true.”
She had what appeared to be a death grip on her pen. If it had been a pencil, he would have expected it to snap in half by now. He wanted to walk across the room, place his hand over hers and give it a squeeze. Remind her that they were in this together, the way they had been all along.
Well, as much as possible.
But the rules were clear. No physical contact. Maybe someday they could reach the point when a squeeze of a hand or a tap on the shoulder would be seen as no more than a gesture of support, but right now, there was too much else floating between them to risk it.
“We’ve done the hardest part already,” she said softly. “Figuring out support and custody. I mean, we’ll each need the legal eagles to give it their pricey approval, but as long as we’re in agreement, it should be smooth sailing.” She hesitated. “Unless, of course, you want to make any changes.”
“No. I’m good. Kate, we both know that there won’t be any every-other-weekend thing with us. Jamie’s life will be here, with you.”
She pulled the pen in close to her chest. It was almost like she was guarding it. Or cradling it?
Her actions perplexed him. Shouldn’t she be happy about this? He knew all too well how it felt to be traded from home to home. That wasn’t what he wanted for Jamie. He had no intention of swooping in like the Big Bad Wolf and disrupting their lives.
And yet Kate maintained her death grip on the pen.
“Is that a problem?”
She said nothing. Which worried him more than anything she could have said, because he had never known Kate to be at a loss for words.
“Hmm? Oh, no. No. I just thought... I mean, I want him here with me. Obviously. But I don’t want him to miss out.” She took a deep breath. “It’s fine.”
Boone might not be a family man, but that didn’t mean he was clueless when it came to family dynamics. On the contrary. He had learned fast and early how to read a situation and know when someone was telling the truth and when they were lying through their teeth—or through a smile. He didn’t always know what to do about it, but he could tell when there was a problem.
And right now, every instinct he had was telling him Kate was most certainly not fine.
I don’t want him to miss out.
“Kate.” Again, he stopped himself from reaching for her hand. “If we want any chance of making this work, we have to be honest. Even when we think the other person won’t like what we have to say.” He spread his palms wide open. “Cards on the table, okay?”
She stared at his hands. Silently. Like she was weighing her options. Which surprised him, because it all seemed pretty straightforward to him.
Then she said in a rush, “I want him to know that you want him.”
Her words sent him rocking back in his chair. Or was it the way she’d said it—low and desperate, like she wasn’t sure she had the right to ask but needed to anyway?
Did she think he didn’t love his son?
“Kate.” The hell with restrictions. He left the chair to kneel in front of her, tipping her chin up with one finger, steeling himself against the flood of remembered pleasure at the brief brush of skin on skin. “Kate, I know that what I feel for Jamie doesn’t come close to what you have with him, and it never will. I’m okay with that. But don’t ever doubt for a minute... I mean, it’s true I don’t know a lot about babies, and I’m still terrified I’ll do something wrong and hurt him.”
Some of the worry in her face was pushed aside by a slight smile. “I hate to burst your bubble, but I already figured that out.”
Ah. There was the Kate he knew.
He let his hand drop back down to his side. “We got caught by surprise. Things are more complicated than either of us expected. But complicated can still be amazing.”
“And wanted?”
“Wanted. And very much loved.”
This time, when she ducked her head, he was pretty sure it was to hold back the flash of moisture he saw in her eyes.
“I want to know Jamie.” If he had to spell it out, he would. “I want to talk to him as much as he would like, and come here to hang out with him every year, and maybe, soon, start having him spend some time in Peru. With you, of course,” he said when her head snapped up. “But I’m okay with leaving the details of when we take each step kind of fluid.”
“Fluid.” She said the word slowly, as if trying it on for size. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. I see what you mean. As long as we both agree on what the next step should be, I’m good with leaving the timing loose.”
Down on the floor, Jamie grabbed a squeaky toy and smashed it on the blanket.
“Rock on, dude.” Boone cocked his head toward the baby but spoke to Kate. “Maybe he’ll be a drummer.”
“Oh, no. No wishing drums on him when you’ll be on another continent.” She reached behind her, grabbed a paper and squinted at it. “Okay, since His Highness is still happy down there, let’s talk about some things we haven’t covered yet. Like guardians.” She frowned before looking at him. “Right now, I have Allie listed. It made the most sense, since she’s here and he knows her. But do you want to leave it that way? Or if something were to happen to me...”
Boone’s mind went blank. He couldn’t help it. The thought of Kate not being alive drove all capacity for thought from his mind.
“Would you want to...” She carried on, totally oblivious that parts of him had frozen at the thought of her dying. “I mean, I think it would be easier on Jamie if he were to stay with people and places he knows, but you’re his father. It would be up to you.”
Oh, God. She expected him to answer.
The floor was hard against his knee as he pushed back upright. The chair was solid beneath him as he sat down once more, the wood of the armrests smooth and slightly warm against his palms as he gripped them.
He could handle this. If she had the guts to sit there and calmly talk about what would happen if she were to die, then surely he could manage something coherent.
“I...uh...I haven’t thought about that.” Start with the facts. Buy himself time. “I, uh, need to think about it, but my feeling is, yeah. Having Allie take over would undoubtedly be easiest on Jamie. As long as she’s okay with me still being in the picture.”
Kate smirked. “There’s a reason I asked her and not my mother, and let me give you a hint—it had nothing to do with age.”
Damn, it felt good to laugh. The tightness in his chest eased and lightness filled him.
“But while we’re on the subject,” she said, “we probably should think about what we would like to do when and if either of us remarries.”
“That’s not going to happen.” The words were out of his mouth before he processed them. He wasn’t even sure who he was talking about. Him, definitely. But her?
