“So do I need to sign anything, or…” I ask, wanting to know how this is approved so we can move on with our night. I wipe my eyes on my shirt, and she pulls out another file. It’s smaller and less intimidating.
She pulls out a pen and clicks it, opening the folder to show one sheet of paper. “Sign on the dotted line, and he is all yours.”
“My kid shouldn’t feel like a business transaction, and this is exactly what it feels like.” I scribble my name and click the pen before laying it flat on the counter.
“Congratulations, Mr. Campbell. You’re now the legal guardian of your son.”
“Shit, I have a son. This is...”
“Insane?” she tries to finish for me.
I shake my head at the wrong word choice. “Amazing.”
The door to the game room opens, and Dillion comes out, looking unsure of where he’s at. I’ll have to give him a tour, but he looks ready for bed. He scrubs his eyes and yawns. The dark circles seem to get deeper the closer he gets to me. He’s wearing a spiderman shirt and tiny blue jeans that I wouldn’t even be able to fit my arm in. His shoes are small and when I look down at mine, I’m afraid I’ll step on him and squish him.
“Hey, little dude, what’s up?” I ask him. He still doesn’t speak, just blinks his long lashes that have me becoming more protective of him by the second. If anyone fuck’s with my kid, I’ll fucking kill them. How does this happen so fast? Why do I care so much so soon? I don’t know him.
But it’s enough that he is my blood, my flesh, and my bone. If that isn’t enough for other people, that’s their problem. I don’t need more. Today, I become a better man than I’ve been the last eight years.
I can’t think of myself anymore.
“Dillon? What is it?” Maggie leans down and asks. He huffs, and he looks like he’s about to talk, but he lifts his arms and reaches for me.
I don’t even think about it. I pick him up by his arms, and he wraps his little legs around my waist and lays his head on my shoulder.
I stop breathing. I can’t think. I’m speechless. After a second, I wrap my arms around him tight and hold his head against me. I bury my face in his shoulder and do my best not to cry, but he wants me to hold him.
Me.
A man he doesn’t know. He only knows one fact: I’m his father.
That’s it.
And I can’t imagine letting him go. Not now. Not ever.
“Well, it looks like he trusts you. That was fast,” Maggie says, getting up from her seat. “I need to head to the hotel—”
“Nonsense. We have plenty of room here, don’t we, Jaxon? She has to stay and make sure I’m not a killer for her report.”
“Only the killer of ladies.” Heaven finger guns and winks.
No one laughs.
“Wow, okay. Tough crowd. I’ll show myself out then.” Heaven drags his leg behind him and circles around the couch, plopping down on the loveseat.
“He’s already asleep,” Maggie whispers.
“Yeah?” I don’t move to look because I don’t want to wake him up.
She nods and reaches for my phone. “May I?”
“Sure.” I’m afraid she’ll see the dating app and judge, but her face is expressionless as she points the camera at us.
I don’t look into the lens. I don’t want to see the vulnerability in my eyes when I finally look at the picture.
“There. Your first picture as father and son.” She holds the phone in front of me and that damn emotion, stupid fucking beast, is clogging my throat again.
He looks like he was made to be there. He’s safe.
For as long as he is alive. He’s safe with me.
“Well, look at that, fellas. Our Grayson is a dad,” Jaxon says, staring at the picture with a big smile on his face. He slaps me on the shoulder and squeezes tight. He’s getting emotional too. “I’m damn happy for you, man. You deserve it.”
“Yeah, he’ll be happy here,” Owen says. “I’ll beat him at skee ball eventually.”
“No you won’t. I’ll kill you if you don’t let my kid win,” I grumble.
“Maggie, I’ll show you to a guest room, and I’ll have Julie make you something to eat; maybe some tea before bed?” Jaxon asks.
“Oh, that would be amazing. Thank you. So I’ll see you in the morning? This is unusual. Maybe a hotel would be best,” she tries to argue.
“He’ll be happy to see you in the morning. We are still new. Give it a few nights,” I plead. I don’t want it to sound like I’m begging, but I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. The world just dropped a kid in my lap.
I grab my phone and see a few messages from Finley. I might as well be honest with her so she knows what she’s getting into. She’s traveling. What the hell would she want with a single dad?
“I’m going to place him in my bed, and then tomorrow I want to set up the room closest to mine for him. He can pick his bedroom set and stuff.”
“He’ll love that,” Maggie says, then yawns, stretching her arms above her head.
“Goodnight, everyone.” I snatch my phone and head toward the bedroom, feeling every single set of eyes against my back as I go. I kick my door open and carefully shut it behind me, then pull back the covers with one hand. Carefully, I lower him down until his bare head is on the pillow, then I tuck him in. “I can’t believe you’re real,” I whisper to him. “Sleep well, bud.”
Me, on the other hand, I don’t think I can sleep. I lay next to him and watch his breath to make sure he’s alive.
I lay awake for the rest of the night, thinking about Dillon, but also thinking about a woman I’ve never met.
She’s kept me sleepless these last few nights, but I’ve never felt so well-rested. Finley has caused me to do the one thing I never wanted to do again.
Trust.
Chapter Eight
FINLEY
I finally caught a Greyhound to Trinidad, California.
Right as I received a message from Isaac.
IssacGray88: I’m glad your travels are going well. Listen, something big happened in the last day. I just found out I have an eight-year-old kid, and he’s sick with Leukemia. I understand if you don’t want to talk anymore, but at the end of the day, he’s the priority. I wanted to be open and honest. I didn’t want you to think I was hiding anything if we ever met.
Oh, we’re going to meet. He just has no idea how soon.
FinleyPark: Oh, wow! No, it isn’t a problem. Thank you for being honest. This must be a big shock to you. What’s he like? How sick is he? Are you happy?
I have a ton of questions. I’m not surprised a man his age has a child. I’m just wondering if he has enough room in his life for one more surprise.
“You sure you’re in the right place, lady?” the Greyhound bus driver, Agnus, asks as she opens the door for me.
“Yes, I am. Thank you so much.”
“It’s the middle of nowhere. You sure you don’t want to go to Hollywood? You’re pretty enough to make it there.”
I climb down the steps and jump to the pavement. “No, Agnus. I’m right where I need to be, thanks.” I wave goodbye and she shrugs, closing the doors, and the hydraulics hiss as the bus pulls away.