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I swallow thickly as the first tatted-up man enters in a jumpsuit and finds his family.
Fuck.
It’s not every day you meet your son. Your flesh and blood.
Three more find their spots. The woman in the booth beside us does jazz hands when her scrawny boy in sweats waves at her through the window. I try hard not to smile and fail. They’re excited to see each other, that much is evident.
In saunters a big, scary motherfucker who takes up half the aisle as he makes bedroom eyes at what I assume is his old lady on the far end. Her tits heave out of her low-cut tank top as she blows kisses to him from her seat.
Then the atmosphere changes.
The air thins.
Kit notices Adam half a beat before I do. Her body goes taut, and she blows out a low breath as he steps into his side of the booth.
Adam’s eyes, the same color and shape as mine, meet his mother in hello then tilt to examine me like I’m an organism inside a Petri dish. They falter, as does his poker-faced expression when he realizes who I am.
Smart kid.
Tears well in my eyes.
They swim in his too as his mouth opens and closes in disbelief.
I tip my head in greeting and swear my heart nearly explodes when a lone tear begins its trek down my son’s cheek before he swipes it away with the back of his hand just as quickly as it appears.
Kit tugs on my pant leg, and I finally break eye contact with Adam to look at her. She’s smiling, despite the blotchy flush to her cheeks from breaking down in the bathroom.
Gorgeous.
Unable to control myself, I tilt her head back and bend to drop a kiss on her forehead.
“Best. Day. Of. My. Life,” I whisper to her hairline.
She sighs a wispy, delighted sound that shoots straight to my groin.
I groan lowly in response.
My lips still attached to her warmth, ’cause I can’t seem to let go. She touches the side of my face with gentle fingertips. I close my eyes and feel her there, smell her.
“I’m gonna talk to our son.”
I nod.
Our son.Myson.
Fuck.
A frog lodges itself in my throat, makin’ it hard to breathe.
I’m a pussy. I get it. I’m a goddamn pussy. I’d planned what I wanted to say to Adam on the ride here. Down to the speech about gettin’ his shit together and how I wanna help him do that.
Now look at me. I’m a mess.
If Big saw me now, he’d give me shit for goin’ soft. Then again, maybe not. He’s got a daughter now. Things change when you become a parent.
“You can speak to him when I’m through, okay?” Kit traces my jawline in the barest of touches. My lips tremble against her forehead.
I nod again, once, knowin’ I can’t speak. Adam’s watching us. Bet he thinks I’m a sorry fuck for a father, actin’ this way with a woman I barely know.
