“Coop!” He squats down and pulls the little boy into his arms and I see all his fear leech from him. “You left the office. You know you’re not supposed to leave.”
“I needed pee pee.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, as if trying to regain control. “You scared the heck out of Daddy.”
Cooper’s little face pulls into a frown. “Sorry.”
“I saw him wandering around,” I explain.
Jared surprises me by pulling me into a hug. I stiffen before I relax. He smells amazing—a mix of cologne and engine oil, a smell that is uniquely Jared. I try not to melt into his arms, but it’s a difficult thing when he’s gripping onto me like a lifeline.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into my ear.
“You’re welcome,” I say back, although I sound a little dazed.
He lifts Coop into his arms, his hand going to the back of his neck as he breathes out, ruffling his hair as he does.
“Thank you,” he repeats, his eyes locked onto mine, and I swallow hard. The look he’s giving me is intense and has my stomach flipping a little. I’ve never been someone’s personal savior, but right now, that’s what he’s looking at me like.
And I wish he’d stop looking at me like that, because right now my world has narrowed to just him and me, and that’s a dangerous game—one I’m not sure either of us are ready to play.
11
Jared
Having Cooper back in my arms leaves me feeling jellied. I thought I knew fear, but there’s nothing like discovering your three-year-old kid is missing to show you the true meaning. All the war zones I’ve been in, seeing my buddy, Luke, hurt in Afghanistan… nothing compared to the sheer panic that assailed me at walking into an empty room that shouldn’t be empty.
I sit him on my chair in my office and try to calm my galloping heart. No amount of breathing this out is going to help.
“Coop, bud, you can’t just wander off like that.”
“I needed pee pee.”
I close my eyes, seeking patience. “I know, but you can’t. You made Daddy worry. Do you still need pee pee?”
His face scrunches up and he shakes his head. He’s been doing so well with his potty training, so I feel guilty I wasn’t here to help him. Most of the time he’ll make it to the potty now, but he does on occasion have accidents, so he’s still in pull-up diapers, but those accidents are getting fewer and farther between them. The kid hates going in his diaper, so my guilt at leaving him mounts.
“Okay, kid.” Pushing up from my crouch, I hold my hand out to him and he takes it. We head to the bathroom, so I can clean him up.
Juggling work and a child is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Just when I think we’re in some kind of rhythm, some kind of routine, something upends everything. I wouldn’t want to be without my son, but sometimes I wish things were easier.
I’ve just finished changing him when I hear the bell go, signaling someone is in the reception area.
When it rains, it sure as fuck pours.
I keep hold of my son as we make our way there. I’m not letting this kid out of my sight for the rest of the day—probably until he turns eighteen. I don’t care if anyone has a problem with it. My fear is enough to keep me glued to his side.
When I push into the small area, I’m surprised to see Nia at the desk. She looks a little anxious as her gaze darts between me and Cooper.
“Sorry, I uh… I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to check you’re okay.”
‘You’re okay’, not Coop. She’s worried about me. This warms my stomach in a way it shouldn’t, in a way that has guilt rolling through me.
“Yeah. I’m not running around, wind in my hair okay, but I finally stopped feeling sick.” I lift Coop onto the edge of the desk and keep my hands locked around him to stop him falling off. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t know if I said it or not. Everything is kind of a blur.”
“You said it,” she murmurs and I watch as her tongue dips out of her mouth to moisten her lips.
My cock stirs a little at the movement and I’m sure my eyes are heated. Nia is a beautiful woman, and I’m not blind to that, but acting on it is not going to happen. I won’t destroy her life the way I destroyed Robyn’s.
Internally, I shake myself, trying to ignore the pull I feel toward this woman. It’s not an easy task and it leaves me feeling terrible for even having these feelings. I shouldn’t be.
“Good. At least I wasn’t an obnoxiously rude jerk.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it. You were worried. I understand.”
I’m not sure she can understand unless she has a kid, but I don’t say this. No need to actually become obnoxious.
“Well, he’s fine, thanks to you.”
“I saw him wandering and no sign of you. I was worried.”
“Thank God you did see him. When I opened that door and he wasn’t where I left him, I lost about ten years off my life.”
“He keeps you on your toes,” she correctly surmises.
“Yeah, especially now he’s more mobile and more inquisitive. I need six pairs of eyes.”
Nia laughs at this and the sound of her laugh is divine. I want to make her do it again.
“You’ll miss this time when it’s gone,” she tells me quietly, her voice no longer full of cheer, but something darker. I don’t like it.
I want to press her about it, but Cooper chooses that moment to speak, breaking through the encroaching tension growing between us.
“Nee Nee found me.”
“She did, bud.”
“Can Nee Nee come over when we go home?”
His question catches me, and her, off guard. “Uh… Coop… Nia has things to do.”
His face scrunches up as if that doesn’t compute. “But Nee Nee helped us. You’re supposed to be thankful when people helps you.”
“I am thankful, bud.” I ruffle his hair as my gaze goes to her. “More grateful than I can say.”
She ducks her head, embarrassed maybe? I’m not sure. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I would have done the same for anyone.” She glances over her shoulder out the glass frontage. “I better get back. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am, thanks to you. My son is my world. If something had happened to him…” I break off shaking my head.
“I understand, but he’s safe and everything worked out. Try not to dwell on the what-ifs.”
She’s right. I can’t think about the what-ifs. I can’t think about anything but the fact everything turned out right in the end.
“I left a customer in the office… I need to get back, but I can’t thank you enough…”
“No thanks are necessary. I’ll see you later, Jared.”
It feels weird to have someone call me by my full name. I’m so used to being J or J-Dog, but it feels good, right even, coming from her.
“Bye, Nia.”
“Bye, Nee Nee.”
“Bye, Cooper.”
I watch as she turns and leaves, and seeing her back doesn’t feel good at all. I don’t want her walking away from me, especially not when I can see the spark of interest between us, but I’m scared to fan that ember. I’m scared of the flames that will erupt from the fire. I’m afraid to get burned again.