Page 31 of Playboy Husband

CALLUM

As always, I woke up before the sun, my body clock refusing to let me have just one damn lazy morning. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and mentally cursing myself for being awake when I realized the sky was only just starting to turn slightly gray outside.

I groaned and looked away from the window, spotting Brody coming down the stairs.

Wearing dinosaur pajamas, his hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions like he’d wrestled his pillow—and lost—and he stopped walking when he saw me, little head cocking as if he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming.

“Callum?” His voice was still rough, eyes blinking hard like he thought I might disappear. “Why are you sleeping on our couch?”

I chuckled. “Good morning to you too, kid. How about I make a pot of coffee before I start answering life’s big questions?”

He gave me a long look, suspicious but curious, and then shrugged. “Okay. Can I have some water? Mom says I’m not old enough for coffee yet.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll never start drinking the stuff.” I stretched my arms out above my head before I stood. “If you’d like something warm, I think I might be able to manage some hot cocoa.”

He pulled a face at me. “Too sweet.”

“Water it is,” I said. “I thought kids loved sweet stuff, though.”

“Not this kid.”

“Smart,” I joked. “Right, I remember now. More fries instead of dessert. You’re like me.”

He followed me into the kitchen, moving quietly for someone his age, like he was used to being the only one awake at this hour. That thought tugged at me. It was something else we had in common.

I found the coffee, got the pot going, poured him some water, and opened the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah. Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“Not without a mix,” I admitted, going over to the pantry and checking, but he was crap out of luck. “Sorry, man.”

He sighed dramatically. “Maybe Grandma knows how to make them.”

“Maybe she does.” Michelle probably did, but she was also still asleep. “How about scrambled eggs and toast in the meantime?”

His face brightened up immediately. “Yeah, I can help. I know how to mix the eggs.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” After grabbing everything we needed, I cracked the eggs into a bowl and slid it toward him. He hopped onto a chair, grabbed the whisk like he knew exactly what he was doing, and went to town.

“Guess what?” he said, glancing over at me. “I scored two goals at soccer during break last week.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” I said, pulling a skillet from the cabinet. “I didn’t know you played soccer too.”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “I like it, but hockey looks cooler. I like it more.”

The revelation hit me square in the chest, but I kept my tone even. “Yeah? I’m with you on that one. Hockey’s a lot of fun. It’s hard work too, though.”

“I don’t mind hard work.” He paused to lick a bit of egg off his finger that had splattered out of the bowl, pulling a face as he swallowed. “Wow, that’s gross.”

I laughed. “That’s why we usually cook it before we eat it.”

While I melted some butter in the pan, he kept right on chattering. “Math is way easier than English. English is the worst.”

“Really?” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Why?”

“Because it’s dumb that we need, like, a million different words to say the same thing. Math makes sense. It’s just numbers. You either get it right or you don’t.”

I grinned. “You take after your mom, then. She’s always loved numbers too.”

His chest puffed up a little, making it clear that he was proud of her. “Yeah. She helps me with my homework. I like that, but Grandma makes me read out loud and I hate it.”

I poured the eggs into the pan, absently nodding my agreement. “I used to hate reading out loud too.”

When I glanced at him, I realized that his eyes had lit up. “Did you?”

“Oh yeah. English was my worst subject all through school.” I flipped the eggs around with the spatula. “Math, though? Science? That was more my speed. I mean, getting to make volcanoes and having them erupt? Yes, please.”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in his chair. “Same. You’re pretty cool, Callum.”

Despite honestly thinking that I’d never want kids, I had to admit that this was nice. “So are you, buddy.”

I set a plate of toast and eggs in front of him, adding a glass of orange juice before I grabbed some food for myself.

Brody dug in immediately, but he didn’t stop talking.

Crumbs clung to the corners of his mouth and dropped to his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice as he told me about his best friend, a volcano project they’d just started in science, and outlined the plot of some movie he wanted to see.

After I’d finished eating, I added another batch of eggs to the pan so Maisie and her mom could have some when they woke up, all the while just listening to him telling me about everything and anything.

Standing there in her kitchen with his chatter filling the air, I realized I was glad this wouldn’t be a one-off morning.

I wanted more of this. More waking up early with Brody, more of making breakfast and listening to him go on about school, and sports, and all the other things that mattered to him.

The kid was sharp. He had a quick mind, and even though he was only seven, he seemed to understand a lot more than he let on. Leaning back, he watched me cook more eggs and chewed his last bite of toast thoughtfully.

“What’s it like having so many brothers?” he asked. “At dinner the other night, it looked like fun.”

I froze for a second. “It is fun. Sometimes. But honestly, it depends on the day. Some days, it’s amazing.

Loud. Chaotic. All of us talking over each other like we’re trying to take over the world.

” After hesitating, I admitted the other part.

The part I didn’t talk about often. “Other days, I still feel really alone.”

He blinked at me, his small brow furrowing. “How can you feel alone when you have all of them?”

I shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s fine, but every once in a while, it hits me that we’re not actually the same people. You know? We’ve all got our own lives, and our own strengths and weaknesses. Just like everybody else. Growing up together didn’t change that.”

He leaned his elbows on the counter, his voice suddenly soft and crisp. “All the guys on my new team think you’re my dad.”

My heart slammed to a momentary stop, tripping over itself before it started racing. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” he said with this weird, matter-of-fact confidence. “They’ve all assumed that you are.”

I laughed, but the sound was a little breathless. Maisie hadn’t talked to him about getting married yet and there was no way I would do it without her, but this did give me a unique opportunity to feel him out a little bit.

“Is that so?” I said casually. “How do you feel about that?”

Brody’s features were knitted with caution, but I could’ve sworn I saw a tiny little light in his eyes. “I don’t mind. Do you?”

“I don’t mind at all, bud.” Something even loosened in my chest at the thought of it.

If he was already accepting his friends thinking I was his dad, maybe it wouldn’t be such an issue when he found out I was about to be his stepfather.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering, would it be okay with you if I started spending more time here? With you and your mom?”

He practically jumped onto the counter in excitement, his face lighting up like Disneyland at night. “Yes! Really? You can. Can you?”

I grinned, a lot more relieved than I’d thought I might be. “Yeah. I think I can.”

He whooped and clapped his hands. By the time breakfast was done, he was bouncing off the walls, obviously ready to get up and get going. I laughed and shook my head. “Alright, little man. We’ve had enough eggs and toast to power a small rocket. Are you ready to go burn some of that off?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitating. “Where are we going?”

“I was thinking maybe we could hit up the driving range, but bathroom first. Go brush your teeth and get dressed. I’ll meet you at the door.”

Brody didn’t argue, practically flying up the stairs.

I headed to the guest bathroom to do the best I could to make it look like I hadn’t slept in my clothes.

After washing my face and rummaging around the vanity, I found a few spare toothbrushes she obviously bought in bulk and saved for when they needed them.

I brushed my teeth, grabbed some deodorant from the glove compartment in my car, and scribbled a quick note to Maisie, letting her know Brody was with me and that we’d be back soon. The sun was only just starting to rise as we left the house, the streets quiet and Brody still chattering nonstop.

Enjoying the sound of his talking and the excitement that filled the car, I took in the faint pink streaks in the sky and decided that when I moved in, I’d go out of my way to do this with him as often as I could.

When we got to the driving range, he grabbed a club like he’d been doing this forever and I took one for myself before I lined up next to him.

After a few swings, he paused, looking up at me with that direct gaze that made him seem way older than his seven years. “Callum? Do you like your dad?”

I frowned. “Sure, buddy. We haven’t always gotten along, and sometimes, I don’t like him that much, but I still love him. Why?”

He considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Mine never wanted me. Mom doesn’t talk about him, but I used to hear Grandma and Grandpa talk sometimes. They said Mom had to move away and stop diving. I don’t know who he is, but I don’t like him. Do you think that’s okay?”

My chest tightened. I doubted I was the person he should’ve been having this conversation with, but I was the one he’d chosen. Knowing I would have to tell Maisie about this later, I knelt beside him so we were eye to eye.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I said quietly. “That’s a lot for a kid to deal with. I know I can’t make that better for you, but I would like to be around. If that’s okay with you. Kind of like a dad.”

He smiled in that honest, unfiltered way only a kid could. “I’d like that.”

I felt like a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying had lifted off me. Maybe I really could be part of their world, just me, Maisie, and this awesome kid, figuring things out together, one morning at a time.