Page 70 of Dr. Stone

“What are you doing?” Andie’s voice came from the doorway, half amused, half horrified.

Brandon clung to her, still crying, while I looked like a deranged kidnapper with her dog in a sack.

“The dog’s gonna give himself a heart attack,” I grumbled. “I’m just trying to keep him from stroking out.”

“So you’re going to suffocate him?” she teased, coming closer.

“He’s alive and well, trust me,” I said, letting her take the pillowcase.

Duke immediately curled up on her lap, playing the mistreated victim. Fucking actor.

And then something I hadn’t expected happened—Brandon reached for me.

Andie hesitated, but when she let me take him, the little guy rested his head on my shoulder. Baby powder and innocence filled my senses, melting something I didn’t know I had in me.

Kids weren’t my thing. I didn’t hate them, but I wasn’t the “pick one up and rock it” type either. Yet here I was, with a toddler nestled against me, feeling… good. Rewarded, even.

“He doesn’t do that with just anyone,” Andie said softly. Her eyes warmed as she watched her son snuggle into me. “He likes you.”

“At least one of your little dudes does,” I chuckled. “C’mon, buddy, let’s get you resettled.”

“He’ll need a story,” she warned. “Or he won’t sleep.”

“I’ve got it, Mama,” I said, already bouncing him like I knew what the hell I was doing. “Books in his room?”

“Yeah, or the living room.”

So maybe my cock got cockblocked tonight—but this? This hit different. Something deeper than sex, something I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted.

I’d never pictured myself with kids, but Brandon had me wrapped around his little finger. Rocking him in his airplane-themed nursery, searching for a rhyme book after my night got hijacked by a dog from hell, I was…happy. Weirdly, unexpectedly happy.

“All right, little man,” I murmured, settling into the rocking chair, his big eyes studying me like I was on trial. At least he wasn’t as aggressive as his furry brother. “I have no idea where your books are,” I muttered, scanning the spotless nursery.

Then I froze. Antique airplanes decorated the shelves, the same kind I’d had in my room as a kid.

I chuckled. “No way. You’ve got the same thing I did. My dad flew, my mom sailed—he passed the sky down to my brother, she passed the sea down to me. Guess I’m a product of compromise.”

Funny thing was, I’d never known if my parents were happy or just functional. Business partners more than lovers. But they’d made it work.

And maybe that was the point. After what Andie had been through with the asshole who’d left her and Brandon, maybe “functional” wasn’t enough. She deserved better.

And maybe—maybe—I could give it to her.

Scrolling my phone for something to read, I thought about how she wasn’t dazzled by my last name or lifestyle. She just wanted real. And that? That I could do.

Because I wasn’t my parents. Andie wasn’t going to get some hollow version of love from me.

Not when I was already falling into something I swore I’d never want.

THIRTY-TWO

Andie

I stoodin the doorway of Brandon’s room, watching the man I never meant to love rocking my son back to sleep. Jace read softly, holding Brandon close, like the space his father left behind had always been waiting for him.

My heart was melting at the sight of them, and when I realized Jace was reading to Brandon from a medical article on his phone—of all things—I had to stifle a laugh.

“…The procedure reduced operative mortality by thirty-six percent, using a hybrid approach combining transcatheter valve replacement with direct visualization through a limited thoracotomy.” He glanced down at Brandon. “It’s the first successful trial with patients under forty,” he said excitedly, prompting Brandon to giggle in response.