“Shoot,” Matson said as our third attempt collapsed.
“The sand’s too dry. We need more wet sand,” Ryan said with a smile, and my heart warmed at their interaction.
“I’ll get it!” Matson jumped up, bucket in hand, and ran toward the water.
I watched him closely, unwilling to tear my gaze from him until he was back with us, carrying the bucket with both hands.
Ryan peeked inside. “That looks perfect.”
“It’s so heavy,” Matson said before dropping it to the sand with a thud.
As we poured, shaped, and patted the walls, I marveled that this was my life. I never realized how alone I’d been until Ryan showed up. I’d convinced myself that Matson and I were perfectly fine, didn’t need anyone, and now I sat in the sand questioning every lie I’d told myself.
Ryan jumped up and wiped his hands on his jeans, spraying sand everywhere. When I shot him a questioning look, he nodded toward the street. Derek was standing across the street, leaning against the very truck that had been following us earlier.
So it had been him.
“Hey, bud, why don’t you go play on the playground while your mom and I go talk to someone real quick.”
Matson stopped digging and looked up at Ryan. “What about the castle?”
“We’ll finish it after.”
Matson seemed to consider Ryan’s offer, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “What if someone knocks it down?”
“Then we’ll build a new one. A better one.” Ryan smiled and extended his hand. Matson reached for it, and Ryan helped him up. “Your mom and I will be right over there.” He pointed toward the street.
“Don’t leave the playground, Matson. And make sure that I can see you at all times. If you can’t see me . . .” I paused, waiting for him to finish our safety motto.
“Then I can’t see you. I know, Mama.” He ran over to the monkey bars and started climbing.
As Ryan and I turned toward Derek, I thought he might get in his truck and leave. Maybe he only wanted us to see him watching, I hoped.
But he did the exact opposite. Derek stalked across the street toward us, walking through oncoming traffic without even looking. Horns honked, brakes squealed, but he didn’t stop.
I wanted to get closer to Derek before he reached us, needing to keep space between him and Matson, but Derek’s pace was quicker than ours, his steps hurried. He reached us first.
“Isn’t this cute? You two playing house now? With my son.” He looked right at Matson, who was fortunately not paying attention.
“What do you want, Derek?” I demanded, and Ryan pulled me to his side, his grip tight on my waist as
he asked Derek, “Why are you here?”
Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Ryan? If anyone doesn’t belong in this picture, it’s you.”
My eyes flew open wide. “No, Derek. You don’t belong here.”
“I’m his dad. Of course I belong here.”
“Then where have you been the last eight years?” I fired back, stepping away from Ryan’s protective hold and into Derek’s personal space. “You might be his biological father, but you’re not his dad.”
“You think I’m going to let this kind of person raise my son? A fucking bartender?” He spat out the last word like it was laced with poison.
“I actually own the bar,” Ryan said calmly, sounding almost bored, and his reluctance to engage pushed Derek’s buttons more.
“You think I don’t know that?” Derek rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know every single thing about your brothers and their girlfriends?”
I gasped, wishing it had been internal instead of out loud. Derek always enjoyed getting a reaction out of me.