A Family For Keeps

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A Family For Keeps Page 11

by Rheland Richmond


  “Nathaniel?”

  He looked up.

  “Are you ready for dinner?” Tristan asked.

  “Sure. Let me wash up. Need help with Samantha?” he asked. “I can get her washed up too.”

  He looked at him for a second with an imperceptible look in his eyes before nodding. “Yeah, the guest bathroom is down the hall on the right.”

  “Samantha, why don’t you show, Mr, umm Emma’s …” Tristan sighed, giving up. “I don’t know what to call you. I don’t want to confuse her later, but I don’t want to explain it all now either.”

  “Nathaniel’s fine for now.”

  “I don’t like her calling adults by their names,” Tristan confided, “But I guess we gotta make an exception here.”

  “Well, she can’t call me Uncle. It has Daddy’s creepy boyfriend vibes all over it” Nathaniel joked.

  “Until we figure it out let her, just call me Nathaniel, okay? Let’s not complicate things,” he said to Tristan.

  In an effort to lighten the mood, he added, “Let’s get washed up. Looks like dinner’s ready. Smells delicious.”

  Grateful for the distraction from reminding him of their situation, Tristan said, “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

  Later, as the three of them sat around the dining table eating Tristan’s wonderful spaghetti sauce and salad, talking about everything under the sun, Nathaniel wondered how this was going to play out. He remembered when he found out and wanted to pretend none of this had happened.

  He still wished it hadn't happened. But that ship had sailed. The only question for them now was what were they going to do about the situation. And they would have to do something. Because the more time he spent with Samantha, the more difficult he knew it would get to keep walking away.

  He saw the same thing in Tristan today, outside the hospital. He saw how much he’d wanted to hug Emma, and how he restrained himself.

  A part of him hoped that this talk they had about Tristan moving in to recuperate went well. And then, maybe if it did, they could talk about making it permanent. Hell, they could buy houses side by side or somewhere big enough for totally separate wings.

  All he knew was he wanted all his kids to grow up together. And if he had the eye candy that was Tristan on the other side of the house, well, that was certainly no hardship for him.

  Tristan

  After what was actually a not bad dinner, he told Nathaniel he’d be right back because he had to get Sammy ready for bed.

  He could tell Nathaniel wanted to hug Samantha, but he was sure he knew she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

  He took her up to get washed and ready for bed. Before reading her a story, he called Nathaniel up to say good night. Nathaniel walked into his baby girl’s room and looked around, taking everything in. Although he hadn’t gone all out with the pink, you could tell it was a little girl’s queendom.

  He walked up and kissed her on her forehead, which made her giggle. Tristan heard the crack in his voice as he said, “Good night, princess.” He read to her as quickly as a four-year-old would allow and kissed her goodnight. He turned on her night light and turned off the lights. Before he walked out of the room, she whispered sleepily, “Love you, Daddy” before nodding off completely.

  He took a second outside his daughter’s room to catch his breath and gird his loins for lack of a better word before going down to meet with Nathaniel.

  20

  Nathaniel

  The dinner, which he'd imagined would be interminable, was, in fact, over way too soon. Samantha was incredible. So bright and so happy. She was a living example that even though genes played a big part in who we were, so did upbringing.

  He glanced at his watch. It was getting late. He wondered if him being there had exhausted Tristan. He would have left after helping put Samantha to bed, which he loved doing. And even though he didn’t want to overstay his welcome, they needed to talk.

  He heard Tristan before he saw him. “I’ll just tidy up. Then we can talk.” He knew this was a stalling tactic. Unfortunately, he’d gotten antsy waiting and had already done the dishes.

  So he told him, “I already loaded the dishwasher and got it going, and put the leftovers away.”

  “Oh!” he murmured, then looked around aimlessly for a second, then said, “I guess we should talk then. Let’s go into the family room. I can’t have this conversation in the living room. It’ll just feel too formal. We rarely use it as is.”

  It finally dawned on him that Tristan babbled when he was nervous, which he found endearing.

  “Okay,” he told him. “After you.”

  Tristan detoured to the kitchen and got coffee for both of them. He didn’t think they needed it, but it was something to keep their hands busy.

  “So,” he said.

  “So,” Tristan replied.

  “So, uh, how are your parents taking it. I never asked,” Tristan said.

  Of all the questions he could have possibly asked, he definitely had not prepared for that one.

  So he went for the blunt truth. “Never knew my father. And my mother was a junkie whore that’s probably dead. So, no, there are no parents to tell.”

  Nathaniel could see that he had shocked him. He looked like a guppy with the way his mouth was opening and closing as he searched for words.

  He put him out of his misery. “Look, I grew up in foster homes till I aged out. It’s not a big deal, and I’m totally over it. So yeah, if my parents are alive, they don’t care. They never cared about me. Why should they care about my kids?

  “Anyway, there are no confused and anxious relatives waiting in the wings on my side.”

  “Trust me I know all about shitty parents. Mine told me to kick rocks just because I wouldn’t renounce being gay. Like it was a fucking choice. They wanted me in ‘therapy’ or some fucked-up shit like that.

  “Well, um, anyways, moving on. Let’s talk about how we want to deal with this,” Tristan added awkwardly. Nathaniel guessed the man was feeling exposed after the share session.

  He felt bad for making things awkward, but the truth was the truth.

  “I figure we could probably postpone the scheduling till after surgery and recovery. There will be way too much going on for either one of us to focus on anything else. And till Emma is stable, it just won’t make sense making her go back and forth. She’ll want you. Her daddy.” Tristan whispered the last part.

  “I meant what I said at the doctor’s office. I want you and Sammy to move in. It would be the best thing for all of us. I know you want to get to know Emma. I can see the longing and curiosity in your eyes when you look at her. And I’d like to get to know Samantha.” That was the understatement of the century, he tacked on in his head.

  He pushed a little more and started talking about Emma, “I couldn’t imagine life without her in it. She’s so sweet, wickedly cute, and totally uncomplaining. She was never a fussy baby, and she’s so protective of her baby brother. She calls him ‘my baby.’ She’s so full of life and energy. So seeing how this is slowing her down kills me. She would run around the backyard all day, making me push her on her swings, and riding her bike so fearlessly.”

  He saw Tristan smile. It was a little sad. He realized the man was probably recalling memories of his big sister.

  “Shay was like that too, always so full of life and joy. Always searching for the next adventure. The next challenge,” Tristan said wistfully.

  It was nice to finally know where Emma got her adventurous and fearless spirit from, Nathaniel thought.

  He knew he had to push just the right amount. Like any deal you had to know when to stop and let the other guy make his choice after dropping all the incentives, but this was the most important negotiation of his life. He didn’t know why, but he just knew he needed Tristan to say yes, and if he was being honest, it wasn’t just about Sammy.

  Sure, he wanted to know what her favorite food was, what book she liked being read, what her night time routine was, if
she had a blankie or a stuffy. He wanted more than just every other weekend and some weekdays with his daughter. He wanted everything.

  He also wanted to see what parts of her was Tristan. Because she may have been his blood, but she was Tristan’s daughter. You could tell the little girl thought her father hung the moon. He guessed he wanted to see how Tristan and he came together to make a kid.

  If he was being completely honest, he also imagined co-parenting with Tristan. What would it be like? He had never met a man he wanted around his kids, or that he could even fathom sharing them with. Sure, Tristan, and he had this situation thrust upon them, but if he even thought for a second the man wasn’t what was best for the children, both Emma and Samantha, he would have unleashed his lawyers and not stopped till he had both girls in his custody.

  The truth was he saw how he loved their daughter. He wasn’t even sure when he started thinking of the girls as “theirs,” but they were. For all intents and purposes, Samantha and Emma were their kids and wasn’t that just the most major trip of all. He had kids with a man he barely knew anything about and had never seen naked.

  He was honest enough to admit to himself that he actually did want to know more about Tristan. What made him tick? What made him laugh? Also, he wouldn’t mind the other man looking at him, and have those green eyes soften with love and affection. He also couldn’t help but imagine what color they changed to when he was aroused.

  His therapist would probably spout some shit about him building the family he never had and slotting Tristan in without really knowing what he was feeling, but that was such epic BS.

  He wasn’t in love with him. Even he wasn’t that crazy, but there was something, he wasn’t sure what, but there was something about him that felt right.

  He surreptitiously looked at Tristan. They had both been deep in thought for a while now, but it was a comfortable silence. He liked that. He didn’t want it to be awkward between them. He didn’t need that on top of the clusterfuck they were already in.

  He was a hunk. Did people even still use that word? Did he even use that word? That was the best word he could think of to describe him. With his sculpted body that he clearly took care of because he certainly didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He so wasn’t the image of a baker Nathaniel had. And those hands, big strong hands. His tongue swiped across his lips. The hands that looked like they would know what to do with his body. Fuck! He couldn’t, wouldn’t let his mind travel further down that road. Did he mention there were those mesmerizing green eyes?

  Since Emma had fallen sick, he imagined what it would be like to share it with a partner. He imagined having someone to hold him at night when his fears got the best of him. And he wondered what it would feel like not always being the strong one. He never let his mind go there too often, but having Tristan at the hospital during Emma’s visit, even though he was mostly silent, just his presence had kept Nathaniel steady and strong.

  In the past week or so, he’d asked Tristan to consider doing something he’d never ever have anticipated, and the man stepped up, no question asked. That was someone he wanted on his side, or at his side, by his side? He wasn’t sure which one quite yet... even as his mind called him a liar. His heart and mind seemed to be getting on board, and his body was already there.

  He sighed and waited with bated breath for Tristan to share what he was thinking. He looked over at him sprawled in his chair with his feet crossed neatly at the ankles, engrossed in thought. The man must have gotten lost in his head because he didn’t seem to realize Nathaniel was still with him. Or if he did, he wasn’t acknowledging his presence. It gave him a chance to study him uninterrupted. He couldn’t help but notice the muscular thighs under the fabric of his jeans, the long line of his neck as he watched him swallow nervously, and that Adam’s apple he just wanted to nibble on and drag his tongue across to get a taste of him. God, what would his skin taste like.

  Snap out of it, Nathaniel. He could bet the poor man wasn’t even thinking about him like that. Focus on getting him to say yes and stop thinking about him being horizontal in your bed.

  21

  Tristan

  As he studied Nathaniel, a whole ton of emotions blinked out at him from those unnerving eyes. Did he read caution, fear, and rejection?

  He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like Nathaniel relating those emotions to him. He never wanted the man afraid of him. He felt like pacing because his body seemed to have way too much nervous energy at the moment. But he didn’t want his nerves to show either.

  A part of him wanted to take the coward’s way out and call his friends, but he knew this was a decision he had to make himself. Plus, he wasn’t sure if he wanted them to talk him into, or out of, moving in with Nathaniel.

  The truth was the man distracted him. There was a coldness to him at first glance, but then, if you took the time to keep looking, you saw the chinks in his impenetrable armor. Especially around the children. It was like he melted completely.

  Hearing the matter of fact way he spoke about his parents, he knew there were wounds there that had yet to heal. And probably would never completely heal. Which he could totally relate to.

  He really shouldn’t be finding the man so fascinating. There weren’t just stumbling blocks in their way; there were freaking boulders and craters. Plus, if they were gonna co-parent for shit, they couldn’t let it get all messy with emotions. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. Right?

  What if they gave in to the attraction? Assuming it wasn’t completely one-sided. Did Nathaniel even find him attractive? Sure, he had caught the man staring, but he couldn’t really get a read on what was going through his mind. For all he knew, the man didn’t even see him as anything more than a means to an end.

  He probably wasn’t even thinking about all that, seeing as he had a sick kid. He could have kicked himself for his narcissism. But the man caused a reaction in him. He made him feel things. Crap on a cracker! He sounded like something out of a chick flick. Or some old-timey historical romance. Not that he read those. The bookshelves crammed full of his stories, less than a foot away from where he stood, called him a liar.

  His reaction to the man was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Maybe it was because those eyes and those features were so similar to his daughter’s? And maybe it was because he was just amazing to look at? But he knew it was more than that. There was something about him, especially when he let his guard down. There was a longing he couldn’t mask, a gentleness lurking behind all the coldness.

  It made Tristan want to hold him tight and promise never to let go. And that was a feeling he just couldn’t understand. It was ludicrous of course. The man would probably throat-punch him. Or something equally as painful.

  It wasn’t like he had been celibate since he became a dad, but between his business and Samantha, it was hard meeting people. And damn near impossible maintaining a relationship.

  The last time he did date, well, that was an epic fail for the ages. He’d thought he saw a future with Leo. But at the end of the day, he couldn’t get over the fact that Leo never warmed up to Samantha. Sure, the man had said and done all the right things. But she was always “your kid.” He just knew that if they ended up together, he would never have seen Samantha as theirs.

  He would never put his daughter through feeling unwanted. He knew what that felt like. He would never do the same to her.

  He knew the pros of the situation. It wasn’t like they could suddenly start leaving four-year-olds at stranger’s houses for alternate weekends and certain weekdays without some sort of adjustment/transition period.

  Although the thought of leaving his baby with someone for that long made his skin feel like it was blistering off. Sure there were times he needed a “him” day. But actually having to give his baby up for a set time every week made him physically ill.

  Maybe this living together thing made sense. It was probably Nathaniel’s reasoning for it. The man didn’t seem like the type to want to pa
wn his daughter off on someone for any amount of time. He barely used his nanny for Christ’s sake.

  The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. They could talk about maybe even buying houses next door or something along those lines in the future. Hell, they could buy land and build houses on the same property.

  He’d made his decision. So he put Nathaniel out of his misery. It looked like the man was holding his breath. Tristan saw a flash of resignation like Nathaniel thought he would reject him. Which was absurd. He must have misread that look because Nathaniel would probably have been disappointed if he’d decided to turn the offer down, not devastated.

  “Let’s do it,” he said to Nathaniel. “Samantha and I will come live with you guys for the surgery and recovery. We’ll figure the rest out after.”

  Nathaniel visibly relaxed, which surprised him. The man came across as so self-assured, but he guessed he wanted this. A lot.

  “But if it’s not working, we leave. Samantha and I will leave. No arguments. No questions asked.”

  Nathaniel smiled, and nodded, repeating after Tristan, “No questions asked.”

  Tristan took in that smile. It was all warm and sincere, and his mouth dried. He wanted to see Nathaniel smile more often. It was a smile he could fall in love with.

  22

  Nathaniel

  Tristan had dominated his mind all night long. All he could think was what would it be like to hold him. To feel that chest under his cheek. To have his arms around him. Fuck and popsicle sticks! He shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

  He remembered back to dinner when Tristan’s body was bent at the waist, picking out a bottle of wine. His long legs seeming to go on forever. Nathaniel’s body tensed as flashes of caressing those legs, of kissing his way from his knees to where that beautiful plump ass waited, warm and snug, for him.

 

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