Built (Saints of Denver #1)(63)
“You okay back there, buddy?”
“Yeah.” He was quiet for a second and then he said my name softly. “Zeb?”
I plastered a smile on my face and nodded encouragingly at him when he twisted to look at me.
“You’re my dad?”
“That’s right.”
“And I can come live with you?”
“Eventually. There are some things I have to do first, but I’m working really hard to get them all done.”
He stuck out his bottom lip like he was thinking really hard and then he stated so chillingly and matter-of-factly that it made my heart clench. “My mom died. I don’t want you to be my dad if it means you’re going to die.”
“Oh, Hyde.” I had to take a moment to get my composure back so I could answer him. “Your mom did some things that were really dangerous. I don’t do any of those kinds of things, so my chances of dying are really slim. I have you to take care of, so I promise to do my very best to stick around as long as possible, okay?”
He was quiet for a long time but eventually sucked his lip back in and flashed me that uneven grin.
“Okay.” He leaned back in his seat and looked out the windshield. “Will you still play with me and let me ride in the truck?”
I wanted to laugh but instead it came out as a wheeze of relief. “Yep. We can play every day and we’ll go for a ride in the truck whenever you want.”
He clapped his hands and grinned even wider. “If you’re my dad, does that mean when I get bigger I’m going to be a giant, too?”
That made me laugh for real. “Possibly, but you have to be a friendly giant if you get this big.”
“I can do that.”
And just like that, it was settled. I was his dad, he was my son, and we were a team from here on out. It was a good day and I needed to thank my niece and her big mouth and total lack of filter for doing what I, a grown-ass man, a giant according to my kid, hadn’t had the balls to do.
From the mouths of babes.
CHAPTER 13
Sayer
I scowled at the pretty saleswoman dressed fairly similarly to my own after-court outfit as she cruised by where Zeb was shaking his head at the price of bedding for a kid’s bed. She’d already asked once if she could help us find anything in the sprawling department store located inside the upscale Cherry Creek Mall. And I had already told her once that I knew exactly where we needed to go, so I could only assume her return appearance had more to do with the way Zeb’s ass looked in his faded jeans and the way his flannel shirt pulled across his shoulders than it did with any actual desire to help.
When she caught my dirty look she scampered off just as Zeb tossed the package containing the sheets with a thread count no little boy would ever appreciate back on the shelf. He crammed his hands through his wavy hair and turned to me with a frustrated huff. I saw an older lady who was looking at bath mats in the same section jump and scuttle to another aisle like Zeb was the Big Bad Wolf and he was getting ready to blow the whole place down. I liked the way he looked, more than liked it. He looked like he could take on the entire world and win, but that was apparently intimidating to the average high-end shopper. I rolled my eyes and turned to him as he put a hand on my elbow and started to lead me out of the linen section.
“Don’t they have sheets with trains on them or superheroes? Who spends five hundred bucks on a pair of sheets that the kid is gonna outgrow in a few years when he needs a bigger bed?”
His frustration was kind of cute. “I would. I won’t even tell you how much the sheets on my bed cost.”
He shifted his eyes to me and moved to wrap his bulky arm across my shoulders. The same older woman gave a sniff of disdain as we walked by and it was the saleswoman’s turn to give me a dirty look as we swept by on our way back into the belly of the mall.
“I like your sheets.” There was humor and innuendo laced together in his tone. “But your bed could be covered in sandpaper, and as long as you were naked on top of it I wouldn’t even notice.”
“Ouch.” I muttered the word softly but couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure that followed his sweet statement.
He chuckled at me and let his gaze skip over the rest of the fancy stores and their modern lettering and minimalist window decor. “I’m not going to find stuff for a kid’s room anywhere in this mall, am I?”
When he texted me and asked me to go with him to find stuff to get Hyde’s room ready, I initially wanted to tell him no. It felt too intimate, too permanent. It felt like not only was he crafting a place for himself in my everyday, but was working to make a specific space for me in his very busy and complicated life as well. I was so close to the edge with him. I hovered so close to letting go and falling all the way in with him. I was hanging on to that precipice with only my fingertips and it was so scary. At the place where there was nothing and it was barren and empty, I knew I was safe even if it was aching alone. I knew if I let go of the ledge the drop could kill me, that the impact would shatter me, so I kept clawing and clinging to familiar ground to keep myself aloft. As hard as I was holding on to the cliff and not wanting to give in to every emotion he pulled from me, Zeb was constantly there below, tugging, dragging, urging me to crash into him and into every promise of love and forever I could see he wanted to give me.
When I hesitated he told me that he had already asked Beryl, but Joss was home sick and his mom had plans for dinner. He insisted he needed a woman’s touch to help him get things right for his son’s homecoming and I couldn’t resist, but the only place to shop that I was familiar with in Denver was Cherry Creek. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot it was clear his dirty Jeep didn’t fit in with the Mercedes and Audis littering the parking garage and our trip into Nordstrom’s had only solidified the fact that where I shopped wasn’t exactly Zeb’s cup of tea. Even if the girls who worked there liked the rugged eye candy he provided.