Page 114 of Branded (Breakers Hockey)
Forty-Three
Cas
She was asleep. Finally.
I couldn’t take the anguish in her eyes, hated that Lake had been the one to cause it and hated even more that I couldn’t blame the annoying fucker for having brought it—literally—to Jules’s doorstep.
But I would have hated even more if she’d heard it from someone else.
Her father was dying.
Had apparently been doing it for a while—and was doing it painfully.
Good.
What he’d done to Jules—the asshole deserved it.
But my woman, my love, my heart didn’t deserve another hurt, and despite all her father had done—and, more importantly, all the fucker hadn’t done—there was a part of Jules who still loved her father, who wished that someday things might turn out differently.
I hoped to fuck that her father would get that.
Because I didn’t want to kick a dying man’s ass.
Christ.
I bit back a sigh, but Ethan, the smart, kind, sensitive boy who was the son of my heart, sensed it anyway.
“Cas?” he whispered. “You okay?”
And that small act of care had my heart squeezing tightly.
Even now, Ethan was kind. Even after the flurry of actions that had been packing for an unexpected trip and buying plane tickets and me getting the okay from Coach to miss a couple of games (and with the back office—not that I thought they’d have a problem with it because family came first with the Breakers, even when the need to see to mine came up at a busy point in the season).
“Yeah, bud.”
Ethan was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Is my other grandpa nice?”
Well, that was a question and a half. As thus, I focused on the easier part of the question to address. “Your other grandpa?”
“Yup,” Ethan said, hugging the stuffed avocado he’d become attached to for some reason. “Because I have Grandpa Ace and then I have my other grandpa.”
“Joe,” I said, knowing at least that much.
“Yup.” Ethan nodded. “I have Grandpa Ace and Grandpa Joe.” A beat. “So is Grandpa Joe nice?”
The first part of that settled deep and warm in my heart.
The second wasn’t so easy.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “I haven’t met him before.”
“Oh.” Silence for a few beats before Ethan whispered, “I hope he is.”
I sure as shit hoped so, too.
“Cas?”
“Yeah, bud?” I replied again.
“Are you going to be my dad forever?”
I froze, every muscle in my body going taut. Now talk about a question and a half. Silently, carefully, I inhaled, then just as silently, just as carefully, I released it. “Am I your dad now?” I asked softly.
“Yup.”
No hesitation.
No delay.
Just a pop on his p, accompanied by a vigorous nod.
Then Ethan went on. “You help me with my homework and tuck me into bed and watch movies with me and you showed me how to use the toaster. And we play hockey together and you drive me to school and pick me up sometimes and you watch me while Mom works.” His shoulders lifted and fell on a shrug.
“That’s what dads do. So, yup”—another pop—“you’re my dad right now. ”
I had spent the last couple of days fending off female sniffles and tears as Jules prepped to move, but fuck if I wasn’t one second away from losing it right there on the plane.
But I didn’t want what Ethan had just given me to get lost in that emotion.
“I love you, bud,” I said, slipping my arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “I’m glad I can do that stuff with you, and I will always do them with you, will always love you. Whether you call me Dad or not.”
A frown between Ethan’s brows. “But I can still call you Dad, right?”
“Absolutely.”
We could talk more about names and biology later.
But right then, Ethan needed a dad.
And right then, I needed to be a dad.
A dad fighting back sniffles again when Ethan looked up at me, smiled his mom’s smile, bright shining out of eyes that were just like his mom’s. “I love you, too.”
I cleared my throat, held Ethan closer. “And you know that Nonna JoJo and Grandpa Ace and Aunties Margot and Kathy and Uncles Tim and Sam do, too?”
“Yup.” A pop. “And I love them and Smitty and Raph and Theo and Mary and Hazel and Beth and Pru and—” He broke off, wrinkling his nose. “And Pru and Marcel’s babies are kind of scrunchy and cry a lot, but Mom says they’ll be fun when they get a little older, so I love them, too.”
Then, while I was reeling from all that bright, all that love a little boy felt, was cocooned in, and was thanking whoever was in the sky above that I’d had a small part in bringing that to Ethan and Jules, Ethan smiled, hugged his avocado, curled in, and fell asleep on my other shoulder.
And I knew.
Knew it would all be okay.
No matter what happened when the plane landed.
Because I would make it okay.