by Kim Loraine
He chuckled and shook his head. “Do I look that bad?”
“You don’t look good.”
He dragged a hand over his jaw. “There’s just a lot of shit going on and I needed a reset.”
The older woman took his hand and squeezed. “All right. Let me know if you need to talk. I’m not doing anything . . . except for baking a wedding cake, decorating seventy-five cupcakes, and, you know, keeping this place open.”
A laugh rolled through him. He needed this. He lifted his mug to his lips and took a sip before offering her a cheers. Thoughts of his visit with his mom earlier today, of her face when she’d told him to get away from her, the undiluted fear in her eyes. She’d had no idea who he was and wouldn’t stop asking for Dex. He reminded her over and over that he was Carson, her other son, but she’d shaken her head and said she only had one. She screamed for help when he’d tried to hug her. That’s when the staff at her memory care facility suggested he should come back on a better day. One where she was more lucid. But those days were few and far between.
He sat there in the cozy café letting his bread pudding get cold as he stared out the window at the few people who walked by. A tall, lanky kid who looked like he should be in high school walked through the door, backpack slung over one shoulder. The kid shifted from foot to foot as he assessed the pastry case. He pulled a few crumpled dollar bills from his pocket before shoving them back inside and sighing.
Sully’s heart went out to the boy. He remembered being in that same situation. He raised his hand and caught Tilda’s eye, then motioned for her to come over. She sized up the teenager before walking around the counter to Sully’s table.
“What’s up?” she asked.
He handed her a twenty dollar bill and jutted his chin at the boy. “Whatever he wants is on me. Tell him it’s a pay it forward thing.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You know him?”
He shrugged before shaking his head. “I’ve been there. If he’s hungry, he should eat.”
Tilda nodded once and offered him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You’re a good man.”
Cheeks heating at the compliment, he averted his gaze and finally picked up a fork to dig into his breakfast. The kid would eat, Tilda would sell some stuff, and everyone would go home happy.
He couldn’t help but notice how the boy still seemed nervous, still shifted in his place even as he ordered. And then, the softly murmured conversation the kid had with Tilda made it clear Sully’s cover was blown. Tilda’s eyes widened and she nodded before writing down something on a piece of paper and handing it to him, then she looked at Sully. Straight at him. A sense of foreboding washed over him. What the hell was this about?
His heart stopped when the boy turned around and Sully saw his brother Dex’s features staring back at him.
Holy shit.
“Hey, kid,” he called, but the boy dashed away with an anxious glance over his shoulder.
Sully nearly tipped the table as he stood to go after him, spilling his drink all over the damn place. “Fuck,” he muttered, righting the mug and grabbing for napkins to mop up the mess.
By the time he looked back out the window, the kid was gone. He glanced at Tilda, who was still as a statue behind the counter, her face a mask of shock.
“Tilda? Shit, what’s wrong?”
“I . . . Did you hear any of our conversation?”
A frown furrowed his brow. “What’s going on?” Dread curled in the pit of his stomach.
“That kid had a picture. He said he’s looking for his mom.”
“No,” he breathed, already anticipating where this was going.
“Sully, the picture was of Sloan.”
All the air left his lungs in a rush. In one moment, everything had changed.
~ ~ ~
Sloan tossed another bag of ruined supplies into the dumpster at the side of the school and wanted to cry. So much of her supplies had been ruined. There were a few other staff members working on their own classrooms, but the feeling around the school was one of overwhelming despair. The clean-up seemed impossible. She’d been at it for hours with no sign of Carson, but she knew how important it was for him to spend time with his mom. She couldn’t begrudge him that. Her memories of his mom were ones of a kind and supportive woman, someone who loved Carson deeply and wanted nothing but happiness for him.
Sloan sent up a silent prayer that today had been a good visit for Carson. They’d see each other tonight, and Sloan couldn’t wait for time with him. The idea of sharing her friendships and social life with him made her heart swell with pride. Carson Sullivan was a man to be proud of. He was brave and loyal, dedicated and, most of all, her hero. He always had been.
After wiping off her hands, she grabbed her purse and headed for her car. She pulled out her phone as she opened the car door, she sent a text to the man who owned her heart. She wanted to at least check in on him before tonight.
Thinking of you. Hope your visit with Mom is going okay. I’ll meet you at Pete’s tonight.
He didn’t respond, but she was sure he’d read it and get back to her later. All that mattered was that he knew she’d been thinking about him. That was the best thing she could do for him right now.
Hours later, she stood outside Pete’s watching and waiting for Carson to arrive. She’d dressed up for him, in a shorter than normal skirt, some high boots, and a low-cut top. He’d need something to distract him from his visit today, just like he needed every time he went. But as the minutes passed and he didn’t show, she got cold and went inside. He’d find her. Except, he didn’t.
“Would you put your phone down and enjoy the night?” Meg asked, only a hint of annoyance coloring her tone. “He’ll be here.”
After she tossed her phone in her bag, Sloan huffed and pasted a smile on her face. Becks and his new girlfriend were on the small stage, singing “A Whole New World,” from Disney’s Aladdin. Except the way they were looking at each other gave the lyrics completely different perspective.
“I’d let him take me on a magic carpet ride any time,” Meg muttered before downing her drink.
Sloan burst out laughing. “Meg!”
Her friend giggled, all innocence. “What?”
A flash of navy blue caught Sloan’s eye and her heartbeat sped as she zeroed in on the familiar Station 31 uniform T-shirt. Donovan Miller grinned and waved as he approached with Valerie. “Sorry we’re late,” he offered. “Val almost canceled, but I convinced her it’s okay to take a night off once in a while.”
Valerie’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s really hard to leave Connor. He’s still so little.”
“Sweetheart, it’s important for us to have time together. You don’t have to feel guilty for leaving him with your mom. Besides, she was practically begging us to get out so she could start spoiling him.”
“You’re right. I know, but . . . I miss him.”
Donovan planted a kiss on her temple and hugged her to him. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink and we can pick a song or two for Sully to sing.” He looked around and frowned. “Where is he? I figured he’d be two Garth Brooks songs deep by now.”
“How’d you know he said he’d be here? I only asked him this morning.” Sloan’s chest lightened at the thought that Carson might have told his friend about tonight.
“Aren’t you guys like a package deal now? I mean, it seems like you two are moving forward. He’s in l—” Donovan stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening before he swallowed hard. What had he been about to say?
“Okay, Hot shot. Look at that, not even one drink in and you’re sticking your foot in it.” Valerie threaded their fingers together and pulled him away and toward the bar.
Sloan watched them go with a mixture of anxiety and excitement in her chest. Had Carson been talking about h
er with Donovan? Part of her hoped so because that meant this was bigger than the beginning of something.
She pulled her phone from her purse and sighed when there was still no message from Carson. Irrationally angry at the device, she shoved it back in place and pulled her bag over her shoulder.
“I’ve got to go,” she said to Meg.
“What? No. You can’t. I signed us up to sing ‘Sweet Transvestite.’”
“I’m sorry. I need to find Carson. I’m worried about him.”
Meg’s big brown eyes turned sad. “Okay. I get it. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Sloan tossed a wave at Becks before heading for the door. She’d find Carson and ensure he was okay. If something had happened with his mom, he’d be in need of her love. She was ready to give it all to him.
Chapter 17
Sully’s mind flew from thought to thought while he rode aimlessly down the highway. Maybe he’d been wrong. That boy wasn’t his kid. Her dad said she’d had an abortion. Surely Sloan would’ve told him if she’d kept the baby. Their baby. But the question hung in the air, a carrot on a stick, begging him to chase and find the answer. Had she kept his son from him all this time? He had to know.
She’d be at Pete’s by now, laughing and drinking, waiting on him. But there was no way in hell he could face her friends or Donovan and Valerie with this kind of storm raging in his head. He took the next exit for Golden Beach and made his way to the only place they could have this conversation.
Her driveway was empty, but she’d be home sooner rather than later. After he used the key she’d had made for him, he turned on the lights and helped himself to a beer from the refrigerator. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he popped the cap off the bottle and brought it to his lips.
Where are you?
Her text cloaked him in guilt. He should be there for her. He’d promised to come. Instead he left her to fend for herself.
What could he say to her? He was at her house, drinking alone.
I’m sorry. I had a weird fucking day. Needed to clear my head. I’m at your house now.
She replied almost immediately.
Be there in ten minutes.
A heavy breath rolled free from his chest at the thought of seeing her. He settled in, stretched out on the couch, and flipped through the channels, trying to distract himself from his experience at Tilda’s. He couldn’t. After five minutes of restless waiting, he stood and began to pace.
The house was neat and tidy, just like her, but instead of being decorated with the mementos of her grandfather’s life, Sloan had begun making it hers. Little touches everywhere, a throw pillow on the couch, pictures on the walls, things he hadn’t seen before.
A click caught his attention and the front door swung open. Sloan walked inside, concern etched on her gorgeous face. “Hey, you okay?” she asked.
Nervous, he a hand over his jaw and tried to figure out what to say. How could he broach this subject with her? Especially if he was wrong. “I think . . .” He lost his train of thought as a framed photo on the shelf behind her caught his eye. Heart racing, he gently pushed her aside and strode toward the black frame. His fingers traced the familiar shape of Sloan, but it was the small bundle with a blue hat on his head that had him trembling. “What is this?” He held the picture out to her. “You said you didn’t have kids.”
He knew before she even opened her mouth. This was his son. This was the boy he’d seen at Tilda’s. A child he never got to know. A little boy who’d grown up thinking Sully didn’t exist—didn’t want him.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
He tried to speak but his voice wouldn’t work. His throat was tight and his chest hurt, but he brought his gaze to Sloan’s. He had to ask. To make sure he was right. “Where is he? Why didn’t you bring him with you?”
Eyes wide, she took the picture and placed it back in its spot on the shelf. “Carson, I placed him for adoption. You know that.”
“No. No, I fucking do not know that. You had an abortion. You got rid of our baby. You left me.”
“That’s what you think? Why? What gave you that idea?”
His knees wobbled as he tried to make sense of this. He had to sit on the couch or risk falling. As he rested his elbows on his thighs and closed his eyes, he replayed the conversation with her father.
“Your dad. I was outside of Cups. I was going to ask you to marry me, but he said you’d just come from the doctor . . . taken care of it. That you couldn’t handle talking to me about your decision. That it was for the best because we’d never make it.” He fought the emotion in his voice. “You had more ahead of you than a middle-class life.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I should have known. He was always trying to control my life.” The couch dipped as she settled beside him and the anger turned to sadness. “I . . . I didn’t know that’s what you thought.”
“Is that what you thought about me? I wasn’t enough to take a chance on?”
Her hand slid across his hunched shoulders, making him lean into the contact. “I never thought that . . . I still don’t.”
“Then why would you leave?”
He knew why. But he needed her to say it. “You told me you didn’t want me . . . or the baby. You never came for us.”
Hands clasped in front of him, he let her words sink in. They could have had a life together. “I didn’t think there was a baby. How could you possibly think I wouldn’t want you?”
“You said it. I ruined our lives by getting pregnant.”
Anxiety blossomed in his chest. He should’ve known her father would do something like that. Underhanded and vicious, the man would do anything to get what he wanted. But, they weren’t going to get anywhere if they started arguing. He sat up and turned to her, forcing himself to look into her eyes. The tears swimming in their depths sent ragged splinters of loss through him.
“Sloan. It wasn’t just you who got pregnant. We did that together. We made that baby together. There’s no way it ruined anything. If I’d known you hadn’t gotten an abortion. If you’d told me . . . Fuck, I would never have let you go.”
“I thought about going through with it. I seriously considered it. My mom took me to the clinic, she waited in the car, but I couldn’t do it. My parents thought it was taken care of until I started showing. I tried to run away, to come back, but my mom convinced me to talk to you first. And then, when I tried to tell you, I couldn’t find you. I called your house and talked to your mom. I told her everything. She said you’d moved on and joined the Marines like Dex. She promised me she’d tell you about the baby, but you never came for us.”
That was bullshit. His mom would’ve told him he had a kid. She’d never let his child grow up without him. Never. But Sloan wouldn’t lie about this. And his mom’s illness had been affecting her long before anyone noticed. He stared at Sloan, unable to come to terms with everything he’d learned. A tear spilled down her cheek, but he cupped her face in his palm and brushed the wetness away.
“Why didn’t you keep him?”
She closed her eyes and tears trailed across her face. “I couldn’t. My dad threatened to kick me out without any support if I didn’t give him up. I’m not proud of that. But I was so young and I didn’t know what else to do. How could I support a baby on my own?”
“Do you know anything about him? Our son?”
Her chin trembled. “His name is Logan. He’s in a wonderful home. Loved. That’s all I know.”
Desperation made his stomach churn. How could he be in a wonderful home if that home wasn’t with them? “When’s his birthday? Where do they live?”
“Carson—”
“No. You can’t tell me I have a son and then not tell me anything else. That’s not how this works.”
“He was born on March twentie
th.”
Despite himself, a small smile turned up his lips. “My birthday?”
The sadness in her eyes was like a kick in the gut. “I don’t know anything else.”
He couldn’t believe that, there had to be a way to find out more. “You know his name. Can’t you find him?”
“He’s not ours. Not anymore.”
“The fuck he isn’t.”
She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t do this. Not now. It’s been nearly fifteen years since he was born. Since I had to hand him over . . . kiss his little face . . . take in his features for the last time as someone else got to be his mother. I made that choice because we weren’t ready. I can’t take it back now. He is theirs. Not ours.”
“He will always be ours. And you didn’t give me a choice.”
Her tears ran freely now, eyes red as she worked to control her reaction, but he saw it. He saw the walls come up, and the defensive anger ignite. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you wanted him. I did what I thought was best . . . for him.”
He couldn’t take it. The thought of his child being with some other family—thinking he hadn’t wanted him. “I wanted him. I wanted you. I never got the chance to tell you, but I promise I wanted you. I still do.”
Sloan remained silent, and he couldn’t take the rejection in her eyes.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered through the aching in his chest. Hands balled into fists, he turned away from her even though everything inside him screamed to close the distance and hold her to him. “By the way, the son who isn’t ours anymore is here, and he’s looking for you.”
She didn’t say anything as he walked out her door and all he could think about was the life they could have had. But now all they shared was the ghost of a path not taken.
~ ~ ~
Sloan stifled a sob as Carson’s words tore through her. Their son was here. Looking for her. How? Her chest ached as though something was wrenching it open. Logan was only fourteen. How had he found her?