He grinned. Whether it was from the blush staining my cheeks or my obvious discomfiture with his earlier compliment, I couldn’t tell.
“Ready?” he asked with a lifted brow once I zipped my suitcase and it was approaching the time for the funeral. I held Mason in my arms, dressed in sweet little baby slacks and a black polo shirt.
“No,” I murmured honestly, feeling tears prick the back of my eyes again. “But it’s time to go.”
He nodded, reaching for my hand. His grip was warm and firm as it enveloped mine.
I knew I could have done this alone. But I had to admit knowing he’d be there—that he’d sit beside me while I said good-bye to the one person who’d been my constant in a childhood full of volatility—it calmed something it me.
****
“I’ll follow you home,” Cal stated firmly.
It was later that evening as we stood in short-term parking of the Reno airport. It was a relief to be home. Mason was asleep in my arms after what could only be called a very long day. Hell, that didn’t even cover it.
After my Gran’s funeral, where my sister barely responded to me and wouldn’t let the kids spend more time with me, we’d caught an evening flight. I was an emotional, exhausted mess and if Cal kept being so damn supportive I was about to completely fall apart.
“You don’t have to do that,” I argued, despite knowing it was useless.
“Baby, stop being a pain in the ass,” he growled. “Let’s hit it.” He cocked his head toward my car.
I’d never known how stubborn I could be until Cal. The man made me want to stand in the parking lot for another twenty minutes just to be contrary. But I wouldn’t do that to Mason; my poor baby was wrung out.
“Fine,” I gritted out, opening the back door and putting Mason in his car seat. “Thank you again,” I managed, once he was strapped in. I was frustrated and tired, but Cal had been with us for two days straight and without him, I had to admit, I didn’t know how I would have gotten through.
He’d sat by my side, the picture of supportive stoicism, throughout Gran’s funeral. He’d held Mason without question when he got squirmy. He’s been a partner and a friend, something I’d never known until recent months when the Knights and their women had entered my life.
With Cal it was something different. Something special. Something I couldn’t explore just then.
“You’re welcome.” He nodded. “You feel okay to drive?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Well, not fine,” I amended at the skeptical look in his eye. “But fine to drive. As for everything else, I will be.”
“Yeah, babe. You will,” he agreed.
His lone headlight shining in my rearview on the drive home was unnervingly reassuring.
When we pulled up to my parking garage his bike continued rumbling off down the road. After everything we’d been through the last few days, his simple two-fingered salute felt painfully inadequate and yet wholly appropriate for the man he was.
I watched him go, trying to fight the urge to overthink everything. When it came to Cal it felt as though all I did was fight my instincts. But no amount of willpower could push back the question that haunted me as I got Mason and me inside, and for the rest of that night and even followed me into sleep.
When would I see him again?
Chapter 5
It was a few days later that I sat in my lawyer’s office, hoping for some good news for a change.
“We can’t find him, Jill.”
Well, that was the opposite of good news, now wasn’t it?
I stared at my lawyer, trying to process what he’d said, hoping like hell I’d heard him wrong. “What the hell do you mean you can’tfindhim?”
Patrick Lewis was a good lawyer and a decent man. He’d come highly recommended and I was sure that once Tim was remotely willing to cooperate, he’d be able to get my terms met. Tim, my bastard ex-husband, had been dodging paperwork for months, refusing to grant me my divorce. Now it sounded like he’d up and disappeared.
All I wanted in the world was to be free of him. To know my son was free of him.
Patrick was shaking his head in frustration. “It looks like he’s moved out of the apartment and resigned from his job. He’s a ghost.”
