The Blessing (The Colorado Series Book 1)

by Elizabeth Price

  “It’ll be all right, Trevor.” He pauses for a moment, and then smiles and adds, “We’ve got to get together soon.”

  “I know, man. It’s been a minute. I’ve just been so sidetracked with everything going on.”

  Fuck, I’ve been so sidetracked, I’ve barely talked to Travis at all. I’ve sent him a text here and there, but he hasn’t the slightest clue about any of the shit that has gone down recently. I know I need to be a better friend to him. I haven’t had that many good friends in my life, so I don’t have any experience when it comes to people actually caring about me. He’s been a great friend for so long. Sure, he was more of my brother’s friend growing up, but the three of us had been really close before I moved away. Once I moved, my circle of friends was always too high to really care about anything. I know I have to reach out to him. Other than Grey and my dad, he feels like the only piece of Dean I have left. I need to hold onto that.

  “We’ll get together soon,” I promise. “I’ll text you about it tomorrow. Plus, you have Grey’s birthday party to come to.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got his present already picked out and everything.” He smiles, but it falters as he looks over my shoulder in confusion as he asks, “Who’s that chick?”

  I look behind me and try not to roll my eyes. Turning back to face him, I say, “Some woman named Brenda. She was hitting on me earlier when I was trying to get some vegetable shortening.” I notice Travis smile in her direction and add, “You should go for her, man. I bet she’d be interested.”

  Travis smiles and shakes his head. “No, man. I shouldn’t be dating. I’m trying to focus on myself right now and fix a lot of stuff in my own life.”

  “That’s great, man. I was doing that before Ronnie came into my life, but once I met her, I knew she was too important to ignore. I had to work on myself while I was falling in love with her.”

  Travis smiles at me. Probably because I’m grinning like a fucking idiot.

  “Well, maybe one day I’ll be as lucky as you.”

  I smile at him, hoping that one day he’ll find a girl as great as mine. We part ways after making plans to touch base about getting together later in the week. I pay for my groceries and get the fuck out of the store as soon as I can. Who knew a grocery store on a holiday would be so chaotic? Traffic is a nightmare on the way back also and it takes me an extra half hour to get home. When I do arrive, I’m so fucking thrilled I grab the groceries and Grey before practically running upstairs, so I can see my girl as soon as possible. Is it sad that I miss her after only a few hours?

  “Babe, I’m back!” I call out as soon as I walk through the door of her apartment.

  Since she’s practically living with me now, her whole living room has been transformed into a dining room for our dinner tonight. Ronnie comes out of the kitchen, now wearing a cotton dress with her makeup done, but her hair is still wrapped in a towel. She gives me an apologetic smile. I only have a second to feel confused before I realize why she’s looking at me in this peculiar way.

  A stern looking man with a mustache that looks like it came right out of a seventies porno walks out of the kitchen. He stops short and appraises Grey and me. I feel my stomach drop. I’m fucking speechless as I stare dumbly right back. Even if Ronnie hadn’t told me he was military, it’s obvious by the way he holds himself. He just has this vibe about him that says, “I’ll take you down if you mess with my daughter,” and it’s very fucking intimidating.

  “Trevor,” Ronnie says, breaking the uncomfortable silence which descended upon the room the second her dad entered it. “This is my dad, Bryant. Dad, this is my fiancé, Trevor Warren, and his son Greyson.”

  I give him a small, unsure smile with a nod of acknowledgement since my hands are full. Unfortunately, he says absolutely nothing.

  Fucking, great.

  chapter 42

  no excuses

  His stern expression fades away. After giving me another once-over, a small smile tugs on his stern lips. He looks from me to my son, who seems more than eager to meet this brand-new face. Grey usually has good judgment when it comes to people; he can tell a good person from a shitty person from a mile away. So, maybe Ronnie’s dad isn’t so bad after all. Maybe it’s the small smile he’s giving me combined with my son’s reception of him that’s giving me a glimmer of hope. I’ve never really had someone like me right off the bat—so, I definitely didn’t expect that shit from my girl’s dad. I mean, I asked his daughter to marry me without his permission for fuck’s sake. But of course, he doesn’t fucking know that—thank, God.

  “Hello, Trevor,” Bryant finally says, his lips twitching in, what seems to be, a semblance of a smile. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

  He seems to emphasize “finally,” but I try not to give it too much thought. I know I should’ve come to him sooner but planning two steps ahead has never seemed to be my forte. I don’t think shit through until it’s too late to change anything; so, me not going about things the “conventional way” isn’t exactly shocking. “It’s good to meet you, too,” I respond, closing the distance between us to shake his hand. I give him a smile—hoping to God I don’t look too fucking skittish—and look him straight in the eyes as I give his hand two firm pumps before pulling away. I don’t want him to get the misconception that I’m going to be a giant pussy about meeting him today.

  I take a step back and prop Grey up in my arms so he’s resting against my shoulder. He looks at Bryant with wide, inquisitive eyes, then looks back to me to see how I feel about this stranger. “This is my son, Greyson,” I introduce Grey while encouraging him to turn his attention to Ronnie’s dad.

  My son gives Bryant a shy smile before reaching out to grab ahold of his finger. He gives it a little shake on his own before he attempts to stuff said finger into his mouth. Ronnie’s dad chuckles at this and pulls his finger out of the baby’s grasp before tousling his hair.

  “Cute kid,” he comments in a gruff voice. “How old is the boy?”

  “He’ll be one in January.”

  “They sure do grow up fast. It feels like it was just yesterday when Veronica and Eden were that little. They were constantly getting into trouble, those two,” he muses with a thoughtful smile and a shake of his head.

  “Well, Ronnie’s definitely a good girl now.” Fuck. What an awkward fucking thing for me to say. She may call you “father,” sir, but she calls me “daddy.” What am I going to say next? I’ll spank his daughter if she’s a “bad” girl. Her dad gives me a weird look—well, that’s an understatement. His look screams: “What the fuck is this man doing with my daughter that has him fucking blushing like that!” I give him an awkward smile before quickly changing the subject. “Do you want to hold Grey? He loves meeting new people.” Well, that’s a lie, but I’d say anything to get him to stop looking at me like a demented fuck and divert this conversation.

  Bryant lightens up and nods. I breathe a sigh of relief as I hand my son over. Grey’s a little fussy at first, but after a few moments he settles down and becomes comfortable. It’s obvious that despite his rough exterior he loves kids. I wonder if, despite his appearance, he’s just a big fucking softie. Well, I sure as hell hope so. Even if he does like me, I know he’ll still likely ask me a barrage of questions and all of that shit. It’s a natural thing for a father to do, considering the circumstances. I mean, even my own family members would ask me tons of intrusive questions every time they saw me when I was growing up. Would the holidays really be the same if someone didn’t get all up in your business just to make you doubt yourself? Probably not. I hate being grilled by anyone. It just feels like you’re being judged with every answer you give. I hated it when I was a kid and I still fucking hate it as an adult.

  “So, are you guys doing anything special for the boy’s birthday?” Bryant asks as he rocks my son back and forth.

  Happy he’s not asking me any personal questions, I’m quick to respond. “Yeah, Ronnie and I were planning on giving him a really nic
e party. I don’t have many people to invite, but I’m sure it’ll be fun regardless.” I wish I had more friends and family to surround my son with, but there’s only few people I trust around him, and that’s the best I can do. I’ve always been an introvert, and nothing’s changed since I’ve grown-up. I never was, nor will I ever be, “Mr. Popularity.” I’ll never be comfortable with being surrounded by people all of the time.

  Bryant doesn’t give any input on it because he’s too busy playing with my little guy. I look over to Ronnie, who tilts her head toward the kitchen and since her dad seems distracted enough—I follow her. I don’t have enough time to ask her what’s up before she closes the distance between us and crashes her lips to mine. Within a few seconds, she’s completely molded herself against me and her hands are everywhere. Apparently, me getting along with her dad is a real turn-on for her. I return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm until I have to pull away to catch my breath.

  “What was that for?” I ask as I try to regain my composure.

  “I’m just happy to see you two getting along so well,” she explains. “You both are the most important men in my life.”

  This makes me smile. “Did you really have doubts?”

  She shrugs her shoulder before giving me a thoughtful look and shaking her head. “No, I suppose I didn’t. I was sure my dad would like you.”

  I can’t tell how honest she’s being, but I’m happy she’s happy. I’m thrilled she believes he likes me because I can’t fucking tell with the man. It’s not like we really interacted much, so I guess I haven’t given him a reason to hate me so far. However, I know my appearance can be a bit off-putting for some people. Not every father wants his little girl with someone that looks like me. It seems that Bryant is able to look past this aspect, though. Hopefully, he’ll be just as cool when it comes to looking past everything else. My past is pretty fucking rough, and he seems to be pretty straight-edged from what I can tell. I know he’s not going to like the fact I was into drugs and alcohol; even though I’m currently trying to work on that part of myself by going to therapy and A.A. meetings. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind it if he never found out about my past. However, I know I really need to be truthful and forthcoming with everyone in my life for my recovery to be a success. Today, I’m just going to focus on getting to know him and having a good time with our families. Hopefully, this will be the start of something positive and new.

  “Can you hang out with my dad while I finish getting ready?”

  I look at the towel wrapped around her head and pray that it won’t take her too long. I know I fared well when we were all together, but I wonder how he’ll act once she’s no longer in the room. Although, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Hide in the bathroom with her like a coward? It’ll be fine, Trevor. Stop fucking stressing.

  “Yeah, that’s fine. I got this under control.”

  She gives me one last kiss before bolting in the direction of her bathroom. I return to the living room—which has now been turned into an impromptu dining room—and find Bryant sitting at the table still holding Grey. I hear my son giggling, so I know that everything’s all right. I’m happy, if not surprised, my son’s taken to his future granddad so quickly. Babies are good at sensing good people—from what I’m told—so, maybe this is a good sign.

  “I hope he wasn’t too fussy while I was gone,” I say conversationally as I join them at the dining room table.

  Bryant looks up at me for a moment then directs his gaze back to the baby in his arms. “He’s great. Veronica talks about him all of the time, so I feel like I know the little guy already.”

  “So, you two talk on the phone a lot then?”

  “A fair amount. I’m busy most of the time, but I call Veronica to catch-up whenever we’re both free. She hadn’t told me about the engagement, though. I didn’t find out about it until I arrived this morning.”

  Fuck. So, he does fucking know. I hope he isn’t upset about all this. I know how much father’s like to be a part of this type of shit. It’s traditional for the guy to ask for the girl’s hand in marriage—but it wasn’t like it was really a possibility at the time. Besides, it’s the twenty-first century. I don’t believe women need their fathers to decide who they can or cannot marry. Everything had been so spontaneous in our relationship and it all happened so fast. I’d been so fucking nervous to ask her in general. I hadn’t even thought about talking to her dad first. I mean, I didn’t even know anything about the man, so it’d be weird for me to randomly ask for his number and call him. “Sir, we’ve never met, but I’m in love with your daughter. We’ve been together for a little bit and I’ve never really asked about meeting you. However, now I kind of need you. I’m going to ask her to marry me. I’m probably not the ideal choice you’d pick for her because I’m a single dad, but I think I’d be really good for her.” I would’ve been a rambling fucking mess if I called him. I feel sick just thinking about it.

  “Sorry about that, sir.” I feel like I need to be formal all of a sudden. I mean, formality couldn’t hurt. “It was a spur of the moment thing. I just love her so much… I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I see that,” he responds, giving me another once-over.

  “We haven’t been dating long,” I go on to explain, “but I fell in love with her right away. I just want you to know how much I respect your daughter. I’ll cherish her for the rest of our lives, I promise.”

  Maybe I’m overdoing it, but fuck, I really want him to like me. I want him to approve of our relationship and our engagement, as well. What should I do now? Should I ask him for her hand? I don’t know; it all feels so fucking cheesy to me. I’m not used to expressing my feelings to strangers; I barely talk about them period. Dr. Russell has to pry shit out of me like he was pulling teeth. It took several sessions before I felt comfortable enough to open up a little and speak about anything sensitive.

  “Well, that’s comforting to hear,” he responds in a rough, protective voice.

  His tone makes me smile a little. It seems as though he doesn’t like discussing his feelings either. We may have more in common than I’d imagined. “I know it’s late, but I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” It sounds fucking awkward when I say it, but I manage to spit it out.

  He looks at me for a moment. I mean really taking me in before he finally says, “Trevor, I don’t know you, but I trust my daughter. If Veronica loves you and she said ‘yes,’ then I’ll go along with it. You can have her hand.” He pauses for a moment, then smirks at me before adding, “With that being said, if you ever hurt her don’t think for one minute I’ll hesitate... Well, we’ll just say I know where you live, son.”

  I gulp, because how the fuck can I not after that unspoken threat. I give him a shaky smile. Okay, then. Well, that went better than I’d thought it’d go. “Thanks, sir. I won’t let you down.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  There’s a knock at the door causing Grey to startle and begin to cry from the sound. “Dada!” he wails, reaching for me.

  I stretch across the table, taking him into my arms before patting him on the back to calm him down. His cries begin to quiet as I walk toward the front door. There’s another loud knock before I finally pull the door open to find Eden and her family standing there. Fuck, did Ronnie tell everyone to get here super early? I thought she had to bake.

  “Hey, Trevor!” Eden says as she bounces up to kiss my cheek. “Hey, Greyson,” she says to the grinning, yet, temperamental baby I’m holding. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

  She ventures into the apartment before I can so much as step aside; Quinton gives me an apologetic smile. He looks fucking exhausted, but he’s still managing to hold Harper in one arm and a food container in the other.

  “I’m going to have to make a few trips,” he tells me as I step aside to let him in. “There’s a lot of food in the car.”

  I help him start setting up the food on the dining room table when Ronnie finally comes out. She�
�s absolutely gorgeous with her curly brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She looks incredible, but I’m fucking confused; that hairstyle is usually what she goes with when she doesn’t have much time to style it. She’s been in the bathroom—supposedly doing her hair—for over a half an hour. When I catch her eye, she blushes and looks away, and I immediately know what’s up. My girl was eavesdropping. For some reason this makes me smile. I can just imagine her standing on the other side of the wall listening to me profess my love for her to her father. I’m not going to embarrass her, so I don’t bring it up. Instead, I just smile and wink at her before offering to go out to the car to help Quinton.

  “Harper, do you want to play with Ronnie and the baby while Daddy and Uncle Trevor go get the rest of the food from the car?”

  Harper’s face lights up as she looks at Grey, who’s staring back at her with wide eyes and a small smile.

  “Yeah, daddy! Me play with baby!”

  I hand Grey off to Ronnie at the same time Quinton sets his daughter on the floor.

  “You can play with him while I finish baking your favorite pie,” Ronnie tells Harper and then ushers them to Grey’s room.

  Always feeling nervous about leaving the baby alone I look toward Ronnie’s dad and ask, “Can you keep an eye on them, please?”

  Bryant gives me a small, albeit warm, smile and nods. I follow Quinton out to his car. It turns out that Eden made enough food to feed a small army. I can’t complain, though—it all looks fucking delicious. It’s definitely 180 degrees from the Thanksgiving dinners I remember as a kid. Evelyn fucking hated cooking. So, when Thanksgiving rolled around she never made anything. Instead, she’d order food from a restaurant and had dinner catered. I never complained, but it always felt so impersonal. Those days make me think of my brother. Because he was mom’s favorite growing up—which I now understand why—the meals always centered around him. He would always be the one to carry on the conversation at the table. Evelyn would sit back with a huge smile on her face, hanging on his every word. Dad never really minded this. Honestly, neither did I because it meant I didn’t have to contribute anything to the conversation.