The Last Letter(74)

“You’d do that for me?” I asked as we reached my cabin, the truck coming to a soft stop.

“I would do anything for you.” His eyes locked onto mine in the dashboard lights, intense and a little hurt. “What is it going to take for you to believe me? To trust me? You want my background checked? Do it. You want my credit score? Awesome. My bank accounts? I’ll add you on. You have my word, my body, my time, and I’m standing here offering my last name. What else can I give you?”

“Beckett,” I leaned toward him, but he backed away.

“Not that you’d ever give them my last name, not when they don’t even get to know what we’re doing. Right? I can be their legal father, but I’m not good enough to be their dad.”

“That’s…that’s not what this is about.”

“Oh, I know. It’s that you don’t trust me to stay. You think I’ll walk out just like Jeff did. You think it will hurt the kids even more.”

“I figured we could tell them once Maisie was healthy.”

“If I’m still around by then, right?”

I hated and loved that he knew me so well. I didn’t even have to answer. He saw it in my eyes.

“Yeah. Okay.” He killed the engine and removed the keys. “I don’t even have the right to be upset. I know what I’m offering, and the being dad part isn’t in there, right? Just the legal protection. You need something, I’m giving it to you, just like I promised I would. Simple as that.”

He opened the door and got out of the truck. I followed quickly after, watching his back retreat down my driveway, toward the lake.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving my truck here. I’ll get it tomorrow before the game. The walk will do me good.”

“Beckett!” I called after him.

“Don’t worry, Ella,” he called back. “I know my role. I’ve got it. And I’ll still show up. That’s how badly I want…”

He didn’t finish, just threw up his hands and kept walking.

But I finished that sentence for him in my head about a dozen different ways.

How badly I want you.

How badly I want your kids.

How badly I want to be in your life.

How badly I want to show up for you.

How badly I want Maisie to live.

Every single one I came up with made me feel worse for not trusting him. But the guy was up against a lifetime of people making promises and leaving me.

And I was up against a lifetime of no one trusting him.

Weren’t we just a pair?





Chapter Sixteen


Beckett


Letter #15

Chaos,

I’m so sorry you lost someone. I can’t imagine how hard that must be, to grieve and still carry on with what you’re doing. Every time I lost someone, my parents or my grandmother, it always shut me down, like my body couldn’t process the enormity of my feelings. It says a lot about the kind of man you are that you can continue to show up, and I mean that in the best of ways.

You say you’re bad with people, that you don’t connect, but that’s not who I see when I open these letters. Or rather, who I hear. Someone who can’t connect wouldn’t be so open. Heck, they wouldn’t have written back in the first place. But you did, and I’m grateful.

Maybe you simply choose who you connect with, and that’s okay. I don’t think anyone wakes up and decides to be the social butterfly like my brother. That’s probably why you two are good friends. You balance each other out.

You know who else I bet you’d connect with? Kids. Maybe not everyone’s kids, but definitely your own. Have you ever thought about kids? It’s a random question, but I’m curious. Probably because I had mine so young, and I can’t imagine not having them, I kind of picture everyone I meet with kids.

Except Hailey. She’s one of my closest friends, and I’m sure one day she’ll make a great mom…after she successfully adults on her own for a while. Successful being the key word there. I bet you’ll love her when you get here. She’s gorgeous, and fun, and doesn’t picture everyone she meets with kids.

Anyway, I bet you’d be a great dad. Brooding and tough, but also sneaking in Star Wars marathons on lazy weekends. I could absolutely picture it…if I could picture you. Yep, I’m still hankering for a picture.

I hope I managed to distract you for a few minutes. I hope you know how very sorry I am for your loss.

~ Ella

…

I stood at the window of the downtown Denver high-rise, looking out over the city. This definitely wasn’t a place I could set down roots. Two months in Telluride had taught me that concrete and I weren’t compatible in the long-term sense.

Plus, Denver didn’t have Ella.

It had been a week since our fight in the truck, and we’d been polite…even friendly. But that easygoing rhythm we’d always had was nowhere to be found. Not with everything hanging between us.

If I wasn’t careful, she’d realize I was in love with her, and then we’d be in even deeper shit.

I’d never had a woman prick my temper the way Ella did. Hell, I’d sworn at her. I’d also never had a woman I cared to see more than once or twice, or one who owned my soul the way she did. Of course I’d agree to whatever terms she had when it came to the adoption. Not just because I was desperate to save Maisie and protect Colt, but because I’d give Ella whatever she wanted if it simply made her smile.