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Because she’d known that he’d been dealing with enough just coming to terms with losing his leg. Just trying to find a way to piece his life back together and work out a new path for himself, and for his future.
She’d already explained to him the reasons for her keeping Seth a secret, and they were true. But it hadn’t stopped a part of her from always railing against the fact that her son didn’t know his father, especially one he could be proud of like Zeke.
The fact that he’d started Z-Black certainly explained how he’d dropped off-grid after leaving the rehab’s home. And why the first time she’d heard of him was years later when the newspaper had run those reports about Zeke, the hero coxswain.
Despite herself, Tia felt a soft smile toying with her mouth as she followed Zeke upstairs, still cradling Seth in his arms.
There were so many Zeke-like traits that she recognised. As bizarre as it might seem to a casual onlooker, she knew him well enough to understand why a multimillionaire would be working as a coxswain for a lifeboat charity. The sea ran through his blood, much as it did hers. It was who he was, and it was what he loved.
The Westlake connection still baffled her, though. Why had he come back there, of all places, to be a coxswain? He’d hated the place. Barely able to hang arou
nd at the scene of his awful childhood once he’d become old enough to join up.
If she hadn’t known better she might have fancifully imagined that he’d come back because of the connection to her. To the way they had first met.
Tia hastily shut the idea down. To believe that was foolhardy. He wouldn’t have come back for her. Ever. If there was one thing Zeke had never been, it was sentimental. But then, what had that angry young man, dragged up in a town of people who looked down on him, ever, ever had to feel sentimental about?
No, he hadn’t come back for her. She couldn’t allow herself to think that way. She didn’t want him to have come back for her. It was too raw, too electrifying. She’d spent her entire youth terrified that every time her mother walked out of the front door that would be the last time they would ever see each other, and then it had happened.
Somehow, Zeke—charismatic, indomitable Zeke—had convinced her that he was bulletproof. That he would always walk back through their front door.
Until he hadn’t. And the pain had been intolerable.
And now he was back to playing the hero, only this time behind the helm of a lifeboat rather than behind the trigger of a rifle.
She wouldn’t put herself through that again. More to the point, she wouldn’t put Seth through that.
And yet here she was, watching Zeke tenderly carry their son. Like the most precious cargo.
‘Where does a fish keep its money?’ Seth had gleefully asked during the flight—before exhaustion had finally overwhelmed him.
‘I don’t know.’ Zeke had pondered thoughtfully, and then proceeded to offer a myriad solutions, each one more absurd than the last and eliciting howls of laughter from a delighted Seth.
In the end, their son had almost been reluctant to answer, knowing it would be the end of the hilarious and outlandish suggestions from the man who had suddenly, unequivocally, entered his little life.
‘In the riverbank,’ Seth had announced proudly, his tiny chest positively swelling as Zeke had slapped his palm to his forehead and proclaimed how silly he’d been for not realising and then had wonderfully hammed up how impressed he was.
Now, hurrying behind them both to her temporary bedroom, Tia shook her head. As if that could somehow reorder the jumble of thoughts churning around in there, each vying for pole position.
‘These are your rooms,’ he announced, kicking open the slightly ajar door with one foot and striding inside. ‘I’d have given you the tour but I had a feeling you would want to stay with Seth so he doesn’t wake up alone in a strange bed. Your luggage will be brought up imminently.’
‘This will be just fine,’ she murmured, taking in the room, which was probably about the size of a small Parisian apartment. The sheer grandeur of it making her feel gawkish and out of place.
Another reminder that Zeke was now a multimillionaire, who could probably afford to pay the best lawyers to win custody of Seth—if he so chose. He might not have outwardly threatened to do just that, but it was there, simmering below the surface.
It should twist her in knots. But it didn’t.
Why?
Because a part of her truly believed, deep down, that Zeke would never do that to her or Seth. Was she being naïve?
She hovered as Zeke laid Seth gently on the bed before moving to an ornate blanket box and taking out a colourful throw to cover his son.
‘This is Seth’s room,’ Zeke informed her pointedly, before indicating across to the far wall. ‘Your rooms are through that adjoining door. Feel free to freshen up, even take a nap. I imagine it has been a fairly stressful seventy-two hours. Dinner will be in two hours in the large dining room. I’ll give you the tour after that.’
‘So formal for just the three of us?’
‘Actually I thought Seth might prefer to eat a little earlier with some of Mme Leroy’s grandchildren, since she babysits them from school every day before her daughter can collect them. Just for tonight whilst we discuss the ground rules whilst you are here.’
