Silently, she pulls the scrunchie from my hair and plays with the strands at my neck for a long time.
I don’t dare speak or move. Hell, I’m barely breathing as I wait for her response.
“I—I don’t know. You’re kind of hot, so there’s that.”
“Kind of? Jeez.” I feign offense.
She’s deflecting, but I won’t call her on it.
“I am having a lot of fun with you. You’re funny and kind, and you can sing.”
“Go on…”
She chuckles. “You’re a good man, Ezra. Can we see how things go when we get back to the city?”
“Sure.” I kiss the top of her head as a seal of compromise. I want so much more, but for now, I’ll take what I can get.
The next few days are filled with lots of phone calls and paperwork and waiting. Though I work hard to hide my frustration from Kane, Millie sees it.
She does her best to support me, even making matzo ball soup using my recipe. Let’s just say she is talented in other areas of life. I appreciate having her here to vent to, especially when she talks me off the edge after Rob doesn’t answer his phone—or door—for three days. He was supposed to turn in the final paperwork, but instead, he took a trip to the Big Island and didn’t bother to tell us.
I was livid.
I barely get the car in park before I fling the door open and dart for his front door.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” he yells from his recliner in front of the TV when I storm inside.
“Me? Where the fuck have you been?”
He sets his beer to the side, right on top of the guardianship paperwork, as if it’s nothing more than a coaster.
I yank the papers, knocking the can over in the process.
“Ez—”
“Sign the goddamn papers.Now.”
“Relax, son.” He stands and lazily wanders to the kitchen, where he pulls a pen from a drawer.
Leaning over the counter, he scribbles his signature, then pops another beer from the fridge and watches as I flip through the documents, making sure he signed on each designated line.
Gathering the papers, I look him square in the eye. “You will not call Kane—or me—ever again. Do you understand?”
I turn on my heel and stomp toward the front door.
Behind me, he slams his can down on the counter, startling me. “You think you have what it takes to be a father? You think you’re so much better than me? Just because you’ve got yourself a pretty little wife?—”
I whip around and stab a finger in his direction. “Do not bring Millie into?—”
“I had a wife once.”
My gut drops. That’s news to me.
“Before your mother. Doesn’t mean shit. Guys like you and me don’t settle down. It’s not in our genes. I was just like my father, and you’re just like me.”
“I’m nothing like you.” The anger that’s coursed through me since I stepped into the house boils over. The man is delusional if he thinks misogyny is genetic. “I will be faithful and loyal to my wife. And I’ll never make my kids feel like they need to be anyone other than themselves. I came to Hawaii hoping to prove to you how wrong you are about me. So you’d stop holding this… thisthingover my head. I should have known you’d never change.”
When he doesn’t respond, I step back into the room.
