He was part of the process now.
Just the idea of it had him antsy in his seat as he drove silently, leaving Cassie to whatever thoughts she was having. She’d been distracted from before they’d entered the store and hadn’t come out of it yet. While he wanted to know what she was thinking, he recognized the inappropriateness of querying her on it. Her life, her business, was hers.
He was in charge of Alan’s crib. Peter was probably grinning down at him from his presumably blessed place in the sky.
Because his brother would know, as Wood did, that his son would be sleeping in the best crib a guy could make.
And it hit him. Alan Peter. Peter Alan.
He liked the name.
But he hadn’t suggested it.
He was just the crib maker.
Pulling into the parking lot, Wood stopped by Cassie’s car. He’d already suggested dinner before they’d left the store. She’d regretfully declined, saying she had to work. The regret had been stated, but also, he thought, discernible. She’d have liked to accept his invitation.
He liked that.
And hoped her distraction was due to whatever case awaited her. Not to the conversation they’d sort of had before going into the store.
“Back to what we were talking about earlier,” she started, not reaching for the door handle that would release her from the truck.
He wasn’t surprised she seemed to have read his mind. They were surfing along the same wavelengths at the moment.
“I’m thinking it would be good if we both wrote down a list of what we’d like to see happen in the future,” she said. “A list of expectations, like you mentioned.”
He hadn’t mentioned a list. And, at the moment, wished he’d kept his mouth shut in general, now that he had a job to do.
“Because you’re right, we do need some kind of definition,” she continued. “Boundaries, at least.”
He nodded. Boundaries. A good word. Denoting safety. Something he could adhere to that would prevent disaster. “You make the list,” he told her. “I’ll
abide by it.”
“How can you say that when you have no idea what will be on it?”
He shrugged. “You say you know me. Well, I figure I know you, too, and I’m confident that whatever you ask will be appropriate. Now get your beautiful butt out of my truck so I can focus on crib building.”
“I need more, Wood,” her gaze had darkened.
He stared at her.
“I need you to make a list, too. Your life...it plays a key part in all of this, and I can’t speak for you. Or to it. I don’t want to be blindsided down the road. More importantly, I won’t allow my son to be.”
She had a point.
“I meant what I said about wanting Alan to have a chance to know you,” she said. “I talked about it with my mom this weekend... I took her to the cemetery, and we actually sat together on the beach after that, had the best talk we’ve ever had about my dad...”
Damn. The woman had a way of making him feel good.
“My father added so much to my life. And now that I’ve met you and see what a great guy you are and know that you want to know Alan, how could I deny my son the opportunity to have that kind of opportunity, as well? Mom came to the same conclusion even before I expressed my thoughts aloud.”
Funny how a parent’s approval still had the ability to add validation when he’d been without any since he was seventeen. Not that he was seeking permission for anything. Just...added perspective, from one who’d been around a few decades longer than he had, was nice.
“And we have to figure in, at least in the moment, that I’m finding myself really, really attracted to you,” Cassie added, with added tension in her voice. In the tightness of her lips.
Figure in? You didn’t figure that in. You ignored it. Moved on.