Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Congratulations, man! Uncle Jack! We need cigars, man. So it’s official. Keith has a baby. You got Keith’s baby. That’s fucking beautiful.”
“Yeah. Right? It is. It’s fucking incredible.” I was still wrapping my head around it.
“It’s amazing. And you know for sure? How does that work?”
“Took a test last week, sent it into a lab, results posted online. Just saw ’em, right now. More than ninety-nine percent positive match between us. As sure as they can get.”
“Wow. That’s…I don’t even know what. Awesome.”
“It is.” I was nodding and smiling at him. “It is awesome.” And we laughed.
“You gotta go home, man. What are you doing here? Today, you just found out, you gotta go home. Spend the day with your nephew, and his mama.” He side-eyed me with a smirk. “I know that’ll be really tough on you. Painfully hard.” And he laughed at his own fucking joke.
I punched his arm, none too gently, and agreed. I should spend the rest of the day getting to know Peter better. Even though they’d been living in my house for over a week, and Ellie and I already planned to get married—soon, I reminded myself—I still had not really allowed myself to believe that Peter was Keith’s. I had wanted to, but at the same time I didn’t. Like, it was too much to hope for.
But now it was real. It was true. And I wanted to hold him in my hands, to feel his weight, and his little body warmth. I needed to connect with him. Priority one. Everything else, for the moment, fell away.
Chapter 12
Ellie
I heard Jack’s bike pull up the drive just as I was settling down with Peter for a feeding. I had him on the big nursing pillow, and I wasn’t well covered-up, but by this time, I had no modesty about it in front of Jack. He obviously enjoyed getting the eyeful, and I’m not sure how much of that was his liking to see my exposed breasts or watching the beauty that is a baby feeding from his mother. I didn’t really care, to be honest. I knew it to be a beautiful thing, and I was glad that Jack appreciated it, too.
What was strange was that Jack would be back so early in the day. So when I heard the door open, I called out, “What did you forget?”
“Nothing. Where are you?” And he immediately saw me on the couch, and pulled up short, looking at me and Peter in a kind of wonder. I raised my brow at him, but he seemed not to notice.
After a couple of moments of nothing, I asked, “Jack? You all right? Did something happen?”
His eyes met mine, and he seemed to snap back into the now. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. I’m…” He choked up, and his eyes got watery.
And I got worried. What in the world could make this man tear up? It was something bad. “Jack? Don’t scare me like this. What happened?”
“Nothing, babe. I’m fine. Just…goddamn it…something in my eye.” He rubbed at his face. Finally, he came into the room and joined us on the couch.
“Got some news today. I checked the test, online. Results were up. Positive. We’re a match. Peter… Peter’s my nephew. Keith’s son. For sure. He’s mine.”
Now my eyes welled up, realizing what a big moment this was for Jack, for Peter, and for myself. But mostly, really, it was about Jack. And Keith. It was huge.
I had known this to be true, and I’d hoped Jack would be moved by it, too.
For a moment, I felt awkward. Keith was back in the room, in a way that made me a little bit uncomfortable. I had, after all, slept with both brothers. Gah! This was such a weird situation. What a freaking mess.
But at the same time, it was kind of perfect. It was the best possible outcome, given the worst of circumstances with regard to Keith’s fatherhood of Peter and his far-too-early death.
Of course, I never had any doubt that the test results would show a positive match, but it was an amazing load off that the question had been answered for Jack, and that he could now fully accept Peter into his life.
I now totally understood the tears that Jack had tried to hide. He was such a stereotypical badass—and such a beautiful man. I wanted to jump in his lap and just hug him for ages.
Jack, too, clearly needed to close the gap between himself and Peter. He leaned into us, putting his hand on the outside of Peter’s head, stroking his soft cranium and cheek gently and with awe.
“He’s really Keith’s son. This is my brother’s blood.” He lost words, and just gazed at the baby, who by this time was fighting the food coma, slipping between sleep and suck modes at random intervals. I figured he’d probably had enough by now, so I handed Jack a baby cloth to drape over his shoulder and said, “Petey, your uncle is going to burp you now, honey.” And I smiled at Jack as he froze in horror, all deer-in-headlights. I had to bite my tongue to hold in my laughter.