“Yeah?”
Con held there for a moment, then softly said, “Let’s try the friends thing.”
My heart leapt at the comment but then immediately fell again. I nodded in agreement even as my chest tightened. I should have been glad at Con’s shift in attitude, but all it did was disappoint me.
Because now I was the one who wanted more.
So much more.
Chapter Seventeen
Con
“Thank you for this.”
I glanced at Micah and saw a soft smile gracing his lips. His eyes were on the kids who’d run ahead of us on the trail. I found myself turning my attention to Christopher and Rory and saw what Micah was seeing.
Kids being kids.
It was something others took for granted but not me, not Micah. We knew not every kid got a childhood.
Instead of responding to Micah with words, I reached down and took his hand in mine, then pulled it to my lips so I could press a kiss to the back of it. I heard Micah let out a soft gasp. I knew I was pushing the whole friends boundary that he and I had established several days earlier but telling him he was welcome hadn’t been what I’d wanted to say. I’d wanted to tell him that I was the one who should be thanking him. I wanted to tell him that something about having him and the kids around eased something inside of me. I wanted to tell him that all the dark rage I’d been carrying around about what that fucker in the alley had done to me so many years ago was quieter now.
But I couldn’t say all that, so I could only hope he got the message I was sending through that little kiss.
We were okay.
No, we hadn’t put all the shit that had happened behind us, but it wasn’t front and center anymore, at least not for the moment, not for me. I didn’t think it was for Micah either, based on his behavior over the last few days.
He’d seemed… happy.
Yeah, happy.
I actually caught him smiling now and again when the kids said or did something funny. I’d even heard him laugh once. We’d been sitting down to dinner—something I’d started to join the little family for each night since I’d told Micah we could try the friends thing—and Rory had tried to tell a joke which she’d gotten comically wrong but her little fits of giggling had been so infectious, we’d all started laughing.
God, the man was beautiful when he laughed.
And when he smiled.
When he spoke.
Or when he just looked at me a certain way.
Hell, I was fucked. Royally fucked.
Because the friends thing really wasn’t working for me.
Just as I’d feared, I wanted more than that. I wanted the family dinner thing to be real. Every night. I wanted it every night. I wanted to hear about Christopher’s and Rory’s days and I wanted to be able to reach over and settle my hand on Micah’s as they told us. I wanted to be able to walk into a room and greet him with a scorching kiss because it had felt like a lifetime since I’d last seen him. I wanted to anticipate that moment when the kids said their good nights and went to bed because then he’d be mine.
All mine.
Yeah, I was fucked.
Completely.
I dropped our joined hands, intending to release my hold on Micah, but to my surprise, he refused to let go of my hand. I automatically tightened my grip and tried to ignore the way my heart leapt in my chest.
But the hope that he was feeling the same things I did was quickly dashed when Micah said, “Have you heard anything from your private investigator, the one trying to find Clara and Ricky?”
“Um, no, not yet,” I responded. “They’re still in the wind. But they’ll turn up at some point.”
Once I’d gotten Micah and the kids out of New York, I’d contacted my lawyers about making the offer to Clara to sign the kids over to Micah. Unfortunately, Ricky and Clara had left the piece of shit house in New Jersey, probably because Ricky had assumed Micah had told the cops about it and all the illegal activity that went on inside. Since the pair didn’t have the finances to go far, I suspected they’d be back, so I’d hired a PI to keep an eye on the place and to do whatever else was necessary to find the couple.
“I’m sorry it’s taking so long—” I began.
“No, it’s not that,” Micah said, his voice firm as he gave my hand a little tug to get my attention. “It’s not that I want us to leave this place,” he added. “I, the kids, we… we love it here… we love being with…”
I held my breath as I willed him to say it. To say that one word that would prove I wasn’t the only one feeling the rightness of all of this.