Spencer slammed his palm against the steering wheel, the sound echoing through the cab. “When were you planning to tell me?”
Nathan didn’t answer.
“Tell me, what was your plan when you invited me to this Find a Daddy Christmas mixer?”
Spencer didn’t speak again. He started the truck; the engine rumbling beneath them and drove in silence. The snow outside blurred the edges of the road, but Spencer didn’t give a shit about anything. His thoughts were loud enough to drown out everything else.
They pulled up to the bowling alley, and Jamie and Alfie climbed in. Jamie gave him a soft smile, but Spencer couldn’t return it. Not yet.
He dropped Nathan and Alfie off at their cabin. No one spoke. Not a word. Jamie moved to the passenger’s seat.
Spencer watched Jamie out of the corner of his eye, the only sweet comfort in the day’s chaos. But even that felt fragile now. Like everything could crack if he wasn’t careful. He leaned over and kissed the top of Jamie’s head. Spencer floored the truck, the engine screaming as they sped toward the isolated cabin.
Chapter Eighteen
Jamie
Jamie sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, water bottle in hand, watching Daddy Spencer swirl bourbon over ice like he was trying to calm something inside himself. The silence between them was thick, heavier than the snow outside. Jamie still didn’t understand what had happened between Daddy Spencer and Nathan—no goodbyes, no jokes, not even a glance when they were dropped off. Just silence. Cold and final.
Daddy Spencer sat beside him, close but not touching, and said quietly, “We need to talk.”
Jamie’s heart sank. Those words never led anywhere good. His fingers tightened around the bottle, and he nodded, afraid to speak. He didn’t know what this was about, but the fear crept in fast.Was this it?Was Daddy Spencer going to tell him it was over? That he’d changed his mind? That Jamie didn’t belong here after all?
Daddy Spencer took a slow breath. “I want you to come to Montana after the mixer. I want to spend Christmas with you.”
Jamie blinked.Christmas. Just Christmas. Not forever. Not stay with me.Just a holiday.A visit. His chest tightened, andhe reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out his binky and slipping it into his mouth without thinking. It was instinct—comfort, safety, something to hold on to when everything felt like it might fall apart.
He looked at Daddy Spencer, voice muffled but clear. “You want me for one week?”
Daddy Spencer turned to him, eyes soft but serious. “I want you to live with me, Jamie. I want you there. But if you change your mind, or if Montana doesn’t feel right, I’ll make sure you get back to California. No questions. No pressure.”
Jamie stared at him, binky still in place, heart thudding. He didn’t know how to explain it—how much he wanted this. Not just the trip. Not just the cabin. Daddy Spencer. The way he made him feel safe. Seen. Wanted.
“I’ll go with you,” Jamie said softly, pulling the binky out. “Wherever you are.”
Daddy Spencer didn’t say anything right away. He just reached over and took Jamie’s hand, holding it like a promise. And for the first time that night, the fear began to fade. Not completely. But enough to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t be left behind again.
Jamie sat curled on the couch, knees tucked under him, watching Daddy Spencer with quiet worry. The bourbon in Daddy Spencer’s glass barely moved, but his eyes were distant—haunted, almost. Jamie could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his shoulders stayed tense even in the soft glow of the cabin. Something was wrong. Something deep.
Daddy Spencer’s voice broke the silence. “We’ll get your things from Tom’s Jeep before we leave. Then we’ll stop in Brentwood for the rest. When I make a promise, I keep it.”
Jamie nodded, pulling his binky from his mouth and setting it gently on the cushion beside him. He hesitated, then asked softly, “Why are you pissed at Nathan?”
Daddy Spencer didn’t answer right away. He stared into his glass as if it held the truth he didn’t want to say. “Nathan didn’t tell me things I should’ve known. He left me out of the equation—about our old band, about the mixer.”
Jamie’s heart thudded. “Can you tell me what he didn’t tell you?”
Daddy Spencer’s voice dropped, rough around the edges. “We had a drink at a bar. And my ex showed up. Billy. He used to be in our band. Then he fucked around with another member behind my back. Nathan knew. He knew Billy broke up with that guy and that he’s coming to the mixer.”
Jamie lowered his head, staring at his shoes. The name Billy echoed in his chest like a warning bell. He hated the thought of him being there. It was already hard enough knowing Tom would show up, but Billy? That was a different kind of threat. A deeper one.
What if Daddy Spencer still cared? What if Billy wanted him back? What if Daddy Spencer wanted to go?
Jamie’s throat tightened. “Are they still going to visit Christmas week?”
Daddy Spencer closed his eyes, as if the question pressed against something tender. “Of course. They’ll come for a week. Nathan and I have had words before and always made up. He owes me an apology, and when he’s ready, he’ll come to me.”
Jamie couldn’t take the distance anymore. He climbed over Daddy Spencer’s knees, settling into his lap, facing him. He wrapped his arms around Daddy Spencer’s neck and held him close, heart pounding with everything he couldn’t say.
