Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(9)
Of course I have to look like this when he shows up. No bra. Grass-stained knees. Messy hair that smells like cake because it’s full of dry shampoo. Dark circles under my eyes that match the old-ass blue sweater I threw on this morning.
I suppose the win is that today I don’t reek of scotch.
Small fucking victories.
Still, I refuse to cower in his presence. I shimmy my shoulders and stand taller, crossing my arms and tipping my nose up like I’m the queen of something more than this partially updated craftsman and a semi-successful small-town restaurant.
I watch them. Rhys has Milo in his arms, the small boy nestled against his side with his tiny head resting on a massive shoulder.
It should be cute.
Instead, it makes my stomach clench and pulse as though my heart has dropped right down into the pit of it.
My only hope in hell with this entire shit show was to make Rhys see that Milo loves me, and his grandparents, and this town. And that we all love him too. Erika may not be here anymore, but Milo is well loved.
And yet, only a fool could witness the tender way this man rests his cheek against Milo’s, taking a deep whiff of the little boy’s hair before letting his eyes flutter shut, and still think he doesn’t love him in some way too.
“Missed you, little man,” he grumbles gruffly before lifting his head to meet my watery eyes. Then he nods in my direction. “Tabitha.”
“Tabby Cat!” Milo wiggles in Rhys’s arms before reaching for me, signaling he wants to be let down. But Rhys looks shaken somehow. His eyes narrow on me, and his nostrils flare and contract. Like a bull about to charge.
“I wanna go down,” Milo clarifies. “Show you my caterpillar!”
Rhys gently places him down on the sidewalk, eyes not straying from mine as his powerful body unfurls.
Milo takes him by the hand and tugs him in my direction. My heart rate accelerates as they approach.
“Right here.” Milo points at the bug’s yellow and black body, and I stand as still as the tree as he regurgitates the information I just shared with him about the species. It’s only made more adorable by the confidence with which he mispronounces things.
“Aunty Tabby Cat and I love flowers,” he finishes with a thoughtful nod before turning his attention back to the caterpillar.
“Tabby Cat?” Rhys asks.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Long-standing nickname.”
His eyes skitter across me, searching my face from beneath his heavy brow as though I’m incredibly suspicious in some way, and I quickly drop his gaze. This guy is one big nerve-wracking mindfuck. My nose prickles and I glance away, skin crawling under the weight of his gaze, heart pounding like it might beat right out of my chest. I don’t know why it feels like my worthiness of being around Milo is being assessed right now, but it does.
And I swear Milo must sense my discomfort, because one of his arms reaches back to wrap around my thigh in an absent-minded side hug.
My nephew may find nothing strange about this meeting, but I do. So I steer the conversation back to the issue at hand, keeping things vague. “So what brings you here unexpectedly?” I ask, before dropping my voice and adding in a saccharine tone, “Other than enjoying kicking people while they’re down.”
The tendon in Rhys’s jaw flexes, and he rolls his eyes.
Irritating him feels like success, so I take it as a win and carry on. “I was assuming I’d hear a response to my invite before you showed up.”
“I needed to see the situation for myself.”
I scoff, threading my fingers through Milo’s thick hair as though that will help set my nerves at ease. “The situation is—” I stop short from eviscerating him with my words when Milo turns and presses an absent kiss to my thigh. He’s always been snuggly and affectionate, and I’ve always soaked up that aspect of him.
I peer back up at Rhys, only to see him staring at the spot on my jeans. His eyes linger where pudgy fingers tap happily against denim, as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“The situation is…” My words come out gently, but my glare expresses how I feel about him. He’s an intruder. An interloper. Someone who doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to me and the lengths I’ll go to protect the people I love. “That Milo will be heading to my parents’ place right away. And then I have a meeting. In fact, it’s one you may want to sit in on since you fancy yourself so intrinsic to this entire situation.”
Milo turns and looks up at us. “I get to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house?”
Rhys’s head flips in his direction, and his body language shows his discomfort. His massive biceps cross, and he seems to rock from side to side.
I force a smile as I ignore him and focus on my nephew. “You know it. Sleep over too, since I work tonight. I’ll be there in the morning to get you.”
“Will you bring chocolate croissants?” The way he pronounces croissants usually cracks me up, but today it just makes me sad.
I’d taken him to the bistro this morning to have them fresh out of the oven. I watched him lick his fingers with such enjoyment and spent the whole time thinking how gutted I’d be to never get to see him gobble up my baking again. The little noises he makes when he’s enjoying something. The way his eyes go extra round when he asks for another one.
It had almost moved me to tears, except West Belmont rolled in all smiles and chuckles and talking about his dorky bowling team, which provided the perfect distraction to keep myself together.