getting her hopes up and not getting too attached.
One about how they will be leaving soon.
I don’t want that conversation to happen. Because it will make Amelia sad. And one of my goals in life, other than to figure out how to keep them here, is making them happy. Both of them.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” I say to Kenna on our way out. I squeeze her hand. “Besides, you should be thinking about all the ways we’re going to make use of the fort. Time better spent, if you ask me.”
“But she—”
“She’s four,” I interrupt. “She’s already forgotten it.”
“I promise you she hasn’t. She brings it up all the time, Carter.” Her head shakes. “And us doing things like we did last night is not helping. I don’t want to confuse her. She already…” Her eyes close.
“She already what?” I ask, glancing back at the three kids who are saying their goodbyes.
“She already loves you.”
My heart explodes at the declaration. I want to tell her that I love Amelia, too. That I love her. But now is not the time.
I spend the entire drive back replaying those words in my head. Because the truth is, being Amelia’s dad is something I want more than anything.
~ ~ ~
After dropping off Bug, I take Christian to the shop. He’ll hang out with Mia and then go to her place for the night. He settles in behind the counter, always willing to lend a hand having long ago learned the computer system.
Back in the front lot, I’m climbing into my car when a familiar face comes into view through my windshield. My entire body tenses and I quickly get right back out. “What the fuck are you doing here, Cyrus? I want you off my property. Now.”
He laughs like the devil incarnate. “Ahhh, so I guess the jig is up.” He shrugs. “Was she cowering in the house peeking out a window?”
“Do you not speak English? I said get off my property.”
He glances around. “Well now, let’s see.
It’s not entirely yours, now is it? Not based on the sizable loan coming due.
And don’t even get me started on the mortgage on your meager little house.
I know exactly who you are, Carter Cruz.
A struggling mechanic. The single dad trying to make ends meet to give his disabled son the life he himself never had. ”
I bristle and ball my hands into fists, barely holding myself back from pummeling him into the asphalt.
“Careful,” he warns. “I’m a lawyer. And believe me, the very last thing you want to do is assault an attorney.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. “She’s not here. She’s gone. You drove her out of town. So you can take your threats and get the fuck out.”
He laughs again. “Oh, I’m fairly certain she’s here.
A guy like you, one who’s on the verge of losing his sorry little business to some new competition, he’s not just going to let a woman like that get away.
No wonder you’ve latched on to her.” He steps closer and gets in my face.
He’s close enough that I can smell alcohol on his breath.
“I’m warning you—if that little bitch is anyone’s meal ticket, it’s mine. ”
“Is there a problem out here?” someone says behind me.
Both of us turn to see Lincoln and Dax ten feet away. They’re standing tall, arms crossed, ready to throw down at the first hint of trouble.
“This douchebag was just leaving,” I say and turn to Cyrus with a death stare. “Aren’t you?”
“I’d like to see you make me.”
I start losing my shit and almost pin him against the car. But then I back off when I remember my impressionable son is inside and quite possibly watching this entire altercation.
Cyrus chuckles snidely. “You think you’re a tough guy with your brothers to back you up, eh?”
He’s goading me. He wants me to hit him. Probably so he can have me thrown in jail and out of the way.
“Go ahead and take a swing at me,” I say, not taking the bait. “I’ll show you how fucking tough I am.”
“I’m a lover, Cruz. Not a fighter. Besides, is that any way to talk to a potential customer?
Who says I’m not here to have my car fixed?
I hear you’re very good at that.” His eyes roll.
“Well, I hear you’re marginally good at that.
Especially when it comes to cars belonging to single moms who slid off the road. ”
“Leave. Now.”
He looks like he’s about to challenge me when Sheriff Niles pulls into the parking lot. He rolls down his window and looks directly at Cyrus. “What do we have here?”
Cyrus doesn’t even acknowledge the sheriff. “Calling in reinforcements won’t help. I have my ways. Just ask your new gal pal.”
“Sheriff, I’ve asked this piece of shit to get off our property. Repeatedly. He also showed up at my house where he was uninvited and unwelcome. I think he’s approaching stalker territory.”
“Well then, friend,” he says to Cyrus, “looks like you just earned yourself an escort out of town.”
“You can’t make me leave the town,” Cyrus scoffs.
“He’s a lawyer,” I inform the sheriff. “Thinks he’s above the law.”
Niles laughs, then his face hardens as he glares at Cyrus. “I am the law in this town, boy. Now get in your vehicle and start driving.”
“This isn’t over,” Cyrus sneers at me.
I know he means it, which is why my skin crawls as I watch him walk away, tossing me a venomous stare over his shoulder.
He gets into his car and Niles follows him out of the parking lot and presumably out of town.
I shut my car door, follow my brothers back inside, and put the CLOSED sign in the window. “We need to talk,” I say, knowing exactly what I need to do and how I need to do it. I turn to Christian, “This involves you too. And Aunt Mia.”
I sit all four of them down in the reception area, telling them what’s been going on and why I called this meeting.
With slack jaws and wide eyes, they listen as I make them privy to everything I know about Kenna and Cyrus.
Well, almost everything. I leave out the bit about the escort gig. Then I tell them my plan.
Mia sheds a few tears. Christian, being the smart, resilient kid he is, upends my plan and comes up with his own. My brothers think I’m crazy but are willing to go along with it simply because we’re kin and they would do anything for me.
Me—I have a sense of peace for the first time in weeks.