“Pizza?” I raise my eyebrow at her. That definitely wasn’t what I’d told her to get for Oliver’s dinner.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. There was no way I was going to eat something made with a pea tortilla and macadamia cheese and I wasn’t subjecting that sweet child to it either. I mean, really, Carson?Macadamia Cheesethat’s an affront to the cheese gods. It’s got to at least be a crime of some sort.”
“So, you’re saying you’re a bit of a cheese lover?”
“You should see my fridge, I’m pretty sure there’s more cheese in there than anything else, except maybe wine. The point is, I couldn’t in good conscience feed that to him.”
“Yeah, I hate that shit too,” I admit to her. “But it’s what all the books say he should be eating to make sure he grows up healthy.”
“Yeah, but are those books concerned about his quality of life? Because carbs and real cheese are some of the things that make life worth living.”
I let out a chuckle and prop my hip against the kitchen counter, leisurely observing Bianca standing here in my kitchen in tight jeans, a fluffy sweater that’s falling off her shoulder, and hair that’s tangled from sleep. I like her here. She feels like she belongs. “I’m doing the best I can, but one book contradicts another and another until my head is spinning.”
I can see her face soften and she looks like she’s contemplating whether she should bring something up. “Go ahead, I see you have something you want to say,” I encourage her.
She’s fidgeting a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I was just wondering how long you’ve had Oliver. He told me his mom was dead and that he didn’t have a dad. How did he end up with you?” Sighing, I rub my hand through my hair. “You don’t have to tell me, it’s really none of my business. I’m sorry I asked,” she quickly adds.
She starts to head out of the kitchen, but I stop her by placing my hand on her arm. She stills immediately and a little shiver of awareness goes through her that gives my male ego a tiny boost. I like that she’s not immune to my touch. “No, I want to tell you.” Well, I want to tell her the sanitized version anyway. She doesn’t need to hear about the really bad stuff.
“Oliver was my sister’s son. She died about six months ago and we don’t have any other family. My dad died when I was a teenager, he was a cop and was killed on the job. My mom never really recovered from his death, and it wasn’t too long until she followed after him so it was just Molly and me. But she was soyoung when everything happened and so lost that she spun out of control. I should have been there for her, but I was caught up in my own grief and getting into the LAPD. I didn’t do enough.”
“That’s not your fault, Carson.” She walks up to me and gently squeezes my hand. Just her touch gives me the strength to say the rest of it. “That’s nice of you to say, but I know I should have done a better job. She got into drugs, dropped out of high school, and the next thing I know she’d disappeared. I tried to find her, I really did. I even used my connections in the department, it was against the rules, but I didn’t care. Once those had dried up, I hired a private investigator but he couldn’t find anything either. She had completely fallen off the map.”
I suck in a breath when Bianca wraps her arms around my middle and holds me close. This is the first non-sexual physical touch she’s initiated between us. I can’t help myself and raise my hand, running my fingers through her thick, lush locks. “It got really bad,” I whisper against the top of her head. I don’t like talking about this but saying it quietly in the dim light of the night while in her arms seems to give me strength. “I worked a lot of gang and drug cases down in Los Angeles. Every time I walked into one of their trap houses or crack dens, I searched every face looking for her. You’ll never understand the competing emotions of both hoping and dreading finding her there.
“Then one day I got a phone call from up in Bakersfield, which is a shit town in the middle of nowhere. Molly died of an overdose. It took them a few days to notify me because they couldn’t find any next of kin. That’s how I got Oliver. I didn’t even realize he existed until then. She didn’t even bother to tell me I had a nephew.”
“It sounds like she was going through a lot of stuff, I’m sure it didn’t have anything to do with you. I bet if she could see howwell you’re taking care of him she would be so thankful. It’s clear he loves you.”
“You think so?” I ask quietly. Apparently, all my doubts and insecurities are coming out tonight.
“Absolutely, I could have never done for him what you have. I don’t know the first thing about kids and frankly, they aren’t exactly my favorite thing.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, I was starting to get that impression. You don’t seem like a kid person.”
“I’m definitely not.”
“Oliver seems to have taken to you though.”
“I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
“Nah, he can sense you have a big heart.”
It seems like this line of conversation is starting to make her uncomfortable, so she switches the subject. “So, what’s up with him calling you Dad now?”
I groan, thinking about the uncomfortable conversation I had with his teacher earlier. “He told me this morning that a couple of kids were picking on him because he didn’t have any parents. They said they left him because he was bad.”
Bianca lets out a gasp and pulls away from me just enough so she can look into my eyes. “Why would they say something like that?”
“Who knows? I’m learning kids can be unbearably cruel for no reason.”
There’s true anger in her eyes when she says, “Why don’t you slip me their names? I’ll make sure they never bother him again. I’ve already threatened to kill and bury the biggest hotel mogul in Seattle, what do you think I’d do to a bunch of asshole five-year-olds?”
“You told Archer Clarke you would murder him and dispose of his body?”
She just shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He hurt Hollie. I take care of the people that belong to me.”
“As a member of law enforcement, I really shouldn’t hear about your plans for murder.”