The Real Baxter (The Baxter Chronicles 1)

“Of course,” I replied distractedly.

“Did you hear they’re getting married?” Oliver slipped out of my hold, flashing an unbridled megawatt grin.

“I did.”

“It’s so cool,” Ollie enthused, oblivious to the echo of unease flittering through the room.

Or maybe he did notice it, because he was still talking and that wasn’t like him. Something about an impromptu skateboard session that turned into a pizza party, homework he finished on time, and yes, he’d gotten plenty of sleep at Charlie’s. In short, my kid cued all the parental questions I was supposed to have asked and somehow managed to gloss over the weirdness of finding a stranger nursing toast and coffee at my kitchen island early on a random weekday morning.

Don’t worry…I was a modern-day Houdini when it came to getting myself out of tight spots. Observe the master at work.…

“Good for you. Hey, shower up and get ready for school. I was just saying good-bye to Trent. He wanted to go over some security logistics, but I think we’re done.” I smiled at my confused audience and then…for reasons I couldn’t quite explain, added, “Trent’s my new bodyguard.”

Silence.

“Bodyguard?” Charlie repeated, setting his cup on the island and crossing his arms. “Since when do you need secret service detail?”

“I didn’t say—”

“Why do you need a bodyguard?” Ollie intercepted. “Did something happen? Are you okay? Is that why you didn’t answer your phone? You should have called, Dad.”

Okay, maybe not Houdini.

I paced a few feet away and raised one hand in surrender. “Whoa. Everything is fine. I’m sorry I missed your message. My phone was off. A bodyguard is a preventative measure, not a secret service detail. I’m traveling to Europe in a few weeks and in light of recent international unrest, I figured it was a wise choice.”

Charlie narrowed his gaze. “You’re going to Europe?”

I nodded. “London specifically. Trent here has a vast knowledge of the UK, so he’s a natural candidate. Right, Trent?”

To his credit, he stayed in character—no hesitation, no awkward pause. Trent twisted his lips in a vague approximation of a smile, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Right. Keep me posted. Or should I just send that contact info to your secretary?”

“That would be great.”

“Excellent.” He turned to Ollie and Char. “It was nice to meet you. I apologize for the early morning interruption. I’ll show myself out.”

After another round of good-byes, Trent was gone.

It felt wrong to let him go like that. I wanted to run after him, say a proper adios and maybe stick my tongue down his throat one last time. But I couldn’t do that without calling undue attention…and it was time to let him go.

I stared into space for a moment, content with the silence, though I knew it wouldn’t last.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Ollie asked, shaking me back to reality.

“Wrong? No. Why?”

“Hello. Bodyguard?”

I smiled. “I’m positive.”

He exchanged a look with his brother and shrugged. “Okay. I’m going to take a shower.”

I gave a thumbs-up and steeled myself to deal with Charlie.

The fact that he hadn’t said much did not bode well for me. Unlike Ollie, Charlie was a talker.

“I’ll take Ol to school, so you—”

“Hold up.” Charlie set his hands on his hips and rounded the island, stopping directly in front of me. He was a good seven inches shorter, but just then, we might as well have been the same height.

I hated that I’d probably have to pull the parent card and remind Char of a few nonnegotiable boundaries. Gray was so good at keeping peace without raising his voice. I was not.

But of course, Gray wasn’t here and all of this BS was kind of his fault anyway. Fuck. Why couldn’t things be easy…or at least less complicated?

I sighed heavily, pushed my fingers through my hair, and prayed I wouldn’t make a mistake here.

“Charlie…”

“You said you were okay.” He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, his voice cracking when he continued. “I hoped you were telling the truth, but I knew you weren’t okay. I knew you were sad. I should have waited for you at the office. I should have come over last night. I shouldn’t have let you be alone.”

“Char…I’m fine.”

He blinked wildly, pursing his lips as if it might hold back tears. It didn’t work. A single tear fell down his cheek. He swiped at it like a child with his fist. But his proud gaze didn’t waver. “Okay.”

“Hey. Please…don’t do that. Don’t cry. Not for me.”

“I’m not crying.” He sniffled. “Okay, fine. I’m upset.”

“Do you need a hug?” I tried.

Charlie gave a watery smile. “Probably, but…I have a few things I need to get off my chest before Ollie returns.”

“O-kay…”

He pulled a paper towel from the roll near the sink and blew his nose. “I’m mad at you. I’m mad at Gray too, but I’m mostly mad at you…because it’s so clichéd and boring for a so-called mature adult to wish his parents were still together. It’s beneath me, really. And I want to blame you. I want this to be your fault. That’s ridiculous. I know it is.”