by Emery Rose
I banged on the front door again—a thick slab of solid oak with a brass knocker shaped like a lion’s head—my limited patience being tested. When the door finally opened, I heard a screaming baby in the background and one look at Jude told me he wasn’t faring much better than me this morning.
“Is Noah ready?”
“You’re early. He’s still eating his breakfast.”
“You look like shit.”
He looked down at his food-splattered T-shirt and raked a hand through his messy brown hair. “Levi’s teething. He was up all night.”
“Rub a little whiskey on his gums.”
“The fuck?” Jude looked scandalized. “He’s only ten months old.”
“I heard that!” Noah yelled from the kitchen. “You sweared.” His hearing was supersonic.
“I said fudge,” Jude yelled back.
I heard a rattling sound and laughed. Noah had a swear jar, courtesy of Lila. By the time he hit his teens, he’d be a fucking millionaire.
“You didn’t rub whiskey on Noah’s gums, did you?” Jude asked as I followed him to the kitchen, passing by the family room, a cavernous space with a stone fireplace, vaulted ceilings and a wall of windows overlooking their five acres, most of which was dedicated to the flowers Lila grew for her floral arranging business.
“Nah. I poured it straight into his sippy cup.”
He snorted. “You’re such a shit.”
“Pay up, Daddy Jude.” Noah pointed at his swear jar on the marble countertop, and Jude transferred the change from his pockets to the jar.
“Hi Daddy.” Noah gave me a big toothless smile from his spot on the stool at the island. Last week he’d lost his front tooth and every single time I saw him, it felt like he’d grown. Changed in the six days since I’d last seen him. He was still dressed in Dallas Cowboys pajamas.
“Hey little man.” I ruffled his dirty blond hair and kissed the top of his head.
Noah was the spitting image of me. Not even biased when I say that my boy was the cutest kid on the planet. But truth be told, when he was born I had hoped he’d come out looking more like Lila. I’d always hated that I looked so different from the rest of the dark-haired blue-eyed McCallister boys. Hated it that I looked so much like him. Bad enough we shared the same DNA, I had to come out looking like my old man too. “How are you doing?”
“Better than Levi. All he does is cry.” He shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth and talked around them. “Can you fix him like you fix the horses?”
“I’ve got this, Noah.” Jude held up his hands like he was the almighty savior. Half the time, I think he actually believed he was. “Leave it to me. It’s all good.”
God forbid Jude would ever say he needed help with anything. I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, watching in amusement as he took a screaming Levi out of his highchair and into his arms. He did everything he could to soothe Levi, but the baby was still screaming.
“Make him stop crying.” Noah blocked his ears with his hands. “We should call Mommy. She’ll know what to do.”
“Your mommy is working. She’s busy with all those weddings so we’re not going to bother her,” Jude said. Noah sighed but he nodded his head in agreement. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll take care of Levi.”
Noah pushed his plate away. He’d left half his pancakes, swimming in syrup which told me Jude was slipping and had left Noah to his own devices. “I can’t eat anymore.”
“Is your bag packed?” I asked him, eating the strip of bacon from his plate and a lone strawberry in a pool of syrup. He nodded. “Go get it. And put on some jeans and a T-shirt.”
Not needing to be told twice, he jumped off the stool and ran out of the kitchen, eager to get away from the screaming baby.
When Noah was out of earshot, I turned to Jude. “Hand him over, you stubborn shit.”
“You think you can do better?” he scoffed.
When we were kids, everything was a competition. Some things never changed. “Can’t do much worse than what you’re doing.” He scowled at me. “You’re so tightly wound I’m scared you might snap. Let me give it a try.”
Reluctantly, Jude handed over Levi, and as if by magic, the baby stopped crying.
“How did you do that?” Jude asked incredulously.
Normally I’d fuck with him but not when it came to his parenting skills. As much as it pained me to admit it, Jude was a good dad and a good stepdad to my son. “He can feel how tense you are. Babies pick up on that shit.”
He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. Growing up, everything had come so easily to Jude. He’d been raised in a loving family, had excelled at school and sports, and everything he’d touched had turned to gold. Until it all turned to shit after he returned from five years of active duty in the Marines.
Jude had always believed he could control everything in his life. But he’d been brought to his knees. I’d taken no joy in his defeat. We used to be tight. There’d been a time when I called him my best friend and brother. The only person I’d ever truly confided in and trusted. When I saw he was struggling, fucking everything up with Lila, I’d tried to help him. But he was so far gone there was only so much I could do. When he ran off and abandoned me and Lila without even so much as a phone call to let us know he was still alive and well, I washed my hands of him. Because fuck that. I saved his motherfucking life. I was there for him and for Lila when nobody else knew what to do to help.
“Were you like this with Noah?” he asked as I rocked Levi back and forth, gently rubbing his back to soothe him. The baby was wiped out, exhausted from screaming his head off.
Wish I could say I’d been able to do this every time Noah cried, but that hadn’t always been the case.
I shook my head. “I used to think Kate was magic. She was able to do the same thing with Noah when me or Lila couldn’t soothe him. Used to upset Lila. Made her feel like she was doing it all wrong. But she wasn’t. That’s just how it is with your own baby sometimes. You want to take away all their pain, but you can’t always do that.”
“He’s asleep,” he said quietly.
“Wore himself out crying.”
Jude ran his hand through his hair. “Thanks.”
I nodded, knowing it pained him to thank me for anything. “No problem. Where do you want him?”
Jude dragged the swing over and I set him inside, making sure his head was supported by the cushioned headrest. Jude turned the swing on and we both watched Levi sleeping as the swing gently rocked him, his face so peaceful and angelic you’d never know he’d been screaming like a lunatic only a short while ago.
“Maybe I can get some work done now.”
“How’s the storm chasing business?” I asked.
Years ago, Jude and his Marine buddy Tommy had started a veteran-led disaster relief non-profit. When Jude and Lila got back together two years ago, he cut back on his time in the field and focused on the leadership, training and fund-raising. Over the years, his organization had grown and now they had tens of thousands of volunteers across the country. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that my silver-tongued cousin had found himself in the limelight once again when he was called upon to give motivational speeches and had even been featured in Time magazine for his innovative business plan and finding hope in the face of adversity. He was lauded as a hero and I guess that was the role he’d always played.
“Business is booming,” he joked. “There’s always a disaster somewhere.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the island facing me. “I hear you’ve got someone staying at the guesthouse.”
“Uh huh.”
“Talked to Ridge last night. He said you went over there for dinner.”
“You were checking up on Ridge?” It was an attempt to change the subject, but I was also curious.
“He’s family.” He took a sip of coffee. “Why wouldn’t I check
up on him?” Like the answer was obvious.
“Was this before, during or after he went out and got shitfaced?”
“Oh shit.” Jude laughed. His gaze swung to Levi. “Not looking forward to the high school years. Especially if he’s anything like us. Did you make him pay for it?”
I chuckled. “Got him mucking out stalls at six thirty this morning.”
“That’ll teach him.”
We both laughed, knowing full well it wouldn’t stop him from going out and doing it again. Just like Patrick’s early-morning drills after our drunken nights out hadn’t deterred us.
“So... your guest?” He folded his arms over his chest and gave me a knowing look. “Have you slept with her yet?”
Now I remembered why I sometimes hate my cousin. He was so fucking smug. “If I did, you’d be the last to know.”
He smirked. Smug bastard. “This should be interesting.”
I didn’t even care to ask what he found so interesting. Noah came into the kitchen, all set to go, and I set my mug in the sink.
He smiled at his baby brother as I took the duffel bag off his shoulder and slid it onto mine. “He’s cute. But ‘specially when he’s sleeping.”
Jude and I shared a laugh.
“Have fun with your dad, slugger.” Jude fist-bumped Noah before he pulled him into a hug. “We’ll see you at Grandma’s tomorrow.”
He nodded and smiled up at Jude. “Don’t forget to bring the football so we can practice,” Noah said.
“When have I ever forgotten?”
“Never. But Grandpa says you have to teach Uncle Ridge how to play so he can be on the team.”
Jude groaned. I snorted. “This should be interesting. Can’t wait to watch you work your magic, Daddy Jude.”
He gave me the finger behind Noah’s back then in typical Jude fashion, he smugly announced. “Piece of cake. I’ve got this.”
Yeah, sure he did. Dumb shit.
I took my son and left without another word. Playing nice with Jude was something I tried to do for Noah. And for Lila. Because I promised her I would. But it sure as hell wasn’t always easy.
I knew he still resented me for what I’d done. Had never truly forgiven me for getting Lila pregnant, even though he claimed he had. Shit like that couldn’t be resolved with a few words over a beer. Not sure I’d forgiven him either. And I sure as hell hadn’t forgotten the hell he’d put Lila through when he came home from Afghanistan. Or the way he’d abandoned her when the going got tough. Only to show up six years later and act like Lila had betrayed him. None of it had been her fault. It was all on me.
The night I’d been with Lila she was too drunk to know what she was saying or doing. Didn’t matter that I was drunk too. A better man would have tucked her in and let her sleep it off. The next morning, I wished I’d done just that. In the harsh light of day, with the mother of all hangovers, I’d never felt like a bigger asshole than I did that morning.
I’d not only slept with my best friend, my cousin’s jilted fiancée and love of his life, I’d knocked her up. What were the chances the condom would break? What were the chances she’d get pregnant after only one try? One in a million. But here we were, one big happy fucked-up family, navigating parenthood the best way we could.
For the sake of everyone involved, Jude and I both lied and pretended we were good with the situation. I wasn’t good with it, but I resigned to make the best of it. Just like I’d been doing for years. When I’d asked Lila to move in with me, she looked at me like I’d lost my everlovin’ mind.
“Are you insane? I can’t live with you.”
“Why not? We’re a family now.”
She shook her head. “We’re not in love. I mean, yeah, we love each other but only as friends. I don’t want Noah to get the wrong idea. Besides, you might meet someone special and I don’t want to be standing in your way.”
“I’m not saying you have to sleep in my bed. Just live with me.”
“I can’t, Brody. You know I can’t.”
And that had been the end of it. We shared custody and Noah got shuttled between two houses but spent the lion’s share of his time with his mom. Not what I would have wanted but you don’t always get what you want.
I tuned into Noah who was chatting a mile a minute from the backseat as I drove.
“I’m working on my other tooth. It’s kind of wobbly. Can we try the string trick?”
I stopped at a red light and adjusted the rearview mirror to see him better. “Why are you in such a hurry to lose your teeth?”
“Cause the tooth fairy comes and makes me rich. And Chase lost both of his front teeth already.” He scowled at the mention of Chase’s name and I stifled a laugh. His rivalry with Chase went back to nursery school when he punched the little weasel for making his best friend Hayley cry.
Guess my boy was more like me than I’d like him to be sometimes.
When Noah and I walked through the front door, the sound of her throaty laughter greeted my ears. Noah looked up at me, eyes wide as we followed the sound of their voices—one male and one decidedly female. “Does Uncle Ridge have a girlfriend?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Lemme see.” Noah ran to the kitchen, needing to find out for himself.
What was she doing here? In my house? Taking a deep breath, I ventured into the kitchen where Shiloh was sitting on the counter, a glass of something green in her hand. She was wearing skinny black jeans, a black cheetah print T-shirt and black leather high tops that were probably designer. Her hair was down, falling halfway down her back, shorter layers framing her face and in the light of day without makeup, she was fucking stunning.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice gruff.
“Nice to see you too, Cowboy. I needed a blender for my breakfast smoothie.” She lifted her glass to me. “Want one?”
“I’m Noah. I want a milkshake!”
He didn’t want a milkshake. He just didn’t want to be left out.
Shiloh smiled at him, giving him her full attention. If she was surprised that I had a son she didn’t show it. “Hi Noah. It’s nice to meet you. I’m... Sh... Viv,” she said, catching herself. “Is that your artwork on the refrigerator?”
Noah nodded. “Yep. I drawed the horses for daddy’s birthday.” He ran over to the refrigerator and rearranged the Tabasco bottle magnets then pointed to the other drawing. “And that one’s for Ridge. He likes fast girls and fast cars. So I drawed a girl runner. And a car.”
Ridge snort-laughed. I shot him a look, having only just heard the inspiration for the drawing. He was shirtless and barefoot, his hair still damp from the shower, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts slung low on his hips.
“Do you want to help me make the smoothie?” Shiloh asked Noah.
Never one to turn down an offer to help or show off, he nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. I’m good at chopping.”
According to Noah, he was good at everything. Nobody had ever told him otherwise.
“Let’s make a smoothie for your daddy too.” She winked at him. “The kale will give him bigger muscles.”
I pulled a face. Kale and apple and god knew what else went into that green drink. No way was I drinking it.
Noah’s eyes widened. “Bigger? He already has big guns. My daddy is ten feet tall and bulletproof. He can fix all the horses and even my baby brother. Right, Daddy?”
I shrugged. Gotta keep the myth alive for as long as my kid believed it. Any day now he’d realize I was all too human and not a miracle worker. I dreaded that day. I dreaded the day he stopped looking at me like I was capable of making his world a better place. But for now, he was still a believer and far be it from me to dispute his claims.
“You know it, buddy.” No mystery where my kid got his bragging rights. Ridge was laughing so hard he was doubled over. I scrubbed my hand over my face.
I’d never introduced Noah to any of my hook-ups. I’d always kept that part of my life separa
te. But Shiloh... she was different. We weren’t even hooking up, but it already felt more intimate than sex with a random girl ever had. And now here she was, in my kitchen, peeling apples and talking with my son while my brother stared at her ass the same way I’d been doing last night.
“Wipe the drool off your mouth,” I said, pulling up a stool at the island next to him.
Talk about a train wreck. Why was this girl barging into my life, taking over my kitchen and commanding the attention of all three males in the room?
“Not bad, huh?” Ridge smirked.
I ignored his smart-ass comment.
“You should invite your friends over more often.”
“Didn’t invite her.”
“You’re saying you don’t want her here?” He was trying to goad me. I wasn’t going to stoop to his teen combat tactics.
I wanted her here. I wanted her in my kitchen. In my bed. On the island. Underneath me. On top of me. I wanted her in every way imaginable.
“Hey Vivienne,” Ridge said over the whirring of the blender, his phone in hand.
“Yeah?” she asked without turning around.
“What kind of music do you like?”
“All kinds.”
“Huh. Okay.” I side-eyed him as he scrolled through his playlists. Seconds later, he hit play, a smirk on his face as “The Ghost of You” by Acadian Storm blasted from the speakers. “This band is in my top ten. Might be inching its way up to number one.”
“Stop being a dick,” I said through clenched teeth. “Change the music.”
“Nah. I like it. You like it, Viv?”
I wrestled the phone out of his hand and cut the music as the blender stopped whirring. For a few seconds, there was total silence.
“I always wonder if bands listen to their own music,” he pondered. The little shit. He was lucky I hadn’t rearranged his face.
Shiloh turned from the counter and set a smoothie in front of me then focused her gaze on Ridge. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you keep this to yourself? I’m here for five and a half more weeks and if you want to hang with me, you totally can. But I don’t want my whereabouts to be all over social media, okay?”