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Sorry you don’t feel like you can talk to me openly which is why you have to runaway whenever an opportunity presents itself?
Sorry you don’t believe that Fate knows what she’s doing anymore?
While all of those are perfect paintbrushes, I could’ve used to stroke the conversation, simply not picking one up at all seems like the better call.
I would hate for an emotional spill to become an emotional stain instead, especially when I’m already lost about how to clean up the splatter to begin with.
Chapter 5
Tucker
There’s saying the wrong thing and then there’s saying thewrongthing.
Unfortunately for me, Athena blessed me with the ability to do both.
At once.
It’s the shittiest magic trick to ever exist.
Fuck, it’s even worse than Lo’s throwing food around pretending it disappeared.
At least that shit’s cute.
At least we can tip a waiter extra well for the inconvenience of an extra mess made.
“Tadah,” Rich unexpectedly says over my shoulder as he descends the two back patio steps of their cabin to hand me a glass of whiskey. “Better trick than my grandson’s, huh?”
I lightly chuckle at the same time I take the glass. “Definitely.”
“You tell June we’re keeping him for the night?” He drops down into the space beside me. “That we’re gonna take him to the bakery for breakfast before meeting up with Cherie and Claude for a private trip to the Dalvegan Aquarium?”
Foul mood or not, it’s impossible to fight the grin growing.
Rich has been an amazing grandparent.
And his family?
They’re just as incredible.
It doesn’t seem to matter to any of them that I’m technically only his stepson. To them, there’s no technicality. I’m simply his son. And Lo is simply his grandson. And the open arms that have been offered nonstop in spite of my resistance to building a relationship with him is admirable.
It also has a funny way of humbling my ass every chance it gets.
Fate’s way of reminding me that despite the absence of the man I call Dad, I still have one.
A really fucking good one.
After they returned from their private wedding getaway, I kept my word. I worked towards building our own bond that not only had he earned but that didn’t dishonor the man who raised me. He’s never once demanded I call him father or that Lo calls him grandpa or denied that Lo had another grandparent he never got to meet. His dedication to respecting my boundaries over the years has made it easier to step into the “son” role with him at the helm of “father”. Neither of us use the label for our relationship, but that doesn’t change what it is.
What we’ve come to mean to one another.
“I’ll tell her when I get back to our place.”
Rich nods his understanding.
“And please, don’t let Lo convince you to bring homeanymore animals,” I good naturedly tease. “Fate knows my wife’s already less than thrilled we’re bringing home a baby rabbit.”
“Can’t believe we’re really going home with a bunny as a souvenir.” A small taste of the copper-colored beverage is taken. “Are tacky shirtsthatout of style?”
