“Nothing so far.” He stacked one of the soft blocks on Curtis’s head, and the boy shrieked with laughter when the block fell off.
“I’m guessing we walked into the hornet’s nest?” Betty asked, peering at him through the bifocal lenses she kept on a chain around her neck. “I thought I was going to have to rescue Curtis before they jumped on you.”
“I thought you were proposing?” his mother asked, continuing to unpack as if their conversation was nothing out of the ordinary.
“I did.” He sighed, placing the block on Curtis’s head again. No matter how bad his day was, his son’s giggle was as bright as the Texas sun.
They both turned then, regarding him curiously.
“Turned me down before I could get down on one knee and ask properly.” He shrugged.
“She’s lovely,” his mother pointed out. “All tall and willowy.”
Shanna had been petite, with dark hair and light brown eyes—the exact opposite of Renata.
“She’s beautiful.” There was no point denying it. “Beautiful. Funny.” He shook his head. “And stubborn. Too damn stubborn.”
“Language,” Betty chimed. “What reason did she give you?”
“Something about settling versus marrying for love and how she’s capable of doing this on her own.” He swallowed. “Like I said, stubborn.”
The mothers were staring at him then.
“Do you?” his mother asked.
“Do I what?” he asked. “Love her? How can I love someone I don’t even know?”
Betty clucked her tongue. “Well, dear, you knew her well enough to hop into bed and—”
“I get it.” He held his hands up. They’d hopped, eagerly, and enjoyed every minute of that long, cold night wrapped up in each other.
“Maybe in time?” Betty offered. “Not everyone gets struck with a lightning bolt, after all.”
Lightning bolts weren’t their problem. Those they had in spades. “Maybe.” He didn’t hold out much hope. He wasn’t sure his heart would ever heal enough to let someone else in. Or if he’d be brave enough to try again. Losing Shanna... It had almost destroyed him.
And Renata? It was only a matter of time before some man came along and fell head over heels for her. She’d get exactly what she wanted. Hell, what she deserved. So why did it rub him the wrong way to think about it?
Because his child’s welfare would be affected, that’s why.
“She said you were co-parenting.” Betty tapped her chin again. “What does that mean?”
“It means they take turns, I think.” His mother glanced his way. “Doesn’t it? Sharing big decisions, that sort of thing?”
“You got me.” He had no idea. She’d been acting like it was common knowledge. It wasn’t. Raising Curtis on his own hadn’t been a choice. And now, when he had the choice, he wouldn’t choose to go it alone again.
“That’s bad?” Betty asked.
“It’s not good.” He watched Curtis toddle across the room to his bag. He reached in, pulled out a few board books and carried them back to his blanket. “It’s not what’s best.”
“Marrying her is best?” His mother pushed the drawer shut.
“Of course it is.” He frowned at her, stacking up Curtis’s soft blocks into a tower. “What’s wrong with wanting to give my children a real family? To b
e there, day in and day out, through fevers and losing teeth and skinned knees and potty training?” Curtis was watching him, so he did the best he could to calm down. “All good, little man.”
Curtis smiled and knocked the blocks wide.
“I wish life were that simple for me, Curtis,” he said, running a hand over Curtis’s silky-soft curls.