by Piper Rayne
I sit in the parking lot, watching her cross the lot and straight into the arms of the guy. He rushes her over to the bench and my heart breaks for my sister, who just couldn’t or didn’t love her son enough. I know she loves him in her own way, but not enough to put him first.
Backing up, I take one last look at the girl I looked up to most of my life, hoping it’s not the last time I’ll see her. Then I speed off down the street to pick up what will soon be my son on paper. He’s always been my son in my heart.
16
Ava
Toby’s quiet at the table, doing his homework. The shop hasn’t been extremely busy so far today, so I bring him over another cookie and a juice I had in the back.
“Thanks, Miss Ava.” He peeks up at me and I sit down next to him.
“Do you need any help?” I look at the homework wondering when third-grade math included division.
“No.” He pencils in the right answer and I keep focused over his shoulder seeing how intelligent he is.
I swear I was learning how to tie my shoe at his age.
“So, Toby, has it always just been you and your dad?”
Stop it, Ava. Don’t pry.
“We lived with my grandparents for awhile. Until Dad could build the house.” He pushes over his sheet of math toward me. “Can you check it for me?”
“Um, sure.”
As I channel my grade school math and look over his sheet, he eats his cookie and drinks his juice.
“When is my dad coming to get me?”
My eyes shift off the sheet to the door. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” I look over his last few answers and slide the sheet back over. “This looks good.”
He tucks it into his folder and places it in his backpack.
Our conversation stalls and I resist the urge to pry about his and his dad’s backstory. That’s for Dane to share with me whenever he wants. Truth is, I’m not supposed to care. Regardless of what Charlie thinks, monogamous friends-with-benefits has been done before. I’m sure it has. Right?
“Want to help me in the back?” I nod to the kitchen.
His eyes light up. “Yeah.”
He stands up, pushes in his chair, and follows me into the kitchen.
“I was thinking about doing some cupcakes with different color batter swirled together like a zebra, or rainbow? What colors do you think I should use?”
He peruses the colors as I pull the dyes out of my container. “Could we do my team colors?”
I rack my memory for what colors his uniforms were.
“Black and orange. We’re the Giants.”
“Like Halloween?” I ask.
He frowns. “Like the Giants.”
“Okay, the Giants.” My voice raises an octave to show how excited I am. “First we need to make the batter.”
“Can I crack the eggs? My dad never really lets me. Says it’s messy.”
I look over to him from pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “I’m surprised your dad cares about you making a mess.”
After being at their house the other night, it took everything in me not to grab Lysol and a sponge.
Toby doesn’t respond to my question, and I find it funny he’s so shy and quiet right now. In camp, he was the center of attention, telling jokes and he never stopped moving.
“You can do the eggs and all the measurements here.” I pat the surface of my work table. “Any mess is easy to clean up on this table.”
I take a last look at the spotless stainless-steel table I just cleaned for the night before grabbing Toby. I’ve realized people in Climax Cove don’t leave their houses after six at night and if they do, they’re going over to Happy Daze, not to grab a cupcake, so I’ve been closing the shop earlier these days.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve fished egg shells out of the batter, cleaned up spilled flour, spilled oil, but regardless, the batter is ready.
“Now comes the fun part,” I say, grabbing the plastic gloves before we touch the dye. “Here, put these on.”
His small hands swim in the gloves, and he stares at them, bending his fingers and straightening them.
“Take this.” I hand him the orange dye. “Squeeze in a few drops.”
He squeezes the container so hard, a puddle of orange accumulates on top of the batter. “Too much?” he asks, contorting his lips into an uh oh expression.
“It will just make it that much more orange.”
He smiles. We do the same with black and I let him judge the amount. This time he drips in much less, grabs the spatula, and stirs until the batter resembles midnight.
“Now. Layers or camouflage?”
“Camouflage.” His lips spread into a smile.
“Then you scoop and I scoop. We’ll fill up the cake pans and get them in the oven.”
We do just that, five minutes go by and the cake pans are in the oven. While I clean up the mess, Toby helps by wiping down the table and handing me the items to wash.
“Miss Ava?” he asks, sitting down on a stool behind me.
I glance over my shoulder to let him know I’m listening.
“Do you not like my dad?”
The dish slips from my fingers and plops down into the sudsy water.
“I like him just fine.”
“This summer, you yelled at him.”
“Well, I was mad because I thought your dad acted more like your big brother than a parent.” I continue scrubbing the dishes, rinsing them and putting them on the dry rack.
“He’s more fun than my friend’s dads, that’s for sure.”
Done with the dishes, I dry my hands on a towel and turn to face him, leaning against the counter.
“I’m sure he is.”
He smiles that magical little boy one that shows how much he loves the person.
“He builds forts, takes me on hikes, bike rides, we camped out on the beach and had a bonfire. My other friend’s dads just sit in front of the television.”
Dane really is more of a hands-on dad than I had originally thought. Maybe because I concentrated on his dates and late-night activities, but the truth is, Dane’s only fault is wanting to have a personal life while he’s raising his son. Is that really all that bad? Don’t parents deserve a life of their own, outside of their children as long as there’s a balance?
“That all sounds like fun,” I say.
“He’s just always loved me.” Toby looks up from entwined hands, and a light bulb turns on in my head. He’s trying to persuade me into thinking his dad isn’t a bad guy.
“How could he not?” I sit down next to Toby, really wanting to give him a big hug, but he jumps off the stool instead.
“What do we do now?” he quickly changes the topic and I want to reassure him that he’s an amazing boy who deserves to be loved and cared for. He’s not mine though and I can’t overstep.
“We could get started on the frosting?” I offer and his eyes widen, his head nodding. “Okay then.”
A half hour later, the cakes are cooling and the frosting is ready to cover when the door chime rings.
In walks Dane, his shoulders not nearly as strong looking as they usually are.
He beelines to Toby, wrapping his arms around him.
Toby squirms and gets free of his dad’s hold. “What are you doing?” he asks, and Dane grabs him again.
“I just missed you.”
“You saw me this morning.” He stares blankly at his dad. His gaze shifts to me and then back to his dad. “We’re making a cake.”
Dane looks at the table. “Giants. Nice!”
“Yeah, and we’re waiting for it to cool to frost it.”
“Enough time for us to have a chat. Go grab your bag, I need to talk to Miss Ava.” He pats him on the back.
“Chat? I swear I didn’t do anything today.” Toby starts pleading his case and I cover my mouth to keep from laughing.
“Guilty conscience?” Dane asks, eyeing me over his son’s head with a smirk.
“What else w
ould we talk about?”
“Just go grab your bag.” Dane lightly pushes him to get moving and Toby’s head falls forward as he walks by me.
“Can I still frost the cake?” he asks me.
My gaze veers to Dane who nods. “Yep. As soon as you and your dad have a talk.”
The corners of his lips turn up, and his steps move a little faster.
Once he’s out of the kitchen area, Dane approaches me, caging me against the counter.
“He could come back in,” I whisper.
“Stay out there, Toby, I’ll be right out.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“Better?” he whispers back.
My face goes slack. Even if my body is bursting like balloons the night of the county fair, I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much my body craves his touch.
“We still have the issue of the other woman who got into your car to discuss.” My voice drips with false sweetness.
“I promise, you’re going to get your questions answered, but I have to talk to Toby first. We’ll be fifteen minutes probably. You’ll be here?” He steps closer and my nipples peak to attention at his nearness. They’re practically calling out for him to touch them.
“I will and don’t make me regret it.” I narrow my eyes, shooting him a warning glare.
He chuckles, his lips hovering over mine. “You kind of scare me.”
“Good.” I attempt to make my voice not sound weak and wanting.
“It makes me hot though. Has me thinking of you punishing me.” A smirk crosses his lips as he breaks the small distance to press his lips to mine.
His mouth meets mine, but he uses no tongue, and he’s separated from me before I can savor his taste.
“To be continued.” The heat from his body leaves and a chill envelopes my body. “We’ll be right back.”
Then he’s gone and I’m watching him place his hand on Toby’s shoulder, walking him out of the shop.
Toby’s question rings in my head. The hatred I had for him morphed into like at some point and it continues to move further up the scale. I need to figure out how to keep it from rising any further before I regret it.
17
Dane
“Did the principal call?” Toby asks again as I walk us over to the path that runs along the ocean.
“No. Why are you so worried about that?” I look down at him, figuring he’s probably hiding something that happened at school today, but I’m not going to harp on it because what we’re about to talk about is much more important.
He shrugs. “Because usually you only make us walk this route when you want to lecture me about something that happened at school or when you said we were moving into our own house when grandpa was sick.” His head swivels my way, his eyes wide with fear.
“No, buddy, grandpa is fine. If anything, he’s a bigger pain in my ass than ever,” I mumble.
“Then what’s going on?”
I find a more secluded area right before we get into town because if we venture too far in, we’ll be bombarded with people stopping to talk to us.
“Here, sit down.” We walk out on the plank and our legs dangle over the edge. The quiet inlet of the ocean seems like a good enough place to tell him his mother doesn’t want him.
“So, I talked to a lawyer today and I wanted to ask you something.”
I’ve delayed this talk until Sara signed the papers because I didn’t want to rehash the fact that I’m not his biological dad unless I knew what I hope will happen was a possibility.
“What?” he looks over at me, his eyes unsure what this could be about.
“I want to adopt you.”
“Why?” His little brows draw together.
“Well, I want it legal that you’re my son.”
He gazes out to the ocean for a while and I let the words absorb. It can’t be an easy thing to deal with.
“She doesn’t want me, right?” His voice cracks.
“No buddy, if she could take you, she would. I fought for you.”
He looks up at me, his eyes almost amazed.
“Why?” he says in such a small voice I swear I hear the shell around my guarded heart fracture.
I wrap my arm around his shoulders, pulling him into my side. “I think we’ve got a pretty good thing going, don’t you?” My voice is lighter now in the hopes that he’ll see the good parts about this, not the negative.
He nods. “What changes if you adopt me?”
“Nothing. Not a thing.”
“So, I can still call you dad?”
“That’s who I am to you.”
When Toby was two, I took him to the park and another kid was there with his dad. He’s called me Dad ever since that day. Well, other than the month after we explained to him about me being his uncle and my sister, Sara, being his mom after a surprise visit. My parents and I wanted to make sure there were no secrets. He referred to me solely as Uncle for awhile until one night he had a nightmare and I slept in his bed with him. The next morning, I got my reward of being dad again. Best word in the English dictionary.
“Hey, Toby.” I grip him firmer to pull him from his haunting thoughts. “You’re an amazing boy and I knew it the minute you were born. I mean, your crying at two in the morning was a little nerve-wracking, but I love you. I’ve always loved you as my own and I want that documented.”
“What if she wants me back?”
Out of all the questions, he has to ask the one that’s like a knife slicing my heart open. He’ll never be number one in her life, but damn if I’m going to tell him that.
“If I adopt you and we go to a judge and have paperwork filed, she can’t take you away from me.”
“Was I a bad kid?”
“No. The fact you had more energy than that damn rabbit with the batteries was tiring, but you were an awesome kid. Listen.” I turn him by his shoulders so he can look in my eyes and see how serious I am. “Your mom not sticking around Climax Cove has nothing to do with you. She’s just free spirited, like a bird that’s hard to cage. But, she’s the one missing out. I get to spend everyday with you, and it’s a gift I don’t take for granted.”
He nods, still quiet.
“Hello? I’m Mr. Irresponsible, but I haven’t been able to leave your side for eight years.”
A small smile starts at the corner of his lips.
“So, are you going to let me adopt you?”
“Well, how about that Xbox game?” His lips widen and his gapped-tooth smile emerges, causing a warm feeling to bloom in my chest.
“You’re going to try and cut a deal with me?” I chuckle and pull him into my chest, pretending to give him a noogie.
He laughs and I hold him tight in my arms. He may no longer smell like watermelon from his toddler shampoo, and he hardly wants to sit in my lap much anymore, but he’s mine. Always has been and now always will be.
“Do you think the cake is cooled now?”
He dislodges himself from me and stands up on the plank.
“That’s it. Our conversation is over?” I jump to my feet and he’s already starting to walk back to the bakery.
“What do you want? Crying and hugs?” He chuckles and runs because he knows I’m about to chase him.
I catch him before he rounds the corner of Marcus’ boat restoration shop.
“I love you, Toby.”
He nods. “I love you, too, Dad.”
And it’s over. The conversation I was worried about is all over. I’m not naïve enough to think those are the last of his questions, but he’s accepting me, which speaks more than rehashing the fact that he has a mother who doesn’t want him and a biological father not even my sister could identify, which speaks to how hard my sister was partying back then. Hell, probably still is.
“You sure are eager to get back to the bakery,” I say. He’s walking so fast I can barely keep up.
“Miss Ava promised me I could frost the cake.”
“I’m sure she’s going to wait
for you. She frosts enough cakes everyday, she probably welcomes the break.” I finally catch up and fall into step with him as we pass the library.
“You like her, don’t you?” Toby asks.
“She’s okay. A little ornery,” I respond, hoping this isn’t going to become our topic of conversation.
“If you ever get married some day, what if the girl you’re with doesn’t want me?”
I stop us and place my hands on both of his shoulders and squeeze. “You’re kidding me, right? Me and you are a package deal. If she doesn’t want you, then I don’t want her.”
He nods, turns on his heels and starts up with the fast walking again, saying nothing in response.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about this more?” I call after him.
He turns his head to look at me behind him. “No, that’s it. I’m good, Dad. Promise.”
He finally stops outside the doors and I see Ava’s closed the shop since we’ve been gone.
“I’m going to invite Miss Ava over for dinner, and we’ll have the cake for dessert.” He opens the door and steps in.
“Why don’t we just eat at the grill?” I say, following him to the back of the store.
“Because she made a cake. You should make her dinner.” He says it matter of factly and keeps walking.
“Don’t go playing matchmaker, Toby.”
He turns around, a smirk way too similar to the one I’ve been accused of sporting more than once. I might as well be looking into a mirror.
Like father, like son I suppose. I can’t help but grin back.
Later that evening, Toby is passed out in his bed and Ava is grabbing her coat and purse to leave. I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her middle.
“Trying to sneak away? Planning to steal my car again?” I chuckle in her ear and she shakes her head.
“You stranded me here.”
“Maybe because I wanted to make sure you couldn’t sneak off.” The scent of her vanilla shampoo puts my body at peace. “I never figured a one-night stand would steal my car.”