My lips quirk up in a smile, and I hold my hands up. “Okay, okay, just trying to help.”
With her expression softening, she puts a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
I set the goggles back on the table and wheel the wire scrubber back to the shelf. When I turn around, Paige is leaning on the bench, her intense gaze on me.
“You can meet Noah, but I have rules.”
My mouth tugs up in a smile, remembering a different time and a different set of rules. She smiles too, and for a moment, we’re both back in that hotel room. A fission of energy sparks between us.
Then her smile drops, and she holds up her fingers, counting off the new rules.
“You don’t tell him you’re his father until I’m ready.”
I understand her reasoning, but it still stings. “What should he call me?”
She tugs on her lower lip. “He can call you Uncle Ryan. Everyone around here is his uncle, so that will work.”
She holds up a second finger. “You see him under my supervision until I say otherwise.”
Her caution is reassuring, and I nod in agreement.
“And three, you don’t tell anyone else you’re his father. Not yet.”
“Not until you’re ready?” I finish her sentence.
She nods. “It’s been Noah and me for two and a bit years. I don’t want everything turning topsy turvy and then you fucking off somewhere and leaving him in pieces.”
She glares at me, and I wonder what gave her the impression that I’d do something like that. I’ve just found her again. I’ve just found out about my son. How could I possibly leave? But this isn’t the time to delve into whatever hurt she’s holding on to. She doesn’t know me, not really, and I have to prove myself before she’ll trust me.
“Okay. I understand.”
“Good. I have to get going and put this back on my mower before I get Noah.”
She brushes past me, and I spin my chair to watch her go. Her ass sways confidently as she stalks down the path.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say to her retreating figure, but she’s too far away to hear me.
19
RYAN
Iround the corner from the treatment center to the residence area and freeze when I notice my door is open.
I wheel up slowly, wondering who my visitor is. It’s not the cleaner’s day, and I’ve just seen the doctor, so it can’t be the nurse.
As I reach the door, it pushes open further, and Hudson steps out. He sees me and frowns, and I brace myself for another beat down.
He looks me up and down, and his frown deepens. “So you can get out of bed.”
I exhale deeply, tendrils of relief creeping through me. He’s not here to threaten me, and he seems to have calmed down. He might be ready to listen.
“You want to come in for a coffee?”
He nods once and holds the door open for me. I wheel inside and straight to the kitchenette. It’s slow going filling the kettle andretrieving the mugs from my chair, and my wheel bumps against the cupboards, sending a jolt through my stump. But I grit my teeth, swallowing down the pain.
Hudson leans on the counter, watching me, and doesn’t offer to help, which I appreciate. As a former SEAL, he understands I have to learn to do things on my own.
While the kettle heats, I spin around to face Hudson. “Were you looking for me?”
