Vincent grinned. A pleasant sensation rushed through him, leaving a tingling, almost minty effect in its wake. Mal might not have given birth to biological children, but to know he’d helped shape the lives of upcoming generations—that he’d been through the tears and temper tantrums, the ups and the downs, the joy and the crushing, dark doubt of parenthood—struck Vincent deeply. The unspoken understanding he shared with Mal was part of the reason why, after his difficult divorce, Vincent had formed the Single Dad Support Group. Knowing that there were other men out there who were doing their best to raise their child on their own put his struggle into context. To have one of those men stand at his side as a partner was support beyond any he’d received before.
The ball of cheese in Nikki’s hand was, at last, depleted. She went in for another handful, then glanced at Vincent before continuing.
“You’re doing a great job,” Mal said. The gentle lilt of his voice was sincere, and Vincent glanced to him again, smitten. To see Mal and Nikki get along so well excited him in innocent, childlike ways that made him want to laugh. The man he’d seen in Mal when they’d first met was the same man who stood with him now—genuine, compassionate, and caring. And while Vincent found Mal hot as hell, when Mal was with his family, Vincent saw another side of him.
Tender protector. Gentle tutor. Unyielding source of paternal strength.
“You’ve almost got it done!” Mal praised as Nikki continued her quest for the perfect amount of cheese. “There’s that one spot right there that could use just a little more…”
“Got it!” Nikki exclaimed. She jerked forward to reach the far side of the pizza, but did so a little too quickly. The sudden movement sent her chair skidding backward, and she lost her balance. Cheese flew from her hand, accompanied by a terrified shriek that curdled Vincent’s stomach and rendered his heart into pieces. Instinct took over, and he rushed to catch her, but before he could, Mal, who stood closer to Nikki, had already grabbed her mid-fall. Nikki, terrified, wailed and clutched at Mal’s shirt with a white-knuckle grip. Then, as though the shrieking, inconsolable child Mal had met no more than an hour ago was his own, Mal hoisted her up so she could grab onto his neck. Nikki, who was only three days away from turning six, wasn’t tiny anymore, but Mal showed no sign of difficulty holding her, and he didn’t hurry to put her down.
Vincent’s heart, once broken by fear, reknit itself whole.
A shred of mozzarella had landed in Mal’s dark curls. He held Nikki close to his chest as she sobbed and clung to him. The mess was a secondary consideration. In that moment, Mal only had eyes for Nikki, and Vincent only had eyes for Mal.
“Jeez, that was scary, wasn’t it?” Mal reached for the chair with his leg, using his ankle to nudge it back against the counter. “I remember once, when I was little, I pulled the fridge door open and smacked myself in the face because I got too excited, just like you did now. I’m glad that I was able to catch you before you got hurt. For a week, I had a lump on my nose that was swollen and red and hurt to touch, and the kids at school called me Rudolph.”
Through her sobs, Nikki made a noise that resembled a laugh.
“Itiskind of funny, in retrospect, but I’m glad that you don’t have to go through it.” Mal stepped away from the counter and squatted down slowly and carefully. This time, the strain on his face was more obvious. It tightened his lips and stiffened his movements—seeing his struggle, Vincent moved to his side. When Mal set Nikki down, Vincent offered his hand to Mal, and Mal accepted his help to stand again. Age, which stole Mal’s ease of movement, hadn’t embittered his spirit or stolen the love from his heart. When Mal stood upright again, Vincent squeezed his hand. Right now, it was as much of a thank-you as he could give. When Nikki was settled in for the night, he’d be able to speak more candidly about what he felt.
“Do you understand now why I say it’s important that you’re careful when standing on chairs?” Vincent asked Nikki. He didn’t want to sound cruel or uncaring, but Nikki was energetic and sometimes acted before she thought. If Mal hadn’t been there to catch her, she would have smacked her face against the counter with the full weight of her body. The potential outcomes from such an injury were too chilling to think about. “I know that it’s easy to get excited, especially when we have a guest over, but I promise that when I ask you to do something, it’s for a good reason.”
Nikki wiped her tears away. Every now and then, she hiccupped. Although she didn’t speak, she nodded.
A nonverbal answer was good enough.
“You’re going to be okay,” Vincent told her. He smoothed down her hair—it was a mess. “It was scary, but it’s over. How about you head into the living room and find something to calm you down? Mal and I will get the pizzas in the oven, and it’ll be dinner time before you know it.”
“Okay,” Nikki said in a hollow voice.
“That’s my girl,” Vincent said with a smile. “You’re handling it like a warrior. Leah would be proud… I know that I am.”
Nikki’s downcast expression brightened, just as Vincent thought it might. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, for real.” Vincent nodded toward the living room. “It takes guts to be able to stop crying after something bad happens, but you did it… and now you’re smiling. I think Leah would be inspired by your courage.”
“I’m going to go practice being strong,” Nikki announced to the room at large. She swept forward, hugged Vincent’s leg tightly, then bounded off for the living room and its hidden adventures.
When she was out of the room, Vincent let his shoulders sag. A sigh had wedged itself in his lungs, and he dislodged it as quietly as he could. To his surprise, a hand met his back. Mal, who stood at his side, rubbed reassuring circles between his shoulder blades.
“It gets better,” Mal said. He brushed the errant shred of mozzarella from his hair. “I know how frightening it is, and how tough it is to hold yourself together when things get hairy. You did a great job.”
Melissa had never praised Vincent for his parenting. She’d roll her eyes, or argue, or inform him that if he kept making mistakes, she’d have to enroll him in parenting classes, because she couldn’t handle his incompetence. Every attack had deflated Vincent’s spirits and left him uncertain of himself as a father, and to hear Mal speak positively about his choices now…
Vincent’s not-quite-cardiac-arrhythmia returned, and this time, it took his breath away.
“Thank you.” Vincent swallowed, hoping that words better suited to the emotional intensity of the moment would arrive on his tongue by divine grace alone, but they never did. There was a facet to Mal—the quiet, kindhearted side of him—that was beautiful beyond anything Vincent could hope to articulate. It was the feeling he got when he saw Mal interact with Nikki so organically, and the love that flooded his heart to see the man he cared about take to Vincent’s child like she was his own.
In all the ways Vincent craved to mark Mal, Mal had made his mark back. In little more than an hour, Mal had claimed his stake in Nikki’s heart and Vincent’s home. There was no rift, no discord, no strangeness. Mal fit into their lives like he’d always been there—and like he always would be.
“Are we going to put the pizzas in the oven?” Mal asked, snapping Vincent out of his thoughts. He’d collected the fallen bag from the floor and set it on the counter. “I think once Nikki gets over her fright, she’ll rebel if we don’t have food ready.”
“Yeah,” Vincent said. His eyes were on Mal, stuck, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
And in a way, he couldn’t.
In the man beside him, he’d found more than just attraction. Mal had opened his heart to Vincent and to Nikki—had let them in without a second thought, even though he’d disclosed that he’d been hurt in vile ways before. His trust, his honesty, and his compassion inspired Vincent.
