Chapter 66
CHAPTER
SIXTY-SIX
LOOT
“What do you think?” I ask, looking down at Cade.
He wrinkles his nose, then shakes his head once. We’re spending the day together, just us. It’s been a whirlwind since he started living with me, and I want to spend some one-on-one time together, but I also want to make sure he’s good with my plans.
Because the plans I have affect him, too.
“Doesn’t like this one,” I murmur, sliding the item across the glass case.
The woman dips her chin, then takes out something else. It’s bigger, likely with a higher price tag as well. “Would you prefer something more like this?” she asks.
“No,” Cade states, almost a bit harshly.
I watch as he walks away from me a few steps and then stops. He extends his arm, his finger pointing at something in the case, before he turns his head and looks over at the saleswoman.
“This is the one.”
Closing the distance between us, I look down at the item he’s insistently pointing to. It’s blue, yellow, white, and gold. I couldn’t even begin to guess what stones they are. The woman behind the counter opens the case and takes out the item in question.
“For an engagement ring, this would be different,” the woman states. “The stone in the middle is aquamarine, then there are diamonds on either side, and the smaller yellow ones beside them are citrine stones.”
“Dad, it’s perfect,” Cade states.
“Why’s that?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off the ring.
“My birthstone is the yellow one, November. Yours is the aquamarine, March.”
Well, fuck. I don’t ask him how he knows the different birthstones, because I know I damn sure as hell had no fucking clue.
I start to ask him how the fuck he knows all that shit, but then he speaks, and I don’t know why, but my heart twists when he does.
I should have taken him from Destinee a long fucking time ago.
“My new teacher was talking about birthstones because her husband bought her a necklace, so I looked all ours up. That’s how I know. Juliette’s is peridot. It’s a green color. She was born in August.”
The saleswoman smiles at us from behind the counter, and I can tell she thinks this shit is sweet as hell. Because it is. Clearing my throat, I dip my chin toward the ring. “The boss has spoken. That’s the one, then.”
“I’ll wrap it up,” she whispers.
As soon as she turns away from us, I shift my focus back to Cade. He’s watching the woman move around as she wraps up the ring. When she’s finished, she shows me the bill, tells me about the warranty and shit like that, then I pay, and we walk out of the store together. He carries the bag.
We don’t go home immediately. Instead, we make our way down the street to the local homemade ice cream place. I can’t even remember the last time I came here, maybe when Cade was about five.
Reaching for the handle of the shop, I open the door and dip my chin for him to pass through. He doesn’t hesitate to walk up to the counter and order a waffle cone with a double scoop, a chocolate cookie blast and a peanut butter chocolate chunk thing. I order a double chocolate in a cup.
Instead of sitting inside, we take our ice cream outside, and I guide him around the corner of the building, where I know there is a covered patio for the shop. Sitting down on the hard plastic chair, I watch as Cade places the little bag between us before he starts to eat his cone.
“I know I already asked you once, and you helped pick it out, but I want to make sure you’re seriously good with this,” I say. “This changes a lot about our lives, or it has the potential to.”
Cade licks his peanut butter chocolate chunk, his feet swinging back and forth a few times before his eyes meet mine.
“Dad,” he says, although he sounds a little annoyed.
I wait for him to continue, but he takes another lick before he does, and it slams into me, not for the first time, that he’s still a kid. I missed far too fucking much. I didn’t think I was missing anything at the time.
I was seeing him the times that Destinee allowed, and the times she didn’t want him, thinking that staying out of the court system was best. I stupidly fucking just accepted it, too scared that Destinee would try to fuck me over and win.
That bitch wouldn’t have won shit ever. One drug test, and he would have been mine permanently, like he is now. Never again will anyone come between me and Cade, and I need him to know that.
“Juliette’s been living with us for weeks. Nothing’s changed between us except she takes me to school and sometimes picks me up,” he states, as if it’s all the same to him.
“You had a lot of changes the last few months. You don’t want this. I’ll wait. We can just stay as is.”
He shakes his head from side to side. I watch as his light-brown hair moves.
“I like her—no,” he says firmly, “I love her. She’s nice, and she listens to me even when she doesn’t have to. She cooks, she cleans and smiles—and she means it.”
My lips twitch into a smirk. “She does mean it,” I murmur.
“I know her old boyfriend hurt her. I don’t get how someone could hurt her.”
My ice cream melts, but this conversation is more important than double chocolate ice cream. “I don’t either, bud,” I murmur. “I don’t understand how any man hurts a woman like that. Never even crossed my mind.”
My mind flicks to Destinee. I killed her. I made it hurt. But I didn’t stalk her, I didn’t chase her, I didn’t torture her. She hurt my kid, my blood, my fucking heart. Juliette didn’t hurt a fucking soul.
“She needs us, Dad.”
I know Juliette does need us, but we sure as fuck need her. “We need her, too, yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah, Dad. She’s good. I want her to stay. Forever.”
My lips twitch into a smirk. I dip my spoon into my ice cream, taking a dip before I slip it between my lips.
“Then I’ll marry her, and she’ll stay forever. ”
“Good,” he states.
While we finish our ice cream, our conversation shifts to school, sports, cartoons, and video games.
I fucking love my son. He’s a wealth of information and I could talk to him for hours.
I never thought that I would want kids, but here Cade is, proving that kids are fucking out-of-this-world amazing.
I want more.
With Juliette.
A whole fucking houseful. I’ll be the oldest fuck in the kindergarten class, but I don’t think I give a shit. Call me grandpa, because I want more of them. So many more. Babies who look like Juliette, who look like Cade. I want them all. Dozens.