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“No, short, dark-haired, just nodded at me, asked me if you were taking Zach’s kid. I said yes, and he left. I might be wrong, but it was as if he was waiting in case you said no.”
“He knew Zach?” I had so many questions, hope flaring in my chest. “Is Zach coming?”
“He just asked about the baby, then left as if his ass was on fire.” Arlo sat down facing me. “What now?”
“I look after my nephew.”
It was as simple as that—Zach had left Charlie with me, and I wasn’t going to let either of them down. Arlo disappeared again, as if he couldn’t bear to sit still. Everything had collapsed in on me in the space of a few minutes and breathing was difficult as the weight of it all settled inside me. Zach was alive—after all those failed leads and going from place to place trying to track him down, I had proof, and a kernel of hope that one day we’d meet. My eyes filled with tears again—stupid-ass tears—the emotions inside were leaking out, but a soft noise at the door startled me as Arlo came back in.
“Hey,” he whispered, and held up a mug and a plate. “I made coffee and found this cake.”
He eyed my favorite cake, as if the slice was going to leap up and kill him, and it made me smile. He was a sucker for any kind of cake, as long as it didn’t have fruit in it, apart from raspberry, but he liked to argue they were mashed up anyway. I loved that I knew this about him—it was an old familiar thing that eased a little more weight from my shoulders. In fact, the heaviness of everything slipped away for a moment because of that smile. I needed him to be here with me. I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be okay.
“Sounds good.”
He tiptoed into the room, which was hella funny for such a big man, and used these exaggerated movements to show me he was trying to be quiet as he placed the mug and cake on the table next to me. The plate clattered a little, and he winced. Both of us checked on Charlie, who by now was sleeping—like the proverbial babe in arms.
“I made a bed thing,” Arlo said, and went back out to fetch whatever this bed thing was. He came back with a drawer, which was ingenious, that he’d lined with soft things—a blanket, a couple of my T-shirts folded up—hiding any glimpse of wood with towels. “I have a crib in my attic, family heirloom, so I’ll tidy it up and bring it over for you to borrow, but for now this could work?”
Yeah. Of course. I needed to think about the practicalities.
“I can always ask Reid if he has either of the girls’ old cribs in the morning,” I whispered, and wished I hadn’t, when Arlo seemed disappointed. “But yeah, I’d love yours, and I’m sure Charlie would too,” I added.
He brightened. “Great, I’ll get on it tomorrow.”
“It’s the weekend tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“Y’know,” he said with a shrug.
I did know. He never stopped working, but he always smiled.
“You need to leave for your date,” I reminded him.
He shrugged. “I cancelled on Wilton. Thought I’d hang around in case you needed me here. Unless you’re calling your family, in which case I can go, but it won’t be to go on a date?—”
“I’d like you to stay.” My heart expanded, and relief flooded me—my brother was alive, and Arlo wasn’t going on a date, but was staying by my side.
“I don’t know how long I’ll have Charlie for,” I murmured, placing my nephew in the drawer, as gentle as I could be, hoping he wouldn’t wake up, then half hoping he would so I could check he was okay. Was he breathing? I stared at his chest, watching for the rise, same as I had done with my girls when they were this tiny. “Zach could come back tomorrow.”
“The letter made it sound as if it would be a while,” Arlo warned, but I couldn’t hear that, too wrapped up in this idea that Zach was just around the corner waiting for me to see him.
After all this time and all the searching, I could get to meet my brother, and I couldn’t sit still, because a surge of adrenaline, maybe excitement, rose in me, and I had to move. “I need more coffee, this one’s cold. Do you want some?”
“No thanks.”
“I’m getting some. I’m going for coffee.” I still hadn’t moved. My skin felt tight, my head still hurt, and I wasn’treallygoing for coffee, but I needed to be doing something. After checking on Charlie, I headed out to the kitchen, and Arlo followed.
I poured another coffee, then stared at it before giving up and leaning against the kitchen counter. The crumpled letter was sitting there, the words danced on the page until they were nothing but a blur. Zach had written that letter, knowing where I lived, trusting me to take his son, and I didn’t know what to do with the immensity of my feelings.
Arlo sighed. “We should call your family. I think your brothers and sister should?—”
“Leo and Reid are cops!” I regretted my harsh tone as soon as I said it. It wasn’t like me to snap at Arlo, and on the rare occasion I did, he gave me puppy-eyes, the same as he was doing now.
I didn’t imagine for a single minute that he knew what he was doing, but all the guilt balled in my chest. How could I tell my three siblings when they were all law enforcement; Leo and Reid both cops, and my only sister, Lorna, was interning at the DA’s office. I couldn’t risk any of them somehow making me contact family services out of their sense of duty. They wouldn’t do it to be hurtful, it would be wrapped in concern and love and hell, I’d probably end up doing what they suggested because they’d make so much sense. But not now—not tonight.
“Jax?” Arlo pushed.
“I didn’t mean to snap, but I can’t think right now,” I said, stalling for time. “What if we wait until Zach shows up, and then tell them all after the fact.”
