Chapter 3
three
XANDER
Bacon salting the air smelled like a good Saturday morning in Brooklyn. The sizzle of turkey bacon in the pan competed with the high-pitched voices of LJ and Nova as they spoke over each other between bursts of laughter.
And God, there wasn’t a sweeter sound to Xander.
Well… actually, Rylee’s moans were definitely—
“Can I, Uncle Xander?”
Nova’s voice cut through his thoughts. Xander turned to look at her over his shoulder.
She stood near the dove gray marble counter, eyes fixed on him.
Nova had grown so much, and he was grateful to have witnessed every bit of it. Still, he missed the days when she used to call him “Dander” and sometimes wished her mother had never corrected her. The thought made him snicker.
“Can you what, Princess Nova?”
She giggled, her face lighting up just like her mother’s did when she laughed.
“Stir the pancakes?”
She was already bouncing on her little legs, and because he could never say no…
“You absolutely can, your highness.” He smiled. “The moment I put the batter together, it’s all yours.”
“Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air in celebration.
“But I wanna stir it,” LJ chimed in, folding his little arms over his chest and pouting.
Xander stepped away from the stove, squatting beside him.
“Well, LJ, if you’re over there stirring,” he said, “who’s gonna crack the eggs for me?”
LJ’s face lit up.
“I gotta see if you were paying attention the other day when I taught you how to crack them the right way.”
“Yay!” LJ shouted. “Cool!”
Xander held out a fist for him to bump, and LJ accepted.
As he returned to his full height, his eyes met Rylee’s from across the kitchen. She was leaning against the wood-paneled entrance, her expression a mix of humor and something else… annoyance?
When he’d shown up at the brownstone that morning, on his day off, she hadn’t looked too pleased.
She’d sighed the second she opened the door.
“Didn’t we talk about this?”
He handed her a paper cup of coffee from her favorite spot down the block, lifted the bag of groceries in his other hand, and leaned in to kiss her lips.
“I was in the area and thought I’d take making breakfast off your hands.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled. Her lips parted to say more, but Nova’s voice interrupted.
“Uncle Xander, yay! LJ, Uncle Xander’s here.”
Xander winked at Rylee and stepped over the threshold. She stepped aside to let him in.
“Uncle Xander’s here,” Xander teased, stealing another kiss from Rylee.
Since then, she’d been giving him subtle death stares from across the room.
It had been almost three years since they made things official. He loved that woman and loved his time with her. But his time with her kids? That was unmatched.
They were amazing. He’d known that from the moment he met them at his mother’s daycare during the week they stayed at Future Seeds Daycare.
Since then, he’d been at every birthday, every school event, even helped them sell holiday candy, taking the catalogs to work and bullying his firefighter crew into buying holiday tins.
He might as well have Dad in Training tatted on his forehead.
And while the thought was a mix of pride and nerves, Rylee’s constant reminders to chill about it took some of the wind out of him.
Like now… her arms folded, that too-tight smile she gave the kids when they pulled her into their bubble.
He turned the fire off beneath the last strips of turkey bacon and plated them.
“Aight, LJ.” He lifted the boy onto the wooden stand Xander bought for the children last year when they first showed interest in helping him cook. It helped them reach the counter and made them feel like grown-ups. It was cute.
“I’m gonna leave these here with you,” he said, tapping the closed carton of eggs. “I want you to crack eight.”
“Eight eggs?!” LJ looked excited and nervous all at once.
“Eight eggs, big boy,” Xander confirmed, tapping LJ’s belly playfully. “You got this.”
“Okay…”
“Let me hear you say I got this, Young Prince.”
LJ puffed out his chest. “I got this.”
“Aight!” Xander laughed. “So go ‘head, crack them in this bowl. Try to keep the shells out, but if they get in there, it’s cool.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Uncle Xander will help you fish them out.”
“Cool!” LJ shouted, already reaching for an egg.
Xander turned to Nova. “Let’s get the pancake batter together so you can mix it up, Princess.”
She did a little dance on her way to the bowl that made him laugh out loud.
He loved this—being here, in their world, soaking up their energy.
And he thought Rylee was warming up to it too.
But every chance she got, she tried to cool it down.
He understood why. And yeah, it still stung.
Nova was stirring batter when Rylee moved past him to toss her empty coffee cup in the trash. He stepped behind her, pressing his hands to the counter on either side of her, caging her in.
“You gonna tell me I make better pancakes than you again?”
“No,” she replied flatly, turning in his arms to face him. “I’m gonna tell you not to pop up anymore… again.”
He leaned back slightly, a little stunned. But he forced a smile, pecked her cheek, and buried his face in her neck.
That pulled a giggle out of her before she pushed him away.
He tried not to take it personal. He hadn’t planned this—hadn’t meant to fall for her or her babies. But once he did, everything just fit.
Her. Her kids. This life.
How the hell was he supposed to ignore that?
“Aye.” He caught her arm gently before she could walk away. “I’m sorry, okay? I was in the area on my day off, and I just wanted to chill with y’all this morning.”
She sighed and whispered, “Which makes me a total bitch for even fussing about it, Xander.”
“Aye, yo,” he whispered back, flicking her lip playfully with his fingertip. “Don’t you ever call my girl a bitch. Are you crazy?” He stepped closer, lowered to her level. “You want problems with me? You tryna square up? What’s up? What’s good, shorty?”
She tossed her head back laughing, then pushed him again.
“I did it!” LJ announced. “No shells!”
“Perfect!” Xander clapped. “I knew you could do it. I’ll be over there in two minutes.”
Rylee’s voice came low. “The kids are getting too comfortable.”
Damn. She really said that. Out loud.
It burned. But he knew better than to push. She wasn’t there yet.
He furrowed his brows. “Too comfortable with what? Being loved, Snoop?”
She blinked quickly, then squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands slid down her face and dropped to her sides. “I just… I don’t want them thinking you’re their daddy.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “They won’t, aight?”
“LJ called you—”
“And I corrected him, right?” he reminded, recalling that dinner table moment. It had warmed his heart. But Rylee’s panic had been so sharp, he’d quickly shifted—told LJ he loved being called Uncle Xander and that anything else would break his heart.
Truthfully? He’d loved it.
But clearly, she hadn’t.
His eyes drifted over her shoulder, landing on a photo in the hallway. Lennox. The kids passed it every day like seeing their dad in a frame was nothing. And maybe that was the problem. They were constantly reminded of him. They weren’t forgetting… but they were letting Xander in.
Why couldn’t she let them let him in?
“They know who their daddy is,” he promised softly, returning his eyes to her. “They really do. Don’t even worry your pretty self about that.”
She let out a breath, sharp and heavy.
“But you know…” he added, tightening his hold, “I can be your daddy.”
She cringed, nose scrunching, lips twitching. “Ew.”
He laughed, and she did too.
But his chest? It was tight. So damn tight.
Would it be so bad to step into that role?
He wouldn’t mind. He wanted to.
But Rylee didn’t.
They finished cooking breakfast and gathered at the table. The kids did most of the talking. Rylee and Xander only got a few words in.
Every so often, she’d glance at him. Her eyes would soften. Her smile would almost come through.
It was moments like that that made him believe she might be warming up to the idea of this. Of him.
But then she’d say stuff like earlier.
“I don’t want them thinking you’re their daddy.”
Well, damn.
Her words clung to him long after she spoke them, looping through his mind as he cleaned up after breakfast. Even while loading the dishwasher, wiping down the counters, and getting the kids to help—which they loved—he couldn’t shake the sound of her voice.
An hour later, he still didn’t want to leave.
If he had it his way, the kids would drift into their Saturday morning routines—TV, puzzles, dolls—and he and Rylee could curl up on the couch, do nothing, just be.
But he knew better. Suggesting that might send her into a silent panic.
So he gathered his things, hugged the kids, and headed for the door. Rylee followed behind.
He turned at the door, pulled her into a hug and a kiss.
“I didn’t mean to overstep,” he told her. “I want you to know that, okay?”
She smiled and nodded.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t decide to use that key you keep under that fake rock when you took too long to answer the door. Then you would’ve really been mad at me, huh?”
She gasped. “How do you know about that key?”
He smirked. “Spotted it when I was throwing out trash a month ago. Kicked the rock by accident. Noticed the key under it. Which, by the way, that’s a terrible place to keep a spare, baby. Terrible.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “After losing my keys years ago at a Mommy and Me meetup in the Botanical Gardens, I’ve been keeping them there. It works for me, so hush.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He tapped her chin, tilted her head back, and kissed her again.
“What I wouldn’t give to take you upstairs and work off all these pancakes and syrup, though.”
She giggled, then moaned softly, arms tightening around his waist.
He ran his thumb along her lips. She opened her eyes, and the look in them did things to him he didn’t need happening right now—especially since he couldn’t act on them.
“I’ll text next time,” he promised, caressing her cheek.
He left a kiss on her forehead, opened the door, and stepped out onto the stoop.
At his truck, he leaned forward, behind the steering wheel, to peer through the brownstone window. He hoped to catch a glimpse of her, or the kids. But he couldn’t see anything.
Xander had been finding it hard to fight the pull of wanting them under the same roof one day.
It would be crazy to ask Rylee and the kids to move into his one-bedroom, but with Rylee drawing invisible lines he tried hard not to cross, it was hard for him to envision her home as his home too.
Lennox’s presence lived in those walls, and Xander respected that, even when it made him feel like a permanent guest in a life he wanted to be part of.
But a conversation that the firefighters at his firehouse were having over lunch weeks prior had been playing on repeat in his mind.
“Aye, yo, have y’all heard that Greene Gardens is offering priority housing to first responders?”
Xander peeked up from his mac and cheese to focus on his fellow firefighter, Colt.
“You get price cuts, low-interest loans, the works,” Colt said through his stuffed mouth. “Brooks from Ladder 181 just bought a property out there.”
“Word?” Xander asked. “How he like it?”
“Oh, he loves it over there,” Colt replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “His house is huge. The neighborhood good too.”
“Hmph,” Xander replied, returning to eating. “That’s dope. Maybe I’ll look into it someday.”
But the thought hooked in deep. A place big enough for the kids. A neighborhood that felt safe. A chance to build something of his own for the first time in his life.
It was just a thought.
A thought that wouldn’t leave him. Especially not on that day as he sat in his truck, prepared to start it up and drive off… even when he really didn’t want to. There wasn’t a place he wanted to be more on that cold Saturday morning than in there, with them.
And he thought he was doing everything right to earn that place—being present, being gentle.
So why did it always feel like he was crossing a line trying to make a home with Rylee and her kids?