Love Rekindled (Love Surfaced) (13 page)

Cayden tells me and I type it in my phone, then text him so he has mine.

“Message me your schedule and we’ll work out a time. When are cuts?”

“Three weeks.”

“Okay. Don’t sweat it. We’ll get you there.” I clasp him on the shoulder again. “I’m really sorry about Greg, Cayden. He was a great guy.” I repeat what I’d said, unable to form words that express my sincerity.

“Yeah, he was. Thank you, Brad.” His eyes light up and a smile crosses my lips at how happy my agreement made the kid.

“Sure. Text me tonight and we’ll get a time down.” I back step to my truck as the kid rushes back inside to the warmth of the building.

Pressing my voicemail key, the first thing I hear is Emerson’s screaming. It’s Mrs. Allen.

“Hi, Brad. This is Mrs. Allen. Emerson has a fever and I can’t seem to get a hold of Taylor. I can’t have her here with the other kids. I’ll wait for a minute, and then I guess I’ll call Sam.”

I click off to not listen to the message anymore. Like fuck she’s calling Sam.

The phone rings as I jog the last steps to my car, climbing in, and starting it up. Finally, after numerous rings, she picks up.

“Hello, Brad. No worries, I called Sam and he’s on his way.”

Bile rises my throat. I guess when she says a minute, she means sixty seconds.

“No, no. I’m coming.” I look at the clock, realizing I’m more than an hour away. “Can you just keep her there for like an hour?”

“An hour?” Her voice shrills. “I’m sorry, I can’t. The other children. We’ll just have Sam come, and then you two can meet up.”

I have no choice. The lady won’t budge as much as I wish she would. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll get a hold of Taylor.”

We say our good-byes and I can’t dial Taylor’s number fast enough. While I wait for her to answer, my anger brews more intense. I hate this vulnerable feeling. The protectiveness that she’s my daughter pores through me and quickly my vision narrows into one line. I’m her father, not Sam.

“Hi,” she answers.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Hi, Brad.”

“Taylor. Where have you been?”

I repeat my question in the same accusative voice.

“I’m working. If this is about Em, I know. Sorry, she shouldn’t have bothered you.”

My anger boils, spilling out everywhere.

“No, she should have. I’m her goddamn father. Fuck, Taylor.”

I hear her suck in her breath over the receiver, and I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t calm me.

“What is wrong, Brad?” she asks, and I hear the receiver muffle as she talks to someone else. “Okay, sorry. I’m going outside.”

The sliding doors of the hospital alert me she’s outside. “What’s wrong? How about the fact that some guy is picking up my daughter. Or that you said she shouldn’t have bothered me. She’s mine, Taylor.”

“And mine, Brad. And it isn’t some guy. It’s Sam. The guy she’s known—”

She stops herself and I’m thankful, because I might just throw my phone out the window of my truck, which is currently going seventy-five miles per hour.

“Don’t say it, Taylor,” I seethe.

“I wasn’t going to. She’s sick, Brad. I know you were going to the University to talk to Coach Kass. I was only apologizing because I didn’t want her to interrupt you.” Her voice lowers, and I wonder if she has someone around her.

“The fact that you think I wouldn’t want to be bothered that my daughter is sick pisses me off, Taylor. Straight up. I can’t believe you would say that.” I inhale another breath, considering the thought that’s been lingering in my head the past few days. The same thought Dylan told me to hold off on and not mention to Taylor. But I can’t sit back and not have any control over it anymore. Still Dylan’s voice,
‘Give it awhile. It’s only been a week
,’ rings in my mind, but I can’t wait any longer.

“I want custody,” I rush out, my voice much calmer than before.

Silence seeps over the line, but I hear her breathing.

“Brad, we need to talk more,” she says, but I’m shaking my head, even though she can’t see me.

“No, we don’t. Taylor, I really hope things work out between us, and I want you both in my future, but I need to know Emerson will always be.” My heart breaks because I’m sure I’m shattering Taylor again, but I can’t idly sit back and let another man take care of my daughter.

“Let’s just talk about it, work it out between us. It’s only been a short time, Brad.”

I pull over on the side of the highway, needing to calm down.

“I don’t like him around her.”

Another long pause of silence on the other end.

“Please, Brad. We can handle this together.”

I’m surprised on how even keeled my voice is when I open my mouth to respond.

“I need an answer to a question, Taylor.” My car rattles as another truck breezes by. I take her silence as a sign to keep going. “Would you have ever sought me out and told me about her?”

She gasps, and I don’t think I’m going to get an answer from her.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“God, Brad. Can we please not do this over the phone?” I hear how upset she is, but all rationality I have is slipping away from me.

The thought of Sam having my daughter is like fifty knives stabbing me. “Tell Sam I’ll meet him at the house. I’ll be there when you get out of work. We’ll talk then.” I hang up, unable to hear the bullshit she’s spouting. She was never going tell me I had a daughter, but she’s mistaken if she thinks I’m going to let Sam try to slide into my spot. I’ve missed two years, and I’m not missing anymore, even if I have to pay through the nose in attorney fees.

Taylor

UNABLE TO IDLY SIT BY
while a brawl breaks out at my house between Sam and Brad, I beg Dr. James to let me go early. Lucky for me, he’s in a real good mood and we’ve slowed down dramatically in the past hour. There’s only an hour left in my shift, so Olivia agrees to cover my patients.

I park alongside Sam’s truck in the driveway. Inhaling the deepest breath, I climb out of my beat-up car and walk through the back door. Em isn’t anywhere, and the two men are sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching television. What in the world could I have missed?

“Hi,” I announce myself, approaching the back of the couch.

Sam’s eyes light up and Brad’s roll.

“She’s sleeping,” Sam says, moving to stand. My guess isn’t to leave. He circles around the end of the couch to meet me. Leaning over, he kisses my cheek, and I draw back, questioning why he would do that. “Welcome home.”

“Jesus,” Brad whispers under his breath. He stands and his hurt eyes find mine, bringing a ripple of guilt. “I guess we’ll talk later, so you can have quality time with lover boy.” He moves over to the door, grabbing his coat from the hook.

The words stay locked in my throat because I can’t have the conversation in front of Sam. I’ve already hurt him so much, but I’ve hurt Brad too. I’m stuck in a lose-lose situation.

“Are you leaving?” I step forward, closer to him, but Sam follows.

“Yeah. We’ll talk another time.” He slides his arms through his jacket and then peers down at me, his caramel eyes swimming with defeat. “Can I have her a night? Take her to my parents?”

Sam coughs out, “Yeah right.” I look over my shoulder, scolding him with my eyes.

“Brad,” I sigh, moving closer to him.

“Can I talk to you outside then?” he says. Not waiting for me to answer, he swings the door open and steps out to stand on my front stoop.

“Stay here,” I instruct Sam as though he’s my dog. Why not treat him like one, he’s peeing a circle around me and Em.

I zip my coat back up and follow him outside.

My feet barely hit the snow-dusted concrete before Brad starts talking, “Taylor, I’m sorry for earlier. I acted rash. I was just thrown off.” He shakes his head, drops his gaze but instantly picks it back up, his eyes locking with mine. “But I want time with her.”

I nod, knowing I’d have to share her, but it doesn’t make it any easier. My nose tickles and I fear with all the emotions stirring inside me, I’m going to declare every fear and hope I have and dump it for him to deal with.

“Okay, but she’s never been away from home.”

“I’ll only be at my parents’. They live an hour away.”

We never got to that step in our relationship where one meets the parents. I imagine they’re wealthy, poised, and caring people. Complete opposite from my family.

“It’s hard for me, Brad. That’s asking a lot.”

“Asking a lot? You didn’t tell me I had a daughter for two years, and I’m asking for one night. You’re refusing?”

I exhale a breath in a slow stream, delaying my answer. “I didn’t refuse.”

“You didn’t say yes either.” He steps closer to me, the familiar scent of his cologne invading my senses. “This isn’t up for debate. I want her for a night.”

I hold my hands up, his heaving chest giving off heat. I quickly remove them before I lose all willpower. “Okay, okay. I’m off the next two days. That’s when I really get to spend time with her. Would you mind if I came with?”

He backs up, stares up at the star-lined sky, and his chest rises and falls. “That defeats the point. I want to take care of her by myself.”

My hand brushes his arm and he jolts, finally peering down at me. “Maybe we could talk too?” His sadness about our situation is stirring something within me, something that’s telling me to give us an honest chance, at least for Em’s sake.

“Okay.” His shoulders fall and his eyes burn with something other than sadness now. It’s desire, and it’s pointed right toward me. A small smile creeps the corners of his lips and my stomach flips. Suddenly, we’re back where we were two years ago and he’s kissing me goodbye outside my door. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

My hand falls to my stomach, relieved we’re back to where we were before Mrs. Allen’s call, or at least, he’s acting like we are. I’ll take either at this point.

My body shakes from the cold wind whipping around us. Brad pulls me into him and my hands easily slide around his back. His lips drop a kiss on the top of my head. Comforting and safe. Brad’s the only one able to bring those feelings from me.

“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper into his jacket, half hoping the wind gust will carry my confession away.

“I don’t want to.” His arms tighten around me and warmth spreads to the pit of my stomach. “But I won’t sit in the same room as that douche.”

I draw back, and his hands cup my cheeks.

“He’s helped me so much. Can’t you guys just try to get along?” The fight inside of me to keep them both in my life shows and his hands drop to his sides.

“He told me you two were ‘together’.” He puts up air quotes.

I blink, processing the information. I take full responsibility that lines might have been blurred between us, but I always stayed on my side. He’s my sister’s husband, and I would never see him as anything but that.

“That’s not true.” I swallow down the anger. “I swear—”

His finger presses against my lips. “I know.” There isn’t a sign on his face that tells me he believes otherwise.

“Now, I need you to go.” My fingers grab his jacket by the fistfuls to hold him in front of me. “I have to talk to Sam. I thought I had cleared this up a few nights ago, but I’m guessing I didn’t.”

“I’ll wait out here.” I should have expected nothing less.

“No. We’re going to take this night away from one another. Then you’re picking Em and me up first thing in the morning, and we’ll go to your parents’ for the weekend.” I smile and a slow grin spreads across his face.

“Okay.” His head slowly nods and his eyes focus in on my lips for a second.

My tongue snakes out of reflex and his breathing becomes shallow. Unable to hold back, I rise on my tiptoes and lightly press my lips to his. Not wanting to allow it to go any further, I fall back on my heels. He blinks, those caramel eyes glimmering like he’s a thirteen-year-old boy who’d just had his first kiss.

“I’ll be here at nine,” he says. “She can nap on the way.”

My stomach somersaults because he already knows my—our daughter’s schedule.

“We’ll be waiting.”

His blazing eyes studies mine, and his hand slowly rises, grazing my cheek as his thumb swipes back and forth. “Good night, Taylor.”

My body shivers as I watch his retreating back round the corner of the house toward his car. He never looks back, and I wait for his truck to pull out, wishing it were coming, not leaving.

After he reverses, he waits on the street. He motions for me to go inside, and I nod, remembering he likes to make sure I’m safely inside before he leaves.

When I open the door and step in, Sam is relaxed on my couch, his legs outstretched on top of my coffee table. I’ve seen him in this position plenty of times and it’s never brought up the clenching sensation in my stomach it does right now.

“We need to talk,” I say, and break the distance between us.

His legs swing down and his elbows rest on his knees. He expected this conversation, which is evident when his head falls between his shoulders before I say anything. “Why are you giving him another shot?”

The distress is clear on his face, and I could smother myself for being the one who put us in this position. I should have never leaned on him as much as I did. I should have kept some distance between us, especially since he really isn’t family, what with my sister leaving him for some jackoff, who could score her more drugs.