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CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Fletcher
Loki watches me as I hit the heavy bag in the garden. I was cautious about using it at first. Loki normally loves to watch me work out. Initially, he’d whine and try to get involved, but these days, he enjoys lying on the patio stones, staring, tongue hanging out. I thought the bag might be too loud for him today, but he’s resilient, back to his old ways. I hit it repeatedly, wilder than usual, thinking of the bastard who tried to hurt my woman.
“Dad?”
I turn to find James standing at the back door. Loki runs over to him. I smile as James kneels down and strokes Loki. James might talk a big game about not being a dog person, but he can’t hide the boyish grin on his face as he greets Loki. James hasn’t asked how I got Loki back, so I haven’t told him.
“You okay, son?” I ask.
He wanders onto the patio. “Not really. I just made a fool of myself at Samantha’s school.”
My blood turns to ice. The bag whines behind me. My fists are clenched tight in the gloves. “Why were you at Samantha’s school?” I ask, my voice dark.
James swallows. Maybe he thinks I’m going to lose my shit on him. If he were anybody else, I would.
“I hired a barbershop quartet,” he says. “I wanted to impress her. Show her I’m worth a second chance.”
“Butwhy?” I growl. “You only went on one date. I don’t understand this at all.”
I’m being a major hypocrite here. I didn’t even need a single date to know she was the one for me, but I can’t stand the idea of my son feeling this way. If I had to choose… Jesus, I can’t even think like that. Maybe I haven’t been the perfect father. Hell, there’s nomaybeabout it, but this is just too much.
“I can’t help how I feel,” he says quietly, looking down at Loki’s smiling, happy face. “She’s the one for me. That’s it.”
I swallow, shaking my head. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this. I’m not sure if there’s a way out of this. I’ll have to tell him the truth at some point. I’ll have to reveal how much she means to me, and then what?
The worst part is, I can’t even keep asking him to explain how he can feel so certain so soon. It’s the exact way I feel. This is so messed up. If—no,when—Samantha and I get married one day, she will be his stepmom. How is that ever going to work, considering all this?
“I take it she didn’t like the quartet,” I say after a pause.
“No,” he sighs. “That’s why I wanted to speak with you, Dad. I wanted some fatherly advice. You know what that is, right?”
I bow my head, meeting eyes with Loki. He looks at me as if to say,What’s up? We’re doing okay, aren’t we?Finally turning back to my son, I touch him on the shoulder. “We need to talk.”
He tilts his head, looking at me curiously. “About what?”
“Please, son,” I say. I expect him to get sarcastic when I call himson, as he often does, but I must say it in a different tone.
“Okay, Dad,” he replies.
I strip off the boxing gloves and toss them onto the patio. Loki follows us into the house. I wish I could speak with Samantha before I do this, but I can’t put it off anymore. This has gone far enough already. There’s too much heat and certainty in my heart, aimed at my woman, for me to let it go. I can’t eventryto let her go.
In the living room, I gesture to the chair. James sits slowly, looking at me with the concern I’ve seen in my own eyes many times in the mirror. After an operation. Before an operation. The day he was born.
“I have to tell you something,” I say, aware I’m delaying, but this is a conversation I never dreamed I’d be having. Ever. Not once. “It’s going to be difficult to hear, okay?”
“You don’t have to brace me,” he snaps. “Just lay it on me, Dad.”
We run our hands through our hair at the same time, and then both stop, acknowledging the match with a slight smirk. He lowers his hand and leans forward, staring at me, waiting for me to speak. My throat feels tight. Maybe some fatherly instinct deep inside is roaring at me to do the right thing: swallow my own love so my son can feel his. If Samantha wanted him over me, would I be able to do it then? But that’s a false comparison. She doesn’t want him. She can’t. We belong together.
“Samantha and I are seeing each other,” I say, which is one hell of an understatement. “We recently started a relationship. I’m sorry, son. I know this will rock your world, but Samantha’s my girlfriend.”
James shakes his head slowly. I expected a bigger reaction, but he seems to be hiding his feelings behind a shield of coldness. Maybe he’s so devastated he can’t accept what he’s just heard. “Explain,” he says after a long pause.
I sigh, wishing I was with her in bed again. I should’ve held her tightly this morning and kept her right next to me so we didn’t have to deal with any of this, but that’s a selfish, cowardly thought.
“You know, James…” I laugh, but there’s nothing funny. It’s just a noise. It’s just a way to let out some of the tension. “It’s actually very similar to you. When I saw her, I knew I wanted her. I knew she was mine. I knew… Hell, I even wrote it all down the day we met. I thought if I could get it out of me, maybe I’d be able to let her go, but I can’t. Last night, I was with her. We went on a date.”
