He stood there for a moment, hands clenched inside his pockets, fighting the urge to knock again, to demand better for Cody. But what could he do? The system was the system. Patterson probably wasn’t breaking laws. He was feeding the kid, housing him, technically meeting his obligations. The fact that he was treating Cody like an inconvenient obligation rather than a human being wasn’t technically abuse. Still, it was wrong. Cody deserved better.
Roan walked back to his SUV and sat in the driver’s seat for a few seconds, engine off, staring at the house. A light went on upstairs in what might be Cody’s room. A small window, probably a bedroom he shared with another kid. Maybe two.
Cody was just trying to stay out of the way. Making himself invisible. Trying to survive until he aged out and could escape. What kind of future lay ahead for this kid? Did Cody even dare let himself dream of a better life? One filled with purpose and love?
And what about Marcus? No place to live? Avoiding the system like the plague?
Roan knew what it was like to look into the future and see nothing but a wall of blackness, nothingness. No way out. No way in. But he'd had Jason. Even when he'd accepted that giving Reese her freedom was better for her, even when his heart was broken, he'd had his twin—the one person who would always have his back.
Who had Cody’s back? The answer was obvious. No one. The thought came suddenly, almost like a voice in his ear.What if you could? What if you took them? Wouldn’t they be better off with you than anyone?
Roan shook his head, started the engine. That was crazy. What was he thinking? He didn't know anything about parenting or how to maneuver through the foster program. He'd just gotten back to town. He was barely managing to give himself a fresh start, let alone a hurting teenager.
But as he pulled out of the driveway, the thought lingered. What if he could make it happen? The idea felt right despite all the practical roadblocks. For now, he'd keep it to himself. He didn't need anyone to tell him how risky this would be. He already knew. And yet, a spark of hope settled in his chest. What if he could do something that mattered? Wasn't that the man he wanted to be?
The man his mother had thought he was. The man he desperately wanted to be for Reese. To prove to himself and her that he was a good, reliable person. A man to build a life with.
Saturday morning, Roan was at the gym by nine. He did deadlifts, pull-ups, and the rowing machine, pushing his body until his muscles screamed for mercy. Physical exhaustion usually cleared his head, but not today. By eleven, he'd showered, changed, and tried to focus on regular Saturday tasks—grocery shopping, laundry, answering emails from potential gym clients.
But his mind kept spinning in loops. Cody in that house, being told to stay out of the way. Marcus with everything he owned in a backpack. The thought that had come to him last night: What if he took them in?
And underneath it all, threading through every thought was Reese.
He couldn't stop thinking about her or dreaming about her or wanting her. The more time he spent with her, the more sure he was that he was still in love with her. He'd never stopped. Fifteen years, several failed relationships, thousands of miles, and his heart still belonged to Reese Monroe.
The question was what to do about it. And that's where things got complicated, because the two thoughts—fostering the boys and winning back Reese—had tangled together in his mind until he couldn't separate them anymore.
If he brought Cody and Marcus into his life, what would Reese think? Would she see it as proof that he'd changed? That he was no longer the scared eighteen-year-old who'd run from responsibility? Or would it scare her away? A single guy taking in two traumatized teenagers, barely back in town, still figuring out his own life, might seem ludicrous to her. And maybe it was.
Worse, though? The question that made his stomach twist with shame—was he thinking about fostering these boys to impress her? The thought made him feel sick. Using kids as some kind of grand gesture to prove himself worthy? That would make him worse than Patterson. At least Patterson was honest about his motivations. But if Roan was doing this to win back a woman, what did that say about him?
He dropped his head into his hands, elbows on the kitchen table. Was he really that selfish? That calculating?
But even as the shame burned through him, he knew it wasn't that simple. Because when he thought about Cody in that house, or Marcus sleeping God knows where, his chest actually ached. When he'd watched Cody climb that rope the other day, determination on his face despite everything life had thrown at him, Roan had wanted to protect him and offer him a place where he didn't have to “stay out of the way.” Where he could just be himself, loved and safe.
And quiet, sweet Marcus who gobbled down pizza like he didn't know where his next meal was coming from? Didn’t he deserve better than a backpack and other people's couches?
So maybe it was both. Maybe he genuinely wanted to help these boys and wanted to prove to Reese that he wasn't that messed up kid he’d been when he left. Maybe those things didn't have to be mutually exclusive.
He rubbed his face, exhausted by his own circular thinking.
The truth was, he'd come home for her. The gym next to her studio wasn't coincidence. The Bridge Program wasn't just about helping kids. Every decision he'd made since leaving California had been leading him back to her. And now, was this idea of fostering just another step in that journey toward her? Or was it its own thing?
He thought about his mother. What would she say? She'd probably tell him to stop overthinking and just do the rightthing. He could almost hear her voice saying that intentions mattered, but actions mattered more. If he wanted to help these boys, he should help them, period. And if he wanted Reese, he should tell her, period. Stop being a coward.
Working with the kids this week had shown him something. Marcus, living out of a backpack, still showed up every day. Julia, facing impossible choices, still believed in a future for her baby. Emma, despite her father’s terrible behavior, still danced.. Cody, abandoned by everyone who should've protected him, had climbed halfway up that rope. They were all so brave. If they could face their fears, so could he.
The question wasn't whether fostering the boys would help his chances with Reese. The question was whether it was the right thing to do. And the answer to that was yes. Complicated motivations and all, those boys needed someone. And he could be that someone.
As for Reese? Well, that was a separate problem. He wanted her back. Not as a friend. Not as a co-mentor for these kids. He wanted her to be his person. He wanted to be the one she wanted and needed. The one who made her dreams come true. He wanted to build a life with her.
But he couldn't use the boys as a way to get there. That would be wrong on every level. No, if he fostered Cody and Marcus, it had to be because they needed him and because he wanted to be the one person who they could rely upon. And if he pursued Reese, it had to be separate from that. He had to be honest with himself—and her. He loved her. And he was finally ready to fight for what he wanted instead of running away.
What would she think of that? What would she think of fostering the boys, his intentions, his still-beating hope that maybe, somehow, she could forgive him? Before he could answer any of those questions, Jason came into the kitchenfrom the garage, carrying several shopping bags, with already wrapped presents inside.
“Ho, ho, ho. Santa’s here.” Jason set his bags on the island.
“I hope Santa knows what a good boy I’ve been this year.”
