Chapter 7
“Go out to dinner with me.”
Six words that made my body jolt, my legs tremble, and my heart lurch.
“Like a date?”
Rhode looked away from my favorite picture of Remy—which had pride of place on the bookshelf next to my TV—to me and smiled.
Jumping Josiah, that damn smile. I resisted the urge to ask him if he had braces growing up.
If he hadn’t, I hoped he’d passed down the perfect-teeth gene to Remy.
I refrained from asking but barely. And the only reason I didn’t ask was because when Rhode added a deep throaty chuckle to go along with that brilliantly white smile, I was mesmerized.
I needed to keep my wits about me but it was damn hard when Rhode was in my home.
Alone without Remington, Letty, the Welshes, his friends.
Just us.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him. But at that moment I couldn’t think of a single one.
“Yeah, babe, like a date.”
Five words that were more powerful than the first six.
“Though,” he went on and I watched his lips twitch. “Not lost on me, it’s ludicrous I’m asking the mother of my child out on a date—that being our first.”
I felt some of the tension ease. He was making a joke, cutting some of the uncomfortable anxiety.
“Yeah, we jumped ahead a little.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot.”
Rhode didn’t smile again but his face remained friendly. His dark brown eyes stayed locked with mine; eyes I’d seen every day when my son looked at me. I never thought I’d see the original pair again.
God, how many times had I wished I’d asked his name?
“I’m really sorry,” I whispered.
“You’ve already said that. And it’s not your fault. We had our night and went our separate ways. I didn’t ask for your name, you didn’t ask for mine. Neither of us could’ve known how big of a mistake that was. But just to say, I’ve thought about you over the years.”
I could not believe my ears. How could that even be possible?
“You did?”
“Yep. When we were at the door I was trying to think of a way to ask you to stay. But you looked uncomfortable and I didn’t want to make you more so.
At the very least I wanted to tell you my name, leave it up to you if you wanted to contact me.
But the way you said goodbye sounded final so I let it go.
I knew it was a mistake as soon as the door closed.
A year later when I was still thinking about you, I was full of regret.
Another year went by and I still couldn’t forget you, I knew it was something I’d regret for the rest of my life.
I’m not big on regrets—not big on making the same mistake twice.
You hafta know; now that I found you again, I won’t be walking away. ”
Right. We shared a child. He’d said before and he was making it clear now he wanted to know his son.
“Remington,” I murmured.
“Straight up, I’m gonna be in Remington’s life.
I want him to know me. I want to be his dad—not part-time, not a once-a-month dad, not a holiday-dad.
I want in the trenches, the day-to-day. But you need to know before I knew Remy existed, I wasn’t walking away from you.
And it fucks me, Brooklyn, you’ve been close for years and I didn’t know.
I can’t say I’ve spent a lot of time in CDA, but I’ve been here.
I’ve walked past that bookstore. I’ve been in the bars downtown.
I’ve been to the grocery store not far from here.
I’ve eaten in a variety of restaurants from here to Sandpoint and I have to wonder, how many times were you close and I didn’t know. ”
The feeling was back—butterflies in my belly.
They weren’t fluttering, they weren’t rioting.
No, not this time. Their velvety wings ignited a sensation I’d only ever felt once before.
Five years ago in a bar in Washington D.C.
when a stranger wrapped his hand around mine.
The feeling of the unknown. Excitement mixed with anticipation along with a healthy dose of eagerness.
My heart was at war with my mind. Common sense told me to tread cautiously.
My soul begged me to jump straight into the fire and tell Rhode there hadn’t been a single day I hadn’t thought about him.
Tell him that I wanted to find him not only for Remy but for myself.
That I regretted walking out of that hotel room.
Tell him the truth about why I left. Tell him I was a romantic and everything he’d said to me called to a place deep inside of me that had belonged to him and only him.
But I couldn’t tell him any of that. Common sense won out. Remington’s well-being was more important than my silly musings.
“Do you live in CDA?” I asked.
“I have a cabin in Sandpoint. I go up there whenever I can, normally between jobs.”
Holy, holy, crap.
How was that possible? I mean, what were the chances that Rhode lived—albeit part-time—less than an hour away?
With a great deal of effort, I silenced the voice in the back of my head—a whisper, a hum, a satisfied undertone that I’d been right. I wasn’t deluded or full of fanciful thoughts. That night I was meant to cross Rhode’s path and I was meant to find him again when the time was right.
Only, the timing was all wrong.
That made the butterflies die and my stomach clench.
“Brooklyn?”
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t tell Rhode where my thoughts had led me. I didn’t know a whole lot about relationships, and I certainly had no experience with starting one with my son’s long-lost father but I knew enough to know Rhode would run a mile if I told him the connection I felt to him lived in my soul.
“I’m just shocked you were so close all these years.”
Before Rhode could respond, there was an obnoxious pounding on the door followed by, “Open the door, Brook.”
Shocked, my heart stopped mid-beat. I sucked in a breath then I raced to the door as fast as my feet could take me. But Rhode got there faster. His arm hooked around my belly and he pulled me back.
“Wait,” he murmured.
“That’s Kiki.”
Rhode held me tight. My back was pressed against his hard chest—and it must be noted his chest felt like a wall of sheer muscle—but when I shared who was at my door those muscles bunched and turned to stone.
“Rhode,” I hissed. “Let me go.”
“I know you’re in there, bitch. Open up.”
Okay, so I was wrong. Rhode hearing Kiki call me a bitch turned him to stone. Or maybe I was the one who’d gone stiff. Kiki could get nasty, but she’d never called me a bitch.
“You’re behind me,” Rhode clipped.
“But—”
“No lip, Brooklyn. You stay behind me.”
Hm. I didn’t like that. As in, not at all.
“First, don’t snap at me. Second, I know Kiki, you don’t. And third, don’t tell me not to give you lip.”
“We’re not having this argument now. I need to see to Kiki, and while I’m doing that, you’re behind me and that’s for your safety. So, really, we’re never having this argument. Or, we can, but it’s one you’ll lose when I feel you’re in danger.”
“Open the fuck up!” Kiki banged again.
It was a pisser, but perhaps Rhode was right. I’d never heard Kiki so mad. And I didn’t want to have any argument—I needed to get Kiki in the house.
“Fine. I’ll stay behind you until she calms down. But that’s it, Rhode. She’s family and she’s been missing for two weeks. Open the door and get her in the house.”
Rhode let me go and gently shuffled me to the side. Once he had me positioned where he wanted, he lifted his shirt and unholstered his sidearm.
“Do you really think that’s necessary? You’re gonna scare the crap out of her.”
“I think keeping you safe is more important than me worrying about scaring the shit out of Kiki Welsh. And just to say, the way she’s shouting through the door, acting the way she’s acting, I hope it does.”
Hm. Something else I didn’t like.
Rhode unlocked the door and barely opened it an inch when suddenly Kiki pushed it open and shoved in. Rhode moved me back and shuffled again so he could slam the door closed and throw the deadbolt.
“Who are you?” Kiki demanded angrily.
Who are you?
That was when the reality of the situation hit me.
Something was not right. Kiki had pounded on my door and did it angrily, not afraid.
She was not pounding and desperate to get inside to safety after she’d somehow managed to escape her captors.
She was not pleading for me to open the door and help her.
She was in clean clothes, hair and makeup done like she was getting ready to go to a bar.
And she was angry.
I peeked around Rhode and demanded back just as irately, “Where have you been?”
“Who is this guy?”
“Answer Brooklyn.” Unsurprisingly, Rhode’s demand held way more authority than mine did. And he didn’t sound angry or irate—he sounded way the hell pissed-off.
“Is he a cop?”
That was it.
I was done.
I pushed to the side and scooted around Rhode the best I could while he was pushing me back.
“Does it matter if he’s a cop? You’ve been missing for two weeks, Kiki. We’ve been worried sick. Are you okay? How’d you—”
“I’m not missing,” she spat.
My breath caught in my throat and a lump so big formed I had to force sound to come out of my mouth. Only one word escaped, “What?”
“Just because I don’t wanna talk to any of you doesn’t mean I’m missing. And if I don’t wanna talk to any of you, I certainly don’t wanna see you.”
I wasn’t angry or irate or pissed off. I was devastated.
Totally wrecked.
Not for me. For Letty, for Michael, but mostly for Tally. A mother who had cried herself to sleep. Worried endlessly. Tortured herself with thoughts of what was happening to her daughter.
Not only had the Welshes been beside themselves with worry, they’d spent hours looking for her, they’d rallied half the city to search for her. They’d contacted the police and the FBI. Man-hours wasted that the authorities could’ve been using to solve crimes, find someone who was actually missing.
“You ran away?”