Take It Down A Notch

by Weston Parker

  And yet, there he was. He had spent all of yesterday with Lawson and had seemed genuinely happy to meet us for dinner so I could get to know him better.

  The man was an enigma, all right. A puzzle that wasn’t mine to solve to any extent, other than to sniff out whether he was going to hurt my boy or whether he was in the program for the right reasons.

  He had to be getting something out of it. I just didn’t know what it could possibly be. Which was why I planned on asking. This was way too important for me to tiptoe around the issues, but I wasn’t really the type to tiptoe anyway.

  Declan looked up from his phone then. He’d been scrolling through it as we’d been walking up to the restaurant, but he slid it into his pocket as soon as he saw us.

  His lips curved in an easy smile, and his hand lifted in an almost lazy wave. Yep. Definitely too effortless.

  “Hey, guys,” he said once we were within earshot, his voice a perfect blend of silk and gravel. The sound of it ignited a spark somewhere below my belly that hadn’t been lit in the longest time. “How are you?”

  “Declan!” Lawson exclaimed and ran up to him. Surprise smacked me in the face and made me forget all about how attractive Declan was when my son stopped just short of hugging him, offering him his hand at the last minute.

  Lawson just didn’t take to people this way. The only people he was ever remotely excited about seeing were me and Tessa, and he’d never sprinted up to either of us before. I also had never seen him shake someone’s hand. I hadn’t even realized we were at that stage yet.

  Declan laughed and shook Lawson’s hand, an expression on his handsome features that was both genuine and strangely proud. “How are you doing, little man? Nice grip. I’m glad you remembered what I said about not letting it hang there like a dead fish.”

  A frown tugged at my features until I realized that he was talking about Lawson’s handshake. The strange pride suddenly made perfect sense. He’d taught Lawson this. In the few hours they’d spent together, he’d identified something that had slipped through the cracks with me, and he had filled it in.

  I had to admit I was mildly impressed. Despite how he looked and the way he came across, maybe I’d judged him a little too quickly.

  “It’s good to see you,” Lawson said, only a hint of his usual shyness evident in the slight tilt of his lips.

  “Yeah, you too.” Declan grinned at him before those eyes landed on mine. “And you, Raeanne.”

  My mouth dried up a little when he said my name, his mouth wrapping around it in a way that made it sound like sex. I cleared my throat, forcing the unexpected dirty thoughts from my mind as I smiled. “Thanks for coming to meet us. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

  “Likewise,” he said as he turned and, in the same movement, gripped the handle of the door and opened it for us. He motioned for us to precede him and yet somehow still managed to be the one to lead us to our table.

  There were no hostesses waiting to seat diners here. People chose their own tables out of the available options, and whoever was the waitress for that section served you when they got around to it.

  Lawson barely waited until we were seated before excitedly turning toward Declan. “I started a new book this morning. It’s on astronomy. Have you read anything on astronomy?”

  Declan’s long fingers rose to his chin. He dragged it along the sharp stubble of his five o’clock shadow and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I have but not for a while. What have you learned so far?”

  Lawson opened up to him in a way that surprised me, though it shouldn’t have at this point. “I’ve only read the first few chapters, but did you know that there are different constellations visible in the Northern and Southern hemispheres?”

  “I did know that, yes. We have the Big Dipper, and they have the Southern Cross, for example.”

  Lawson’s head bounced up and down. “Did you also know that there are people who believe star signs determine your personality?”

  “Unfortunately, I know some of those people.” Declan’s lips curled into a playful grin as he shot Lawson a wink. “My own sister happens to be one of them.”

  Sensing a good opportunity to jump into the conversation and steer it away from stars to something more on point for why we were here, I leaned forward in my seat and met Declan’s eyes. “So you have a sister, huh? Is it only the two of you, or is there another sibling?”

  “There’s another one. An older brother who might not believe in star signs but does have some whacky character traits of his own.” It was a straight answer, but it still felt vague.

  Before I could ask him about it, a waitress approached us. We ordered sodas and a large plate of cheese fries to share as an appetizer. Then she was gone again.

  Determined to get more answers out of Declan, I returned my gaze to his. “Okay, so two siblings. What about your parents? Are they still around?”

  “Yes.” His jaw tensed, but it was gone so soon that I thought he might just have been swallowing or something. “Both of them are alive and well. They live nearby. We have regular family dinners, and even though I’m the middle child, I didn’t get lucky by having them be less interested in my life than they are in those of my siblings.”

  I laughed, shaking my head at myself as the waitress delivered our sodas and rushed off again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was interrogating you.”

  A deep, melodic chuckle rumbled in his chest. The sound of it made my heart flip, and a familiar—yet long thought to be dead—ache built between my legs. I always had been a sucker for a nice smile and a good laugh. Declan being hotter than Hades didn’t help matters either.

  “No problem. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? For you to get to know me? I don’t mind answering your questions. Go ahead. Do your worst. I can handle it, but I’d like to know some things about you too.”

  “Of course.” There were very few things in my life I wasn’t willing to discuss. There wasn’t that much to know about me really. The only thing that was off limits with this virtual stranger was Lawson’s paternity. I didn’t know what Lawson had told him about his father, but it was going to take me some time to build up to that with him.

  “I’m an only child. I grew up only a few hours away from here, but I haven’t been back to my hometown since I was sixteen. My parents aren’t around anymore, but I never had that great of a relationship with them anyway.”

  “Your turn to ask a question,” he said, spreading his arms out and resting them on the back of the booth. I wondered if he was as open as his posture would suggest.

  There was only one way to find out, I guessed. “What do you do for work?”

  “I’m taking some time off at the moment to figure out my next move.”

  I narrowed my eyes, mind racing with what that might mean for Lawson. “Are you only in the program because you’re bored with all the free time on your hands?”

  “It was my turn to ask a question, but I’ll let you have that one as a freebie. No, I’m not in the program because I’m bored.”

  “Why are you doing the Big Brother program then? Please don’t take offense, but you don’t seem like the type I was expecting to be signed up for it.”

  “Oh yeah?” He smirked, and his eyes flashed with something that looked like a mix between hunger and amusement, but he schooled his expression too fast to figure out what it might have meant. “I was about to ask you why I wasn’t the type you were expecting or what the type was that you were expecting, but that would have either been flirting or a diversion.”

  The stark honesty of his answer nearly knocked the damn breath out of me, but I tried not to show my surprise. “Why would you use a diversion?”

  “I didn’t.” He grinned, looking like he was resisting the urge to wink at me. “I admitted that if I had gone with my first instinct of how to answer that question, I might have been using one. But I didn’t.”

  “Okay, but you still haven’t answered my qu
estion.”

  He gave his wide shoulders a shrug, his eyes boring into mine. “I’ve recently realized that despite the fact that I don’t have the best relationship with my father these days, I’m lucky to have had him growing up. The program does great things for kids who aren’t as lucky as I was, and it’s something I like doing for them.”

  “For the kids?” I clarified.

  He nodded once. “Sure. There are some good kids, like Lawson here.”

  My son beamed at having been brought back into the conversation and quickly steered it back to that book he had started reading. Throughout dinner, I got some chances to talk more to Declan. Mostly though, Lawson had his attention.

  By the time our check came and I waved off Declan’s attempt to pay, I was feeling a lot better about him. Lawson seemed to have formed a connection with him, but it didn’t feel like one I had to be worried about.

  If the guy was willing to give up his time to do something nice for some kids just because he realized how lucky he was to have his dad in his life, obviously there was a good heart buried beneath all that yummy packaging. I was done questioning him and doubting his motives. He’d done nothing to deserve it and had answered me dutifully all night.

  As I slapped my debit card into the billfold, Declan tried once more to put down some money. I shut him down with a look. “No, this is my treat. It’s the least that I can do. Thank you for coming and thank you for putting up with all my questions.”

  “No problem.” He smiled, and it seemed genuine. “Thank you for dinner. It’ll be my treat next time.”

  “Next time?”

  “I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you two. I’m sure of it. So yes, next time.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Next time, we’ll see about whose treat it is.”

  He laughed, a deep sound that I felt in my tummy. I had to forcefully remind myself of who this man was and what his role in our lives was to stop from sighing and giggling like an idiot.

  “Okay, Raeanne. You’re on. We’ll see next time.”

  Chapter 11

  Declan

  “Are you ready to have your ass handed to you?” Finley smirked as he threw his leg over his four-wheeler, pulling back on the throttle to rev the engine.

  I rolled my eyes at his theatrics, mounting my own quad and racing away without answering his question. Red dust billowed out behind me, wind whipping through my hair and stinging my eyes as I sped along the familiar path on his grandparents’ land.

  It didn’t take long before I heard him behind me, but I twisted my wrist to get more speed and kept going. Finley and I came out here to blow off steam whenever we could, and the faded old four-wheelers were a firm favorite for doing that.

  I’d tried to convince him to let me buy a couple of new bikes to keep here, but he’d refused. These were the same ones he’d grown up with and the ones we’d ride until they died apparently.

  The air was frigid, but it did a damn good job of clearing my head. It had been muddled since my dinner with Raeanne and Lawson, but I finally felt like I was coming back to myself.

  I hadn’t lied to her. I just omitted some stuff from my answers. Important stuff, sure, but none of what I’d said was a flat-out lie. Even if it had been, I didn’t know why I’d been feeling guilt twisting around at my insides because of it.

  It wasn’t like me to feel that way about anything, but the vibration of the powerful engine beneath me, combined with the fresh air and the familiar landscape of dull greens and empty trees in winter, was making me feel more like myself. Slowly erasing the unwarranted guilt from my gut.

  I didn’t owe Raeanne or Lawson a thing, and yet I’d gone to dinner and sat patiently during the Carolina inquisition. I’d answered all her questions as honestly as I could and, surprisingly, had found myself enjoying learning more about them. Which also wasn’t like me.

  Thank fuck Finley and I had come out here today. I really needed to get my shit together, and there was no better way to do it than by racing around the farm.

  When I finally pulled up in a clearing overlooking a part of the town in the distance, our usual pit stop, the heaviness that I’d been carrying around all week had been blown away by the wind. I cut my engine and crossed my legs on the seat, grinning as I waited for Finley to arrive.

  He wasn’t far behind me, skidding to a stop with a wild smile and wilder hair. “Fuck yes. I needed that after this week.”

  “So did I,” I agreed, sliding off the seat so I could open the compartment beneath it to extract our waters.

  Finley jumped off his bike and gave me a look that was pure mischief. “Really? Why? What could possibly have happened to you this week that made you need this? I mean, I know I’m one of the lucky ones who has to work for my money instead of sitting around on my ass all day doing nothing, but sitting around can’t be that hard.”

  I flipped him off, grabbing his water with my other hand and tossing it over to him. I knew he was joking. He’d always had a good attitude about his family not being as well off as mine, but he loved to tease me about it mercilessly.

  “It’s not the sitting around that’s hard,” I informed him with my middle finger still raised in his direction. “It’s the actual doing stuff that sucks.”

  “Oh, yes.” He snapped his fingers before running both hands through his hair, trying to tame the windblown red locks. He failed miserably. “You started in the Big Brother program on Monday. How did it go?”

  “It went well eventually,” I said and twisted the cap off my water bottle.

  Finley raised his eyebrows at me while I took a long sip. “Eventually? Now I know there’s a story there. What happened?”

  I shrugged, my eyes sliding away from his to settle on the town far below. “I nearly left. That’s what. I wouldn’t have seen this view again for however long I would have been in jail, and I’d kind of accepted it.”

  He snorted. “Dude, you wouldn’t last ten minutes in jail. I have no idea how long they would have tossed you in there, but I’m glad you decided not to leave the program.”

  I wasn’t even going to argue with him about lasting ten minutes in jail. No one actually wanted to visit the big house. It wasn’t like it was a point of pride to argue that I would survive because I truly hoped I’d never find out if I was right or not.

  “Yeah, so am I.” A lot of stuff had been placed into perspective for me this week. No idea why meeting a seven-year-old and his mother would have inspired the kind of reflection and introspection I’d been doing for the last few days, but whatever.

  It had, and ultimately, I had realized that although I still didn’t think I was a role model, I was glad not to be in jail. I was even willing to play along with the program for the next few months to make sure I didn’t go there.

  “What changed your mind?” Finley asked, interrupting yet another rare moment of self-reflection for me.

  “A kid I met when I was about to leave,” I said honestly. “He was just sitting there crying, you know? I asked him if he wasn’t ashamed to be sitting there bawling his fucking eyes out where everyone could see him. We got to talking, and after that, I got myself assigned to be his Big Brother.”

  His blue eyes widened. “You willingly talked to a crying kid?”

  “I did.” I shrugged, but I didn’t feel as nonchalant about it as the movement might have suggested. “There was something so sad about the whole situation that I couldn’t stop myself from talking to him, and when I did, I realized that I kind of liked the little dude.”

  “How old is he?” Finley asked.

  “Seven.”

  He got a faraway look in his eyes, then burst out laughing. “Sorry, I was trying to picture you with a seven-year-old, but I can’t. You really liked him?”

  “Yeah, he’s smart for a kid. I don’t know what they’re supposed to be like at that age, but Lawson seems really intelligent. He’s well read and he has insight.”

  “Insight, huh?” Finley’s expression became
more serious. “If he’s so insightful, you have to be careful with him.”

  “I know.” A deep sigh parted my lips, and I ran a hand through my hair. “He’s a good kid though, man. If I’m stuck in the program for three months, I’d rather be paired up with a kid who’s smart and who I have some common ground with.”

  “You have common ground with a seven-year-old? They don’t drink, fuck, or network. What common ground could you possibly have with him?”

  I pressed my palm to my heart, feigning injury. “There’s more to me than that, you know?”

  “Of course, there is.” He laughed. “You have a pretty decent sense of humor sometimes. Is that what you have in common with him?”

  “No, he likes to read. I like to read.”

  Finley tapped the side of his lips with his finger. “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten there was a bookworm buried in there somewhere.”

  “I prefer ‘intelligent being who gleans his knowledge from the written word’ to bookworm, but okay.” I chugged the rest of my water and crushed the empty bottle before placing it in the bag I’d brought along for trash. “Anyway, the kid devours pretty much anything he can get his hands on. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “So that’s it. You like that the kid reads, and therefore, you’ve made peace with your punishment.” His brows lifted, disbelief clouding his eyes. “I don’t buy it.”

  “It wasn’t just that.” It was difficult to put my finger on what else it had been, though. “There was something about him. When I started talking to him, he reminded me of myself at that age. Only, he doesn’t know his father. Kid didn’t even know how to fist bump.”

  “Ah, yes, the epitome of masculinity that gets passed down through the generations from father to son: the art of the fist bump,” he teased.

  “Laugh if you want, but we bonded over it.”

  Finley didn’t say anything for a few long seconds. “I guess I can see how that would happen. You stayed with only the one kid all day?”