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She took a deep breath and plunged on. “You don’t hug him. You don’t ever wrap your arms around him and squeeze him to you.”
Janet’s eyes dropped from his as the dagger in his chest was twisted. Christ—he never hugged his son? He racked his brain but couldn’t remember a single time since Zach had been little that he’d had him in his arms. Fuck—it was true. She was right. He wasn’t a demonstrative parent and he’d never even fucking realized it!
Why couldn’t he hug his kid more? Why should it feel like there was a wall there when there wasn’t one? Why was he at his most comfortable when he was in his barn? Or behind his study door where he felt more in control of his life?
As she watched him with a flush on her face, as if she were the one who was feeling pained, he swallowed hard and settled back in his seat, resigned to the inevitable, to what he knew he needed to hear. “Okay. Yeah. Tell me what I can do better.”
She immediately looked relieved and then she launched into it. “Can you try to work in a hug now and then? I know you ruffle his hair—can you not just pull him into your arms while you ruffle his hair?”
Jeff licked his lips in agitation. What she requested should have been so easy, but why did he feel like it was almost impossible?
She must have felt his angst from across the desk because her soft features softened even more as she jumped to her feet and came around the desk to stand in front of him. He immediately spread his thighs wide as she came between them, putting her hands on his shoulders and staring in to his eyes as she said softly, “Jeff—the next time y’all are both standing and you go to ruffle his hair, just pull him into your side with your free arm—it doesn’t have to be long or drawn out. But please, Zach is too young not to feel anyone hug him, and I don’t want to push myself on him any more than I’m already doing.” Her hands caressed his shoulders, as if imparting strength. “It needs to be you,” she said softly, lovingly. “You’re his father.”
His hands fell to her hips. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Will you?” she asked, her heart in her eyes.
He nodded his head. Yes, he would—for his son—for her. He’d do anything for her, try anything for her, be anything she wanted him to be.
She looked relieved for a moment but then she seemed to take a breath before digging in deeper, one hand drifting up and running over his jaw line is a soft caress that made his hands clench harder around her hips. “And somehow, you need to find something that would interest you both so you can spend more one-on-one time with him.”
“Like what?” he asked, sliding his hands up and down her legs as he breathed in her scent, feeling almost as if she could solve all his problems and worries.
She swayed into him. “I don’t know exactly. But he’s so smart. And he seems interested in what you do, especially when you’re closed up in here.”
“I know he’s smart. Really good with numbers. But it’s never occurred to me that he would be interested in this stuff, not at such a young age.”
She nodded her head, agreeing with him. “You should ask him if he wants to know more, to learn about your operation. I bet you’ll be surprised at how quickly he agrees.”
Jeff steepled his fingers once again. “I can try. I can try to get him interested.”
With that, she smiled as if he were her damn hero or something and leaned in to kiss him. As he let her take the kiss, fire erupted in his gut as emotion exploded in his heart. How the hell could he have been so lucky? Had the stars aligned just perfectly, giving him a woman who made him feel so damn good, who treated his kid like her own, a woman who appeared out of nowhere when his life had been so empty?
However the hell it had happened, he was going to take it—even now his fingers grasped her upper arms, never wanting to let go. As she lifted her lips from his and her eyelids lifted, the emotion he saw blazing back at him coalesced into a fervor that produced an instinctive reaction. Sliding one hand firmly into her hair, he spoke the words that couldn’t be contained any longer, no matter how vulnerable they made him feel. “I love you.”
She froze under his touch but her eyes dilated, a beautiful blush forming on her cheekbones that reassured him immediately. He found his fingers tightening even more so. “You understand me, Janet? I love you. I love everything about you—and babe—I love the way you love my kid.”
Her brilliant eyes formed tears as one slipped down her cheek. “I love you, too. And I do love your kid.” She watched him intensely and added softly, “Our kids.”
He sucked in a breath as a wave of possession overcame him. “Yeah—our kids,” he agreed without hesitation.
Her nostrils flared, her lips quivered as she smiled shakily. And with that, she stared at him intensely for a few seconds longer before letting out a shaky breath and laying her head on his chest.
Jeff felt his heart rate explode and then slowly settle as he held her, not about to let her get up and leave the room anytime soon.
Chapter Fourteen
A month or so later, Janet was so content she almost couldn’t believe it. Jeff had embraced her ideas about getting closer to Zach, and now, father and son could be found, more often than not, closed up in Jeff’s office where Zach was learning about his father’s operation. Zach seemed to enjoy the time he spent alone with his dad, and she could read the pleasure in both of their eyes.
It pleased her mightily.
And on this particular night, something else pleased her. A lot. It was a small word in Zach’s vocabulary that she noticed—and it didn’t have anything to do with his colorful language. It went much deeper than that, and although it truly wasn’t that much, it made her heart catch when she heard him say it.
And Jeff was there to hear it as well.
It was after supper and they were all in the living room watching television, Janet curled up on the sofa with Jeff’s arm slung around her, her head in his lap. Hannah was big enough to sit on her own now, and she was on a blanket in the middle of the room, surrounded by toys.
Zach was lying on his stomach in front of her, amusing himself, or Hannah, or both. Janet wasn’t paying much attention as she was exhausted from the day of deep cleaning, but she was aware that Zach was pointing out objects and interacting with H
annah, just as he’d been doing for some time now—as she’d taught him to do when he’d seemed interested.
“Where’s the puppy?” he asked Hannah now.
She heard Hannah’s chortle and Zach’s approving laugh.
“Where’s the doll?”
As Janet heard yet more laughter, her eyes began to slip closed as a deep-seated feeling of contentment settled in her veins—and it was then that she heard it.
“Where’s mom?” Zach asked.
Her eyes flew open at the same moment Jeff’s hand froze where it had been caressing the indent of her waist. She glanced down and Hannah was looking straight at her and gurgling with happy laughter.
“Where’s dad?” the boy then asked.
Hannah’s eyes immediately shifted to Jeff as she chortled again.
As Zach continued to amuse and engage Hannah, Jeff’s hand found hers and he gripped it, hard. She glanced into his eyes and found them focused on her, approval and satisfaction blazing down as he gave a simple dip of his chin, as if they were accomplishing something really good together.
And it was good. It was true that Zach hadn’t really called her ‘mom’. But he had said it—and he’d made it plain that he recognized and was okay with the fact that Jeff was Hannah’s dad as well as his own.
So yeah, it was good.
Spectacularly good.
****
As the months passed, Jeff was sort of surprised that he always liked it whenever Janet’s mother came to visit. It wasn’t something he actively thought about, he just knew that he liked the woman. She was kind and caring and had accepted both him and his son into her daughter’s life with nothing but openness and approval.
She spread her love around. She wasn’t anything like the crazy-assed motherin-laws from hell that you heard about. His was sincere and sweet and always helpful when she visited. Not to mention, with every visit, Janet’s cooking had improved as she’d learned from her mother, which truthfully, was just an added bonus—the cherry on top of his damn perfect life.
