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Trace had learned a lot about patience during his time overseas, but this might be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Plus, he only had limited time before he’d be gone.
A very limited time.
“Joss,” Chrissie said in a soft tone. “This is Mommy’s friend.”
At her introduction, Trace’s jaw worked. Had she thought he was kidding when he said she’d tell the truth?
He’d lost enough time with Joss.
He wouldn’t lose more, nor would he have his kid thinking he was just one of Mommy’s friends.
* * *
Chrissie felt Joss’s fingers tangle into her hair, while he continued to stare at Trace. The finger tangling was something he frequently did when overly tired or nervous.
She’d never had any non-related man to their house, so how tightly her son’s legs dug into her waist didn’t surprise her. He definitely had his reservations about waking up to her arguing with a stranger.
A stranger who desperately didn’t want to be a stranger.
Trace’s restraint showed in every sinew of his body, which probably didn’t reassure Joss.
Her stomach twisted much tighter than Joss’s fingers in her hair.
Trace wanted her to tell Joss that he was his father.
She had to tell him, but how did one tell a child that he was looking at a father he didn’t know he had?
“Chrissie.” Trace stressed her name.
She walked over closer to Trace, causing Joss to cling tighter. No doubt her own nerves were affecting his comfort level, too, but there was nothing she could do about that. No way were her nerves going to settle.
“Joss...” she did her best to keep her voice calm, reassuring, but her insides felt completely the opposite “...Trace is a very special person who is going to stay with us for a while. Can you say hello?”
Her son made a grunting sound and turned his head away from Trace, burying his face against her chest.
Trace’s expression was taut, his normally tan skin pale, his eyes watery and desperate for recognition.
Her heart ached with misery for him. She couldn’t imagine seeing her child for the first time and him rejecting her when all she wanted to do was love him.
The look in Trace’s eyes said he did want to love their son and how she handled the next few minutes would make a major impact on how Joss responded to Trace.
“Joss, do you remember our stories about daddies?” She leaned back, trying to maneuver Joss to where she could see his face, but he burrowed down farther against her chest. “Well, Trace is your daddy. Isn’t that wonderful?”
That got Joss’s attention and he mumbled something against her chest that she couldn’t make out.
“What was that, baby?”
But whatever Joss had said was lost and he apparently wasn’t repeating. Just as well because she thought he had said he didn’t want a daddy.
She glanced up at Trace and gave a weak smile, then tried again. “Joss, do you think you could show Trace...um...your daddy your trains? He really likes trains and I bet he’d love to see yours.”
“You have trains?” Trace tried, his voice overly eager. “Your mom is right. I love trains.”
“Do you like Thomas?” Joss mumbled, still not looking up from his hunkered-against-her position.
Trace looked at her for help.
“Joss, if you’ll go show Trace...um...your daddy, your trains, I’ll cook us some breakfast. I can make those smiley-face pancakes you like.” She tried to keep her voice normal, level, not as if she’d just introduced her son to his father.
