Prologue
JESSE
Trip 213.
The odd-numbered ones are always my favorite. The trips where I crank the classic rock as loud as my truck’s speakers can handle and grin like a fool until my face hurts.
It’s been thirteen days since I’ve seen my little man. Thirteen days that have fucking sucked in comparison to the two I get to spend with him every other weekend. Those forty-eight hours are the highlight of my weeks, and truth be told, I live every day without Jett just so we can have ones like this.
I don’t mind the drive.
I don’t care that I’ve put a shit ton of miles on my truck running back and forth between his mom’s house and mine.
I don’t give a damn that our visitation arrangement means I have to abandon my crew every other Friday afternoon, sometimes in the middle of a big job.
Nothing matters more than my boy and nothing ever will.
Having a kid was never part of the plan.
But four years later, he’s my only plan.
Just twenty-seven more miles to go.
Chapter 1
HAYDEN
In just a few minutes, my heart will drive away in a Chevy truck.
It happens like clockwork every other Friday night, and there’s nothing I can do but step back and watch it happen.
“Can I bring this?” From his dump truck-style bed, Jett plays with his new Matchbox car while I tuck his stuffed caterpillar, ironically named John Deere, into his weekend bag.
“Of course, you can, sweet pea.” Smiling softly, I pray the tears that already sting in my eyes will hold off until he’s gone.
“Thank you, Mama.” He launches himself into my arms and I melt, burying my face in his mess of golden hair. He smells like cinnamon and sunshine, and I’m not embarrassed to admit that, in the next forty-eight hours, I’ll come into this room at least a dozen times just to breathe him in.
“You’re welcome, baby. I hope you have the best time this weekend.” I press a kiss to his temple, but he pushes away with a dramatic gasp.
“Squishing me,” he wheezes, and I roll my eyes. Where the heck did my little snuggle bug go?
“I’m not going to see you for two whole days, Jett Alexander. I need hugs.” My plea is met with a cool side-eye.
“Daddy here yet?”
A heavy sigh deflates my chest. “Anytime now, baby.”
“You wanna come, too?” His light blue eyes widen at the thought and I grin, because despite the ache in my chest, his innocence is precious. He truly has no idea how difficult these Friday nights are for me or how complicated I made our lives, months before he was even born.
“Nah, honey, you know this time is just for you and Daddy. So you can do all the fun things together, like go fishing and four-wheeling.” And whatever else they do up in Cole Creek, where Jett leads a completely separate life than this one here with me in Green Bay.
“Daddy will like my car. Vroom!” Another bright grin slashes across his little face as he drives the toy toward the stairs on an imaginary road in the air.
Oh, to be as carefree about all of this as he is. Maybe someday.
“Hey, you okay?” My fiancé Lane appears in the door, wiping his sweaty face with a towel before tossing it over his shoulder. His basketball shorts and sleeveless T-shirt are almost as damp as the dark hair stuck to his forehead.
“I will be.” After a glass or two of wine. “How was your workout?”
“Great. If I would’ve remembered Jett was leaving today, I would’ve waited. We could have worked out together.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“Oh, you would have, huh?” I chuckle, but seriously, how could he forget that today was Friday? These exchanges gut me and he just forgets? “You’re kind of ridiculous.”
“Yeah, well, you’re hot.” He prowls into the bedroom and tugs me close, his hands in ten different places at once. “I’m looking forward to having you alone for a couple of days.”
I wrinkle up my nose when his lips find the side of my neck. “As fun as that sounds, you smell awful right now.”
He snorts. “You’re right. I’m ripe as hell. How about I grab a shower while you do the swap? When he’s gone, we’ll make plans for the night.”
“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” Beyond getting me naked, that is.
“Not sure yet. I’ll think about it while I shower. You could always join me when he leaves.” He takes another playful nip at my neck and jumps back before I can swat at him.
“Go!” Biting back a laugh, I point toward our bedroom down the hall. “I need to get downstairs before Jett sees himself off.”
Lane backtracks to the door, chuckling. “Fine, but the offer still stands.”
Good Lord, it’s like his horny switch flips every time Jett goes to Jesse’s. He thinks he’s funny—and sometimes he is—but more often than not, his indifference is disheartening. How he can think about getting laid when all I’m going to want to do is curl up and cry?
“Daddy’s here!” Jett shrieks from the first floor and, just like that, my stomach drops to my toes.
Lane winks. “You got this, gorgeous.”
I know I do. But that doesn’t mean I have to like any part of it.
When he turns away, I paste on my game face and chink my armor firmly into place, just like I do every other Friday. I also send up a prayer for extra grace this week, because these exchanges seem to be getting harder and harder. I’m not sure why, but I feel the unease creeping in a little more with every swap.
“Mama, come on!” Jett yells again, and I pull in a deep breath. Shoulders back, girlfriend.
I make it halfway down the stairs when my son yanks the front door open and launches himself at the brick wall of a man standing on the other side.
Big arms wrap around our little boy and lift him from the floor, while my lungs hold every ounce of air in my body hostage.
My son adores his father. Of that, I am absolutely certain. And when aquamarine eyes, the exact same color as Jett’s meet mine over the top of our little boy’s head, I realize that no matter how hard I try to prepare myself, this will never get easier.
“Daddy, stop!” Giggles fill the foyer as Jesse growls and adds a shake to the bear hug.
“How you doing, little man?” He drops a kiss to Jett’s wild hair, the blond of which he got from me and the mess from Jesse. The dimples in his cheeks, the cleft in his chin, and, of course, those gorgeous eyes are all Jesse, too. Not that I’m complaining.
Instead of answering the question, Jett shoves his toy toward Jesse’s dark stubbled jaw. “Look at my car!”
“Dang, son.” Jesse dodges the collision and takes the shiny red toy, giving it an obligatory once-over. “Pretty cool wheels. Looks just like Lane’s car, doesn’t it?”
“Uh huh. It goes fast!”
“Probably not as fast as my truck, though, right?” He winks and Jett giggles all over again.
I bite back a smile and finally step down into the foyer, duffel clutched in my hands. I try not to notice the way Jesse’s shoulders fill out every bit of his black Henley, or the way the muscles in his arms flex while he holds our son tight. I can’t see them, but I know that, beneath the snug cotton, one forearm is tattooed with dark ink while the other is bare. Both are thick and sexy and, once upon a time, they were my guilty pleasure.