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I feel Ford and Emerson watching us. “Does he need a life jacket or something? I should have bought one for him.”
Emerson laughs and, fuck, I’ve missed that sound. She walks toward the lounger she was sitting on, and that’s when I notice a big-ass duck float behind the chairs.
“Quack, quack,” he says, and pride fills me. “That’s right, buddy. You are so smart… The duck says quack quack.”
Beside us, Ford starts singing, “Old McDonald had a farm ei-ei-o, and on that farm, he had a duck. Ei-ei-o.” Kiran whips his head toward Ford and gives him the biggest smile, like‘dude, you know my song.’
“That’s his absolute favorite song…so be careful or you’ll start something you won’t be able to stop, Pretty Boy,” she says playfully, but Ford’s eyes are still connected to Kiran’s.
“Holy fuck,” he says, and covers his gaping mouth. “I mean, holy duck!”
Emerson passes me the float, and that draws Kiran’s attention back to his mom, who’s eyeing Ford.
I place him inside his little friend.
“Ride,” he babbles, and I push him to Ford in response, gaining more giggles as we pass him back and forth between us in the water.
“Okay, I’m going to go see if Lottie needs help finishing up the sides,” Emerson says, biting her lip. Not in the sexy way I’m used to seeing, but with worry instead.
“I got him. I promise,” I say, trying to control any edge in my tone, because I know I don’t owe her anything, but I also understand she’s just trying to be a good mom—something she never had.
As soon as she walks away, Ford says, “You weren’t lying. There is no doubt in my mind.” A sad smile crosses his face as he admires the little guy, who looks like the perfect combination of Emerson and me.
We continue entertaining Kiran but, truthfully, he’s entertaining us. I could listen to him giggle and babble all day long. He’s just so damn cute.
Suddenly, his happiness turns to cries, and he wipes at his eyes. “What’s wrong, buddy?” I ask, scooping him out of his float, trying to provide comfort. He continues rubbing his eyes, and that’s when I see the white residue from the sunscreen Emerson likely put on him before they came outside.
I carry him over to the lounge chairs and grab a towel. “Get me a bottle of water. I think he has some sunscreen in his eye,” I say to Ford.
“It’s okay, my guy, I got you,” I whisper, gently rubbing his hair. I use the soft towel to wipe his face off so no more gets in his eye.
“Thank you,” I say to Ford’s outstretched hand holding the water bottle. “Pour some on the corner of the towel for me.”
Dabbing his eyes with the wet towel seems to soothe the burn, and he stops trying to rub at his eyes. “Does that feel better, Kiran?”
He doesn’t answer, instead he picks up the bottle of water off the chair and holds it out to Ford. “Milk,” he babbles, and Ford laughs.
“Damn, already bossing Uncle Ford around… You want some milk, huh?” Ford asks him with a chuckle.
My friend shifts his attention to me. “Should I go ask Emerson?” Before I can answer, a mischievous grin spreads across Ford’s face. “Wait, does he want milk…. Or does he wantmilk, milk?”he asks, squeezing his own pec.
I laugh at his ridiculousness, but then the image of Emerson holding Kiran to her chest and feeding him runs through my mind, causing that ache to come back. I wonder if she did breastfeed. Did she have help when he was a newborn? How beautiful was she with him growing inside of her?Damn, I missed so much…
Anger and sadness swirl through my veins as I stand. “I’ll go ask her.”
Kiran buries his head into my chest as I stand, and the feel of his little body seeking comfort from me lifts the heavy weight that’s been lying on my chest.
“Food’s almost ready,” Greyson calls out.
“Shit, what time is it? I need to run back to my place before we eat,” I say, realizing she’s probably here.
“It’s almost two.” Greyson’s head turns from the grill for the first time, and I notice the way his hard exterior softens when he sees me holding Kiran.
“Hurry up. I’ll make sure there is still some food when you get back.”
I nod at him.
Emerson opens the sliding glass door at the same time we approach. She’s holding a bowl of potato salad in her hands and quickly sets it down when she sees us. “What happened?” She leans in close, running her hand over Kiran’s face.
