Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Mia
I ’ve been nauseous since receiving Angus’s messages this morning. So shaky inside and out that it took me three times to take my first patient's blood pressure. Unable to hear the pumping of their heart through my stethoscope over the thundering of my own. Half of what my patients said to me went in one ear and out the other because my brain had no room for anything other than Gus’s text.
It took until the end of my lunch break to contain my shaking fingers enough to text him back.
Angus:
Morning, Goof. I have a huge favor to ask of you. The pipes in the loft burst and I need a place to crash. If I promise to stay out of your way, are you cool with me moving into the house temporarily? You keep my room. I’ll use the spare.
Mia
Of course, it’s your house. But I don’t mind changing rooms when I get home. I’ll start looking for a new place so we can get out of your hair.
He answers right away, as if he was waiting for me to reply all morning.
Angus
Don’t you dare. My place is still your place. That hasn’t changed.
Mia
I don’t mind though.
Angus
Stop. I’ll see you when you get home.
Our text conversation ended over four hours ago, yet it’s lived rent-free in my head ever since. So, when Sawyer and I pull up to the house and find Angus’s pickup parked out front, my insides twist and I break out into a cold sweat.
I can’t do this.
I cannot live with Angus McKinnon.
Not after our night at the hotel. Having my heart involved with this man isn’t new, but it feels more fragile than ever. Like it may shatter into a million pieces if I’m not careful.
Stepping out of the car, into the chilly evening air, I take a deep fortifying breath before I open the back door to get my baby boy out of his car seat.
“Come on, my tired little man,” I say, pressing a kiss on his fuzzy winter hat on our way up the porch steps. “I love you, my sweet boy.”
“Wuv you, Mama,” he says with a sleepy voice.
My steps stutter and the part of my heart reserved only for the boy in my arms swells. There’s no stopping the tears that fall as I open the front door and am hit with the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen.
I drop my purse and Sawyer’s backpack on the floor to wipe my tears away.
Angus’s deep voice startles me. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen to Sawyer at day care?”
“Gus?” Sawyer lifts his head, instantly reaching for the concerned man who’s now standing far too close.
Angus takes Sawyer from me, only adding to my emotional state. It’s too much. Seeing the two of them together is already breaking my heart.
“Mia, please.” He sounds desperate. “Who did this to you?”
I can barely see him through the pools in my eyes, but there’s no hiding the concern in his voice. It’s apparent he thinks someone has hurt me and wants to come to my rescue.
Pointing to Sawyer, I can’t help but chuckle through my sobbing. “He did.”
“What do you mean, Goof?”
“Mama, no cry,” Sawyer says from Gus’s arms.
“Babe, please tell me what’s wrong?” He takes a step closer, bending to look me in the eye.
Babe?
Nope.
Not gonna address that at the moment.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
“He told me he loved me for the first time,” I blubber.
Angus’s face lights as he smiles from ear to ear. Closing the gap between us, he presses his forehead against mine. Sawyer wraps an arm around each of our necks. “Good job, buddy.”
Angus doesn’t kiss me, but the moment is more intimate than it could ever be with his lips on mine, because it’s the three of us. The two men in my life. He may not be mine, but Angus is incredibly important to me. He always has been.
Sharing this sweet moment with him means the world to me. Moments like this are what I dream about, but what I’m most afraid of is that too many moments like this will turn into a living nightmare in the end.
This is dangerous.
Space. We need space.
“Something smells good.” I try to change the subject and step away, but Sawyer still has a hold on each of us, keeping us connected.
Angus’s breath tickles my face when he replies. “I’m making you dinner. My way of saying thanks for letting me invade your space.”
My heads spins with the need to kiss his beautiful lips hovering only inches away. Instead, I take a step backward.
He clears his throat. “Come on, little man. Let’s let Mommy take a load off.” They move to the great room, where he sets Sawyer down on the couch. When he pulls his hat off his head his fine toddler hair, full of static, sticks straight up. “Bud, look at your hair. You’re stylin’, dude.” Angus carries on, helping him with his coat and shoes. Sawyer is wide awake and ready to play now.
“Gus, play vroom truck!” He jumps from the couch, running to his room, leaving us alone.
“Sorry about the silly waterworks,” I say, shrugging off my coat, hanging it on the hook by the front door.
“Not silly at all,” he says, crossing the room to hang up Sawyer’s coat and drop his shoes next to the ones I just took off.
And just like that, we obliterate the distance between us.
“You didn’t need to make dinner.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” He reaches for me and just as his thumb caresses my cheek, the patter of socked feet running down the hall has him dropping his hand, but his gaze remains fixed to mine for several heartbeats before he turns toward my boy.
“Vroom, vroom.” Sawyer soars a plastic dump truck in the air with one hand, his other carries a tow truck he holds out for Angus.
“You get them warmed up for me and I promise to play after dinner.”
“No! Gus play now!” he whines, stomping his feet.
“Sawyer Brian Powell,” I say, using my mom voice.
My tired boy drops himself to the ground, landing on his diaper-clad bottom. His lower lip quivers and I know the waterworks are on deck. He’s exhausted and melting down. I’m about to step in, but Angus beats me to it.
“Bud, I made you a special spaghetti dinner and it’s time to eat. I promise we’ll play after dinner.”
Sawyer's lower lip still quivers as one giant crocodile tear hangs onto his lower lashes for dear life.
“I will never break a promise to you, buddy. Never.”
Angus means what he says with everything that he is. He is one of the most loyal, dependable people I have ever known. The only lie he’s ever told me was that we would only have one night together, because he gave me a second.
Sawyer nods his head in understanding.
Easing Sawyer’s toys out of his hands and then picking him up, the tattooed man who just promised my son he would never go back on his word, walks to the already set table and secures Sawyer in his high chair.
“Come on, Momma, time for dinner. Go get out of your scrubs.”
In a daze, I follow his instructions, and change out of my work clothes and into equally comfortable yoga pants and an oversized off the shoulder sweater. When I meet them at the table, Sawyer is chewing on a piece of garlic bread while Angus pours two glasses of red wine.
Why is he doing this? Why the effort? Has he changed his mind about the possibility of there being an us?
“There she is.”
“Momma!” Sawyer holds out a fist full of slobbery bread.
“Hey, sweetie. Looks yummy.”
“Yummy, Momma.”
My eyes drift over to Angus. He’s watching me and when I catch him, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he says barely above a whisper, “Hey.”
One word. That’s all it takes and I am a mess. If I hadn’t just landed in my seat, I would be a puddle on the floor.
“Hey,” I reply.
“It’s nothing fancy. Just a Caesar, spaghetti, and garlic bread. I wasn’t sure how you wanted to handle the sauce with this little guy, so I gave him bread to start.”
“Thanks.”
I’m not sure what else to say.
“Dig in, Goof.”
“It’s amazing how much work taking care of a kid is. It’s a good thing he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Angus plops down on the couch on a heavy sigh.
“I’m convinced it’s nature’s way of keeping them alive while they’re young. I mean, that face of his, it’s hard to stay firm with him sometimes,” I say from the kitchen, where I’m finishing up. Dinner was fantastic, but wow, did he blow up the kitchen.
He hung out with us during bath time and while I brushed Sawyer’s teeth and got him into his pajamas. Angus read him a bedtime story or three and I’ve been cleaning up in here after the bomb that went off while dinner was being made. It’s nice to know the man isn’t perfect after all.
His phone rings, but before he answers, he rises from the couch and heads toward the front door. “I’ll be right back.”
Waving a hand in acknowledgement, I don’t miss the flex of his jaw or the seriousness of his tone.
Done with the kitchen, I grab my e-reader from my bedroom. Well, his bedroom and settle myself into my favorite corner of the oversized couch, cover myself in a soft fleece blanket that hangs over the back, and attempt to read the sexy billionaire romance I’m halfway through. If only I could get past the first sentence on the page. My mind is a roller coaster of questions and crazy thoughts.
Why did he have to go outside to take his call?
Who is he talking to?
Is he seeing someone?
Should I be moving my things to the spare room instead of sitting here reading?
I should start looking for a new place to live, so the man can have his house back.
But I don’t want to move out. In fact, I want the plumbers to take their time, lose parts and maybe never finish the loft. Not only would I get to keep Angus as a roommate, but he wouldn’t have his den of sex to take women back to.
The front door opens and keeping my eyes on my tablet, I wait until he’s sitting in the same spot he was when he got up, before I say anything.
“Everything okay?”
“Just one of my old army buddies. There’s this podcast host who's been asking me to be on their show for the last couple of years. He’s resorted to reaching out to one of the guys from my platoon, but I’m not interested.”
“Why don’t you want to do it?”
“There aren’t too many CMHs around and I get a lot of offers, but I’m not a fan of all the special treatment. I’m no different from any of the other soldiers I served with. I was just one of the lucky ones who survived.”
He never discusses his Congressional Medal of Honor. This is not where I thought our conversation was going, but I’m glad he trusts me enough to talk to about it.
“Yes, but you also saved others. You weren’t lucky, you were brave,” I say, from the other end of the couch. “You are special, Angus. I wish you could see that.”
His eyes search mine. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but all I want to do is crawl into his lap and hold him. Make him feel as special as he is.
“I’ve talked to my therapist about it, and she thinks it might be good for me. I’m just not sure.”
He has a therapist?
Why this surprises me, I’m not sure, but I’m glad to hear it. My heart warms at the thought. He portrays himself as this stoic man who doesn’t offer smiles freely, but if you’re fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of one, it’s everything. After the trauma he’s been through, I’m glad he’s talking to someone. I’m glad to see him smiling more these days.
“You know we’re all really proud of you. CMH medal or not.”
His gaze falls to his hands resting in his lap. He almost looks ashamed, which was far from my intention.
“I’m really glad you're alive.” It’s true. Losing Chris was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. I cannot imagine if we had lost Angus, too.
This brings his gaze back up to me. He doesn’t speak, but there’s an unspoken question in his eyes that I don’t know how to answer.
The man is breaking my heart.
“You deserve good things, Angus. You deserve gratitude from those who are grateful for what you’ve done and for just being in their lives. I bet people could learn a lot from you.”
“I’m no teacher.”
His tone is somber. Maybe the compliment route isn’t the way to go.
“What kind of offers have you gotten?”
“Speaking engagements. Book deals. Podcasts.” He shrugs.
“Wow, my roomie’s a hot commodity.”
I reach out with my foot to nudge his leg and he grabs it. Before I know it, he’s giving me a glorious food rub. My instinct is to pull away, because he’s the one who deserves the pampering, but it seems to relax him, keeping him busy while he shares a part of him we’ve never talked about.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but there have been some quite lucrative offers over the years. It just doesn’t seem right to profit off the worst day of my life, you know?”
“I get it.”
“I’d do anything for those I care about and those I served with were my family. It’s what you do.”
He doesn’t mention Chris. He doesn’t have to. It’s too hard for him. They may not have been brothers by blood, but they were brothers, nonetheless.
“Kind of like what you’re doing for me and Sawyer. Giving us a place to live and pretending to be my husband.”
“When are you gonna realize I’d do anything for you?”
“Because we’re family?”
Where the hell am I going with this?
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
His mood seems to shift as we watch each other. One of his hands slides up my calf. My body heats from his touch along with the implications of his reply. Before his hands can slide any further, I pull my leg away, tucking it under me.
Say something, Mia.
Say something!
As if throwing me a lifeline, Sawyer cries. I bolt to my feet at the same time Angus does. Both of us grasping the flotation device.
“Goodnight,” he says, sounding frustrated as he walks out of the room.
I follow, stopping at Sawyer’s door. Angus saunters to the spare bedroom he insists on sleeping in. He doesn’t look back at me before he closes the door.
How did I get myself into this mess?