I adjusted the blanket covering Vincent, pulling it up a little higher. The air was cool and crisp, a pretty great spring night, actually.
Sure, the farm wasn’t all that close, but this seemed like overkill. But I was too weary to protest.
“I couldn’t sleep there,” he said softly, his shoulders drooping. “I kept worrying that you two would need me. This way, I can be close by, so if you think of something, just crack a window and call my name. I’m a light sleeper, so I’ll be fine.”
My chest panged. It was both sweet and ridiculous.
“I won’t push you. I swear. Our situation is…” He paused. “Unique. So it calls for a unique solution. And I told you, I’m in this 100 percent.”
His words held weight. They were maybe the most serious he’d ever spoken to me.
Legally he was entitled to time with his son. But the thought of being away from Vincent for even ten minutes caused panic to course through me.
At some point we’d need lawyers. A parenting plan and schedule. But for now, I couldn’t go there. Not when he was solittle and helpless. I’d fought so hard to successfully breastfeed, to decipher his cries and meet his needs. I didn’t want to stop now. I wouldn’t say anything about our situation was easy, but it was getting less impossible.
He was growing and gaining weight and sleeping a bit longer. The thought of Jasper taking him off to the farm made me sick. Not because Jasper couldn’t care for him, but because he needed me. And I needed him too.
“I just want to be close,” Jasper said, eyes pleading. “Things are scary right now.”
He was referring to the murder. I’d been out of the loop, but Ruby had told me that his family farm was being searched and that they still hadn’t caught anyone.
“And I need this,” he pleaded. “I need to protect you and Vincent. I need to provide, in my own weird way.”
His words hit me square in the chest. Dammit. It was time to face reality. I could put up walls and ice him out all day long, but there was no getting rid of Jasper Lawrence. He was on his own parenting journey, and it was wrong of me to get in his way.
“Fine,” I said. “But please set up your campsite in the backyard.” The last thing I needed was the Maple Street Mafia coming by on one of their morning power walks and finding Jasper in a tent on the front lawn.
“Got it.” He swung his backpack onto his back and hefted the tent and sleeping bag up, then headed around the house.
Vincent was stirring, and pressed this close to my chest, my body was reacting naturally. I’d have to feed him again soon.
But I was hit with another wave of determination, so I followed Jasper in hopes that I could talk him out of his plan this time. “This isn’t bizarre to you?”
“Nah.” He dropped the bags and found a flat patch of grass. “It actually makes sense. We’re short-staffed, the budget’s beenslashed, and I work a lot. Now that we’re into May, I’m not needed at the farm as much. My time is better spent here.”
I sighed. “But you’re sleeping on the ground.”
“I’ve got an inflatable sleeping pad. It’s great.”
I shook my head, equal parts annoyed and impressed by his attitude toward primitive conditions. I could only sleep when equipped with a sound machine, an eye mask, and a fancy pillow.
“I want to be close without invading your home, so this is an easy solution. I was living in my childhood bedroom anyway. About time I got my own place.”
“Your own place?” I scoffed. Unbelievable. “It’s a tent.”
He waggled his brows. “This thing is top of the line, with two rooms. It’s swanky.”
With a roll of my eyes, I turned toward the house. Fine. If he wanted to sleep on the ground and freeze his ass off, who was I to argue? “I’m going to go feed Vincent.”
Inside, I settled into the rocking chair in his room and got Vincent latched. Six weeks in, and this kid was a pro. Maybe it hadn’t been easy, but it was incredible, the way my body could feed and sustain him.
As I rocked, I picked up my phone and debated calling my friends. This entire situation was ridiculous.
But zipping in behind that thought was another one. This one unexpected. Maybe Jasper was serious. Maybe he would be a great dad and prove the gossipy old bags wrong.
Eyes squeeze shut, I quickly extinguished the idea. I couldn’t let myself get hopeful that he’d step up.
He was a virtual stranger, a playboy, and, if the town rumor mill was to be believed, not the most reliable guy.
