Mason darts out, hugging my legs. “Vance!”
“What … did you just get into town?” Lara looks surprised, but not in a way that I’m scared she might throw me off her doorstep.
“Had a bad loss today. Just wanted to see you guys,” I give her the simple explanation.
“Well, come on in. That is, if you can detach the dinosaur from your leg.” Lara makes a motion of play-attack toward Mason, who is suctioned around my calf.
He shrieks and stumbles off, running in a way only a toddler can.
“Thanks. I didn’t know if you’d be open to this. But you were the only thing I could think of that would cheer me up.” I put emphasis on the word you, trying to make it clear that I want to see her, aside from our son.
Lara looks edible in her tight black lounge pants, plain baby blue long sleeve that matches her eyes, and her hair twirled up on the top of her head. Her face is free of any makeup, not that she needs it. With long natural lashes and a pert little mouth, I think about all the ways I can unwind with her when Mason goes off to bed.
* * *
After another dinner as a family, which lifts my spirits more than I ever thought it could, Lara and I put Mason to bed.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asks, moving to pull two glasses down.
“That would be brilliant.” I nod, crossing to her couch.
I’m going to have to find a hotel for tonight, I can’t go to my parents. If I go there, they’ll only drill me with questions about why I’m in town, if they can meet their grandson yet. I’ve been holding them at bay, but I can feel Mum’s annoyance growing by the day. No, I’ve had enough frustration in the last twelve hours, better not to venture home.
Lara brings the glasses over. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I mutter, never breaking eye contact as we drink.
“I still remember what you told me about breaking eye contact over a sip.” She smiles to herself, and if I’m not mistaken, I think I see a blush creep up her cheeks.
“Oh, yeah?” I try to lace some charm into my voice.
“No one wants seven years of bad sex.” Those blue eyes dart to the side, and she hastily takes another drink like she’s said too much.
“No. They don’t.”
My sex drive screams in my ears, kiss her, kiss her. He’s raring to go and it’s the first time I’ve gotten Lara alone, in a situation where she might not bite my head off, since I started pursuing her again.
But I can’t. It’s not the right time. I still have no idea where her thinking is at about us.
“Should we talk about a custody agreement? Or visitation schedule?” It has been a few weeks since I confessed my feelings, and Lara hasn’t reciprocated.
I know we can’t keep going like this, that at some point the camel’s back is going to break. It’s better to have a plan in place. And if that plan isn’t going to be me wooing her back, then I have to be smart for my son.
Lara blinks, and I can feel the warmth of her hand laying so close to mine on the back of the couch. I take a sip of wine, the rich red invading my brain with a haze.
“Why would we need to do that?” Her voice is quiet.
“To protect ourselves. So I can protect myself.” My words are barely above a whisper.
“I wouldn’t keep him from you.” Lara’s eyes don’t leave mine.
“I don’t think you would. But you never know. If this isn’t … if you and I—”
What I’m trying to say is that if she decides she doesn’t want to try to fall in love with me again, then we have to have rules. Somewhere down the line, as much as my hands ball into fists at the thought, one of us could find someone else. Who knows what a man dating her would say about Mason’s biological father always dropping in unannounced.
“What if … what if I want to try?”
Breathing ceases to be an activity my body can perform.
“Do you?” I choke out on my last bit of air.
“Yes.” The word almost isn’t audible.
Our mouths are so close now, with every uttered piece of speech we lean in farther. I can feel her breath on my lips, feel the tiny hairs that stand up on her hand.
Lara clears her throat, then downs the last of her glass. “You can stay here if you want. On the couch. It’s late. I’ll get you some blankets.”
And with that, she stands up, breaking the moment.
She wants to try. Lara is open to, what? Dating me? It seems like such a juvenile word with all that we’ve been through.
But if juvenile is what I get, it’s what I’ll take.
After all, we did our best work as juveniles.
25
Lara
“I’m going to ask your mummy on a date tonight.”
I hear this from where I stand, opening the post, at the small table I have near the front door.
Um, what?
Mason is babbling when I walk in to the two of them cuddled up on the couch, Sesame Street playing on the TV.
“Mummy date Daddy.” He grins.
Vance seems to stumble over that word. “Well … er … yes. Your mother is going to be dating your father, but Mason, I’m not sure you quite understand—”
“What’s this about a date?” I interject hastily, not wanting Vance to be the one to explain the birds and the bees to our son.
That thick head of midnight black hair shoots up, and per usual, it’s an electric jolt to the heart to behold Vance’s face. All of those sharp angles, strong jawline, cleft chin, and bugger, those eyes. It’s impossible not to stare at him, to think about him, with all of that to fancy.
“Elmo funny!” Mason giggles, and Vance lights up like a Christmas tree.
He may not know how rewarding it is to hear your toddler speak for the first time, but it’s clear that the gorgeous man cuddling our son on my sofa is enamored by the phrases Mason is putting together.
Oh, and that adorable dimple that appears whenever he smiles? Blimey, it makes me weak in the knees.
It took everything in me to stay in my own bed last night. When Vance had shown up at our door unexpectedly, I won’t lie and say my heart didn’t skip two beats. So when I knew he was lying on my couch, all of those muscled limbs stretched out just feet away from me; I think I stared at the ceiling awake most of last night.
“Make sure he listens to them counting,” I instruct before going back to my post sorting.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean … I wasn’t going to suggest he call me his father.” He looks apologetic as he walks up to me.
It’s a complicated situation. Most times, when a single mum starts dating again, she’s cautious about introducing her children to a new man. There is the awareness of not trying to replace their father, or the slow slide it takes to acquaint another male role model into their lives.
But with Vance and Mason, it’s a whole new playing field. Because he actually is his father. How am I supposed to explain to my son, who is under two years old, that he can no longer think about Louis, the man who raised him since birth, as his father? How am I supposed to force him to call Vance “Daddy,” or institute the relationship when he’s so used to having Louis around?
It’s a mess, is what it is. I haven’t figured out which path to take, much less begin to go down it.
Not that Louis is making much of a case for staying in Mason’s life. Honestly, I’m disappointed. I really thought that they had their own special bond, regardless of what our romantic involvement was. But, I haven’t heard from Louis since the night he stormed over and confronted me about Vance being Mason’s biological father. Mason hasn’t asked after his whereabouts, and that strikes a note of sadness inside me.
It makes me feel like a rotten mum for being, well, almost happy that Louis isn’t trying to come around. If I don’t have to juggle the both of them, Mason will just be left to turn to Vance as his father figure. That makes me horrid, doesn’t it?
“It’s all right. I just … I want to take thin
gs slow. But, a date sounds nice.” I give him a small smile.
“Well, I have to admit, it won’t be that eventful. I thought I could order in takeout from Pucci’s, since Mason will be sleeping here. I just … I don’t want people to know I’m in town.”
My heart dims a little. Here I thought we were starting over, trying to have a normal relationship this time through. And he’s suggesting staying in, hiding in my flat, instead of showing our neighbors that we’re together.
Instantly, Vance’s eyes flood with panic. “No, Lara, that’s not what I mean. Of course, I want to take you out out. Believe me, if I could drive you to London right now I would book a reservation at the poshest restaurant in town. But with all the tabloid stories, I thought it would be better to protect Mason if we just stayed in. It’s just sensitive right now, and I want as much time with the two of you in private before the media begins invading our lives again.”
Oh. Well, that does make sense. “As long as you’re not repeating the patterns we set up in our relationship way back when.”
Vance does something unexpected, bridging the gap between us and pulling me into a hug. Thus far, he hasn’t even attempted to make another move after our kiss that ended my engagement.
That’s always been Vance, though, making the move when you least expect it. It throws my heart for a loop, and I can’t help but melt into the embrace. His muscles twitch under the arms I have wrapped around his tapered waist, and I wish I didn’t have to think so much before getting naked with him. Because right now, with all of my parts pressed against all of his, a sharp need pulses in my core. It reminds me just how desperate I’ve always been for Vance.
He groans into my hair, and I know that he’s taking this chance to feel every curve of my body over my clothes. A fire starts low in my belly, my thighs itching with anticipation, though I know we can’t do anything about it right now.
Large callused fingers tip my chin back, his hand maneuvering my jaw so I have to look up at him.
“I promise you, I will never put you in the background again.”
Again, it’s a simple statement. But if Vance looks you in the eye and says something, then he genuinely means it.
We stare into each other’s eyes for another minute or so.
“So, how’s about that date? I’ll settle for pad Thai on the living room floor. It’ll be the cheapest night you’ll ever have?”
26
Vance
Mum and Dad stand in the entryway to their house holding hands.
Or more gripping hands, because both of them look as if they might spontaneously combust if either of them lets go.
“Can you two calm down, please?” I try to keep my voice level, but they’ve gone mental.
“This is a big day, darling. I’m just so nervous.” Mum wipes her free hand on her pant leg and smiles at me nervously.
“I know it is. But don’t fret, he’s a friendly little lad.”
They’ve been asking me for weeks if they can meet my son. Messaging, calling, trying to sneak the idea through Harlow. My sister has talked to me more in the last month than she has in well, probably all the years she’s been alive. And after our “date” last night, I finally convinced Lara to let my parents meet Mason.
This morning, I let them know I’m in Brighton, and here we are, just hours later. It’s going to be an awkward interaction, but I’m also excited. My parents are good, loving people, and I have no doubt they’ll love their grandson as much, if not more, as they do their children.
I also want them to see how my small family of three interacts. I know they’re not pleased with Lara, but this is the woman I plan to spend my life with. They’re going to have to move past this obstacle.
Last night, Lara and I had a feast of Thai food delivered. We spread it out on the floor, lit a candle on the coffee table, sat on pillows and just talked.
Out of anyone I’ve ever met, the only person who gets me to open up like she does is Lara. I’m usually not conversational, but something about sitting across from her makes me want to flirt, listen, and tease. Not a lot of people would call me a charming bloke, but when I’m with Lara, it’s a different story.
We talked for hours, about everything and nothing. She told me about teaching, about how she got to instruct students on the books she’s always loved. She told me the story of Mason’s birth, when he took his first steps, the way he spit out carrots the first time he tried them. I told her about all the shite I’m going through at the academy, and how I’ve worked out at the Brighton facilities. Not that I want to get her hopes up, but with every passing second spending time with them in their flat, I want to be here full time.
And then we got into deeper conversation. Lara opened up to me about how lost she felt after I left. How stricken she was when she took that pregnancy test and knew she couldn’t come to me. It gutted me to think about that young, fiery bird I knew feeling so alone. I admitted to her that I was a daft idiot, that I was trying to protect my own heart rather than work through our issues.
But we were young, we both agreed on that. I didn’t tell her this, but maybe we were working out exactly the way we were supposed to.
The doorbell rings, and it’s Dad who jumps up to answer it.
“Ann Marie, so good to see you. It’s been too long,” he says as he swings the door open.
Standing on my parent’s front step are Lara, Lara’s mother, Ann Marie, and Mason. Lara has Mason’s nappy bag slung over her shoulder, and Mason is bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Ocean?” He looks up at me and asks, because he remembers being here when we played on the beach.
“Sure, we can go out to the ocean. You’ll have to bundle up again.” I crouch down and spread my arms, and my son walks into them for a hug.
I turn my head when I hear a gasp from across the room.
Mum looks like she might faint. Or cry. I can’t quite tell which. She and Dad are staring at Mason as if he might open his mouth and my voice will come out.
“Blimey, he’s you as a toddler,” Mum whispers.
I nod. “He does look a lot like me.”
“You carry them for nine months and they come out looking like their father,” Lara quips.
It’s a rather bold statement, seeing as she may be on thin ice with my parents. I’m sure we’re all going to have an awkward discussion later about why she kept their grandson from them for a year and a half.
“Hello, Mason. I’m your grandpa.” Dad bends down to get eye level with my son.
Mason tilts his small head, regarding this new grown up in front of him. “Pa?”
Dad nods enthusiastically. “Brilliant. I’ll be Pa. Would you like to go see the presents your nana and I bought for you?”
He stands, offering the toddler his hand.
“Presents!” Mason throws his hands up and then eagerly accepts my father’s hand, the two of them walking off deeper into my parent’s house.
“Good to know that all he needs to be lured away is the mention of presents.” Lara chuckles.
“That boy sure does love a good gift.” Ann Marie smiles.
“Please, come in,” I say while ushering them into the house, because apparently my mother has lost her ability to speak.
I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed this in my life.
Mum stares after Dad and Mason as if she’s seen a ghost.
Ann Marie walks to her and lays a hand on her arm. There is a smile in her voice when she speaks. “It’s quite a shock, right?”
“You could say that. I had no idea.” Mum turns her head to look at Lara’s mother.
Something passes between them, a look of experienced motherhood and shared … pain? I suppose it’s because Lara kept this secret from us all. For good reason, but she still did so. The rest of us are still adjusting to our new reality.
“Would you like to go meet your grandson?” Ann Marie extends her hand, wanting my mother to take it.
Mum nods, but pauses, turn
ing to Lara. “Thank you for bringing him over here. I have to admit, I’m not pleased with how long it’s taken. But you are his mother. Someday soon, I’d like to sit down. But right now, I think … yes, I’d like to go spend the afternoon with my grandson.”
Lara nods, her face somber.
We’re all going to have wounds to patch up, reasoning to understand. It won’t be easy, bloody hell it’s going to be incredibly hard I figure. But at least we’re all here, trying to come together for Mason.
So, that’s what we do. My mum walks in and sits down on the rug, and my parents along with Lara’s mum spoil Mason rotten for the next three hours.
27
Lara
The next month flies by, and between the end of term at school and juggling my home life, I can barely see straight.
Most weeks, I’m flitting about to remain an ace teacher and mum at the same time. Without Louis around, I’m handling a lot more than I used to, and it’s not as if I can ask Vance to take his half of the load. He’s still at the academy, though I sense his loyalty will run out shortly.
At least I have his parents on my side now; Roberta has been instrumental in keeping my life on track. She picks Mason up from nursery school on days I need to stay late at school, grade papers, or plan lessons. She came over to stay with him while he napped last week when I had to go to a baby shower for a friend. And in general, Vance’s parents have been almost splendid about it all.
There was the one conversation we all had, while my mum watched Mason in the other room. Roberta and Mason’s father, Kip, sat across from Vance and I at their dining room table, silent as church mice. I could practically hear their reproachful glares, or maybe I was imagining it. Roberta began to cry and asked what they’d done that I kept this from them. I tried to explain, without going through the details of mine and Vance’s breakup with a fine-tooth comb, that it was very complicated. But that I’d never meant to hurt them. That I’d done it to preserve Mason’s heart and not break theirs. I admitted that I cocked up, that the decision I made gutted them and apologized for that.
The Mighty Anchor: Rogue Academy, Book Three Page 14