“Paige won’t want your money, Ryan.” He finishes his coffee in a final gulp and sets the mug on the counter.
“I want to be in Noah’s life. I want to know my son. I want to help her raise him.” I leave the rest unsaid. That one day, maybe, I’ll get another chance with Paige.
“She’s raised that kid on her own since he was a baby. Don’t expect too much too soon. She needs time to get used to the idea of Noah having a father and what that role should be. Give her time.”
He thumps a hand on my shoulder, and I’m not sure if it’s friendly or threatening. “And if you hurt my family again, I’ll bust up your other leg.”
Then he squeezes my shoulder hard and stalks out of the room without another word.
I watch him go, the door clicking shut behind him, and for the first time, the silence doesn’t scare me.
I huff out a long breath of relief. There’s a chance to repair my friendship with Hudson. There’s a chance to step up and be a father. For now, that’s the best I can hope for.
20
PAIGE
The clock on the dash clicks over to 3 p.m. as I turn the corner into my street.
“We’re going to be late.” I tap the steering wheel impatiently but keep the van at a steady pace. My cargo is too precious to speed.
I glance in the backseat to see Noah staring grumpily out the window. His face is smeared with dirt mixed with the ice cream Annette Huntington gave him.
Noah was cranky that I rushed him with his ice cream, and I feel bad about it. Annette was cooing over him and insisting I leave her to mind Noah, but I didn’t want to leave him in case Chad was home. How that kindhearted woman spawned a son like that I’ll never know.
So here we are, one cranky kid covered in dirt and ice cream and a cranky mom who didn’t get all the work done I wanted to at the Huntington place. And now we’re late for the first proper meeting between Ryan and Noah.
It’s been three days since Ryan visited me in my shed, and I’m still apprehensive about my little guy meeting him. It’s been the two of us for so long, I don’t want to let anyone else into our little world, especially not if they’re going to leave.
As my house comes into sight, a memory flashes into my head. I’m five years old, waiting by the mailbox for my father to come home.
He never did. He left Mom and us, and I never saw him again.
I’m certain that when Ryan is healed, he’ll go back to wherever he’s from, and it will just be the two of us again. All we had together were two nights. Why would he stay? He may have said he went back to the bar for me, but that was years ago. It may as well be a lifetime ago, considering all that’s changed for both of us.
My thoughts are jolted as I pull into my driveway. The Rose and Thorns Garden Designs sign drips with spray paint. One word has been written in an angry red.
Whore
My blood goes cold, and my hands tremble.
A car horn honks at me from behind, and I realize I’ve stopped in the middle of the road.
“Beep beep,” echoes Noah.
I glance in the rearview mirror. The last thing I want is for him to see the sign, even if he can’t read it. But he’s too busy pointing at the car that beeped at us.
I pull into the driveway and leave Noah in the backseat. “I’ll be back in a minute, buddy.”
I march to the sign and grab the wooden post. I knock it about to try to wiggle it free, but the damn thing is hammered in too tight, thanks to my brother.
Noah whines as I stalk past him to the shed. I stop to take him out of his seat and sit him on the grass. “Wait here, okay buddy? Mommy just needs to do something.”
I’m shaking as I unlock the shed. Noah watches me as I march back to the sign, swinging a mallet. It hits the side of the post with a satisfying whack that reverberates up my arm.
I hit it again on the other side and again and again until it’s loose enough to pull out of the earth. I’m panting as I chuck it on the ground.
The word “Whore” stares up at me, and I almost laugh. If only they knew how long it’s been since I’ve even had a date.
