Role Playing(86)

He puttered around, cooking, until he had a tall stack on a plate in the oven, the heat of the oven’s light keeping them warm. It was now nearly nine, and he wondered if he should wake her. He had no idea what her schedule was like. Fortunately, he heard her making noises and saw the ribbon of light under the bedroom door.

“Hope you like pancakes,” he called out, with a grin.

“Let me shower really quickly first,” she called back, muffled through the door. “Then I’ll be right out. There’s maple syrup in the fridge. And some Nutella.”

“Got it.” He cleared off the dining room table, set plates and cutlery, then got the syrup and spread.

He was apparently so engrossed in it that he hadn’t noticed the crunch of wheels on the gravel driveway. He only registered the thump of heavy footsteps on the deck, his mind trying to figure out who might be there on a Monday morning, just before there was the sound of a key jiggling in a lock. The front door swung open. “Mom? You here? Whose car is . . .”

A solid-looking teenager with a shock of black hair and hints of a beard, wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt with a single pocket and a large purple W emblazoned on the front, under a navy down jacket. He looked just like the photos Aiden had been looking through. The only difference was he looked a little older, a little sturdier, and, of course, startled, his eyes going wide.

Aiden imagined he must’ve looked just as startled.

He was so intent on taking Kit in that he’d almost overlooked the man stepping in behind Kit. He looked about Aiden’s age, with the kind of whipcord leanness that you saw in some of the older guys around the Falls . . . the leathery skin, the graying stubble. The guy had a baseball cap instead of a cowboy hat, but in his jeans, heavy work boots, and thick winter coat, the guy gave off mountain man vibes.

“Hi,” Aiden said.

Kit blinked at him. “Um . . . hi?”

The bedroom door swept open, and Maggie all but sprinted out, sliding to a stop in her thick wool socks. “Kit!” She threw her arms around him, then pulled back. “I thought . . . you’re not supposed to be here till Wednesday. I was going to pick you up at the airport!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “So . . . uh, surprise?”

She released him. “You’re probably wondering . . .”

Then her words cut off as she, too, took in the guy behind Kit. Her eyes went so wide, it was like looking at a chibi version of her, distorted and overexaggerated. “Trev?”

I knew it was going to be her ex-husband. Because why wouldn’t it? He quelled inappropriate laughter. Because all this week needed, really, was getting cut out of his family, finding a woman he wanted to have a future with, and then meeting her son and her son’s dickhead father at the same time.

Wonderful.

“Pancakes?” he offered, deciding to go the “everything’s cool” route and be polite. “I made a bunch, but I can mix up more batter pretty quick if you’re hungry.”

“We had breakfast,” Kit said, turning his full attention on Aiden. “Who are you?”

Aiden stepped over, holding his hand out. “Aiden Bishop.”

“Aiden.” Kit shook his hand, suppressing a grin and shooting an assessing look at Maggie. “The healer?”

“Um . . . yes?” Aiden tried for a grin, even though this felt really uncomfortable. “In our Blood Saga guild.”

“And you’re here, making pancakes.” Trev’s voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t low either, and it certainly wasn’t cheerful.

Aiden tried to parse what the guy was trying to say. He didn’t sound thrilled. He couldn’t possibly be jealous, could he? From everything Maggie had told him, the man had been no happier in the marriage than she’d been. Was it simply a matter of a favorite toy—if he couldn’t have her, nobody else should? Or had he never moved on? She had said she’d kicked him out.

In the short time his brain processed the scene, Maggie’s dark eyes gleamed and her chin jutted forward. “What are you doing here, Trev?”

“I picked up Kit at the airport.” Trev shrugged. “He told me he was coming in early, and I told him I was planning on being in town for the week. His flight was really early, so we grabbed a sunrise breakfast, and then I drove him back.”

The look of betrayal on Maggie’s face was heartbreaking. She looked at Kit. “You told him? When did you talk to him?”

“We’ve been talking for a month or two,” Kit admitted quickly. “I meant to”

“I wanted to talk to him again,” Trev cut in. “He’s a grown man now, Mags. He doesn’t need your permission to talk to me.”

“You’re making it sound like I stopped you from talking to him.” Maggie’s hackles were raised. “You could’ve called any time in the past five fucking years. Don’t make me the villain in this little redemption story.”

Trev sighed. “I didn’t mean to . . . damn it, Maggie. I just wanted to get to know my son. Is that so much of a problem?”

Kit, Aiden noticed, looked hideously uncomfortable. “It’s okay, Mom,” Kit said. “I mean, I hung up on him the first few times he called, and then I yelled at him. But it’s been better.”

Maggie sent a look over to Aiden, one filled with pain, confusion, loss. He was at her side before he could consciously think about it, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze.