Capturing Peace

  “Ray?” I asked quietly. When she shook her head, I moved us away from the door. “No.”

  “All right then, I’ll be back once I have the scans. Techs should be in here any minute to take him back.”

  “Thank you.”

  I waited until he was out of the room and had shut the door before kissing the top of Reagan’s head again, and pulling back. “You okay?”

  Tears were still streaming down her face, but she nodded. “Yeah.”

  I tried to smile for her, but I wasn’t sure if she bought it. “See? He’s going to be fine. He’s tough. Aren’t you, bud?” I asked as I walked us closer to the bed and grabbed the hand that only had one wire coming off it.

  “Because I eat my food,” Parker slurred.

  If he didn’t currently look like shit, I would have laughed. “That’s right. Because you eat your food.”

  “Were my parents or brother here yet?” Reagan asked softly.

  “No, do you want me to go check?”

  She gripped the hand she was still holding harder. “Don’t leave,” she begged. Sitting carefully on the side of the bed, she cupped Parker’s cheek. “How do you feel, honey?”

  “Not good.”

  A pained smile tugged at her lips. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make it go away.”

  Parker nodded once just as the door opened, and the X-­ray technicians walked in. After explaining what they would be doing, and getting ready to take Parker away, he started screaming.

  “No! Please, Mommy, don’t go!”

  “I’m not going anywhere, honey, stop screaming. You’re going to make it hurt worse.”

  “Don’t make me go!”

  Reagan looked at me helplessly before looking at the techs.

  “One of you can come with him, but you’ll have to stand outside the room,” one of the techs said. “Parker, will you be okay if your mom comes and stands outside the room?”

  He groaned, but nodded.

  I squeezed her hand before releasing her. “I’ll go check to see if your brother’s here yet.”

  “Thank you,” she mouthed, and followed them out of the room.

  Walking back through the confusing halls, I made it out to the waiting room, and didn’t even have time to look for them before all three said my name. Glancing to my left, I walked toward where they were standing from their chairs, and hugged Mrs. Hudson.

  “Is he okay?” Keegan asked.

  “He’s doing fine. A little sick, scared, probably in pain. He doesn’t need stitches. They took him back for some X-­rays to make sure he didn’t crack his skull and to see if there’s swelling. Reagan went with him.”

  The three let out a collective, relieved breath. “So, he’s awake?” Mr. Hudson asked.

  “Yeah, he’d already woken up by the time I got here.”

  “Speaking of . . .” Keegan trailed off and raised an eyebrow at me.

  I shot him a confused look. “What?”

  He cleared his throat and jerked his chin toward the check-­in desk behind me. “When Mom and I got here and asked about Parker, the receptionist didn’t seem thrilled that more of his family was here. Told us to be assured Parker’s parents were with him, and one of them would let us know how Parker was doing. Then she started grumbling about Parker’s dad almost getting himself thrown out of the hospital for the way he acted.”

  “She wouldn’t tell me where he—­” I paused, and jerked my head back. “Dad?”

  “That’s what we said, she look really nervous. Said you claimed Parker was your son, and then she began describing you at the same time she called security over, probably to have him hunt you down. But when she described you . . . we told her she was correct.”

  I stood there, not seeing anything as I thought back to my conversation with the woman behind the window. Looking over my shoulder at her, air wheezed out of my lungs. “And he’s my son . . .” Facing Reagan’s family again, my face fell. “Oh my God,” I muttered, and shakily walked over to one of the chairs.

  “Are you okay?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she took the chair next to me.

  I stared down at the tile below me and just focused on pulling air into my body.

  “Steele.” I looked up to find Keegan smirking. “You doin’ okay there?”

  “I hadn’t even realized . . .” I trailed off and shook my head.

  His smirk morphed into a full-­blown smile. “I can see that.”

  I barely glanced at Mrs. Hudson to see her smiling at me with her eyes watering, before looking back at the floor. I stayed like that for minutes as I tried to figure out what had happened, and how I couldn’t have even realized what I’d been saying. I wanted to say it was because I was scared, or because I knew Reagan needed me, and the lady hadn’t been about to let me back there . . . but that wasn’t it. It hadn’t been a calculated response; it’d just been the first thing that left my lips when she tried to keep me from Parker. My Parker.

  “I need to get back there,” I said suddenly, and stood. Looking at the three of them, I tried not to notice how differently they were all watching me now. Like they knew what I’d just come to realize, and were happy.

  I was happy. I was also scared as shit.

  “I’ll let you know what the doctor says.” Turning, I walked back to the doors and waited for them to let me through.

  Reagan’s soft voice drifted out of the room, so I stopped before I got to the doorway. Taking deep breaths in, I ran my hands over my face, and hoped like hell that she wouldn’t notice a difference in me.

  “Hey.” She smiled. “I’m guessing they’re out there?”

  “Yeah, sorry it took me so long to get back.”

  She waved off the apology and looked at Parker. “Please don’t be sorry. Do you mind sitting in here with him while I go talk to my parents really quick?”

  As long as they didn’t tell her what I’d said. “Go for it.”

  “Okay, they light is still bothering him, but he needs to stay awake.” Reagan leaned up on her toes to kiss me. “Thank you for getting here so fast, Coen. I—­as soon as I got the call, I just knew I needed you. So, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Reagan.” I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her once more. “I love you. I’m always here when you need me.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered, and sent me a longing glance before walking out of the room.

  Grabbing the chair and moving it closer to the bed, I sat down and looked up at the beeping monitors.

  “Hey, Coen?”

  “Yeah, bud?” I asked, glancing down to Parker.

  “Don’t tell Mom, ’kay?”

  I bent forward to rest my elbows on the side of his bed. “Don’t tell her what?”

  “When I woke up here, I was scared because I couldn’t find you.”

  My chest tightened and a lump formed in my throat. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, bud.”

  “Mom wasn’t here either, but I looked for you.” His words were starting to slur, and I didn’t know if this was just talk because of the concussion, or if he’d actually been scared because I hadn’t been here.

  Grabbing the hand closest to me, I squeezed it gently, and looked at his drooping eyes. “I’m here now.”

  He nodded slowly and blinked heavily before widening his eyes at me. “Love you, Coen.”

  Thank God I was in a hospital, because I’m pretty sure my heart had just failed. Everything in me seized up, and my heart stuttered after missing a few beats before taking off quickly. The lump in my throat grew, and I couldn’t get it to go away. He loved me. I’d called him my son without realizing it. My Parker.

  “I love you too, Parker,” I choked out.

  All of the adrenaline from the fear of him not waking up, trying to be strong for Reagan—­even if only for a little while—­and all the
emotions that had been coursing through my body in just the last ten minutes were suddenly too much. Dropping my head onto the mattress, I let myself cry for the first time in two and a half years.

  Reagan—­October 27, 2010

  I STOOD IN the doorway of Parker’s room late that night, and watched as Coen lowered him onto his bed before tucking him under the covers. In the three and a half weeks since we’d started letting Parker know that Coen was staying the night, Coen hadn’t once put him in bed, or woken him up—­and I’m pretty sure it just became my favorite sight in the entire world.

  Coen bent down low, placing his hand on the top of Parker’s head, and whispered something against it, too low for me to hear.

  Never mind. That was my favorite sight.

  Straightening up, he gave Parker one last look before walking over to where I was waiting on him. I tried to contain the ridiculous smile I knew must have been plastered on my face, but there was no way to. I was so in love with him. I loved the way he loved me, and I loved the way he loved my son.

  Letting my fingers trail down his forearm, I pushed away from the doorway and walked over to the bed. Pressing my lips to Parker’s temple, I brushed back some of his blond hair and tried to remember him just like this. There’d been no crack on his skull, and no major swelling; the doctor had told us he’d been incredibly lucky. And I was so thankful for whoever was looking over my son.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whispered. “I love you, baby.”

  With one last kiss to his forehead, I stood and walked into Coen’s waiting arms. I inhaled sharply when he grabbed the backs of my thighs and pulled me up, but quickly wrapped my hands around his neck, and legs around his hips.

  His dark eyes stayed locked on mine as he walked us out of Parker’s bedroom and into mine—­leaving both doors open. Letting me slide down his body, his fingers went to my pants, but there was no heat in his dark eyes tonight. I stepped out of them when they pooled at my feet, and raised my arms when he began pulling my shirt over my head. Leaving my camisole on, he reached inside to unhook my bra, and worked it off before dropping it on the floor as well. Taking a step away from me, he took off his jeans and shirt, leaving himself in only his boxer briefs, and reached for my hand. He brushed his lips slowly across mine while his eyes still held mine captive—­and in them I saw everything I was feeling being reflected back on me. The fear, the craving, the love, the trust.

  Walking to the bed, he turned off the lamp, flipped back the covers, and slid in before pulling me in with him. Curling his body around mine, he pressed his lips to my shoulder as the arm under me moved so his hand was flat against my stomach, and the other moved until it was over my heart.

  No words, and yet he’d said so much. So much that I agreed with wholeheartedly.

  I was his.

  I wasn’t going anywhere.

  And I was so in love with him too.

  Chapter Eleven

  Coen—­November 1, 2010

  I WAS FROWNING by the time Saco’s wife, Olivia, was done ranting and bitching loud enough that I’d begun to wonder if she was trying to let me hear her.

  Saco groaned. “Sorry, man.”

  Waiting until I made sure I wouldn’t tell him he’d made a mistake in marrying her, I asked, “What was that about this time?”

  “She took what little savings I had after buying the house, and put it down on a brand-­new Mercedes yesterday without telling me. When she came back, she got pissed that I wasn’t happy for her and took off to her parents’ house.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to be happy about her draining our savings, and then giving us a car payment I can’t afford.” He let out a long sigh. “Anyway, that was her, just coming back from her parents’. I’d had to go out and buy formula last night so I could feed Tate.”

  I wouldn’t say it. I would. Not. Say. It. “I’m sorry, Brody.”

  “Aw, damn. You’re using my first name, I think I would rather you tell me I made a mistake.”

  “Are you a mind reader now?”

  He laughed, but it still sounded off. “Nah, I just know you. Tell me something to get my mind off her bullshit. How are you and Reagan?”

  I didn’t want to sit there and brag about my relationship when the only good thing to come from Saco’s was his son, but I knew he needed the distraction. “We’re great, to be honest. Things have . . . I don’t know. So much has changed.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “Good. Every day that passes I know more and more that I need them, and I don’t know what I would do without them. I hate that they don’t live with me, I can’t stand the fact that they aren’t my family. I don’t know how it happened, but I love that kid, and I love his mom so damn much. I want to marry her. I want to adopt—­”

  “Whoa, wait.” Saco cut me off. “What? I knew you were really into her, but didn’t the two of you just start dating a few months ago?”

  I paused and thought for a second. “No.”

  “Yeah, Steele, it’s only been a few months. I’ve been home for a little over three months, you met her after I got home.”

  My head jerked back. “Yeah, I met her the day I got out, but that was the middle of August. That was—­”

  “Two and a half months ago.” Saco was quiet while I sat there, not moving, not blinking. “So two and a half months, and you already want to marry her and adopt her son?”

  I still wasn’t saying anything. That couldn’t be right.

  “From what you’ve told me, and the stories I’ve heard from Hudson, Reagan’s incredible. But slow down, you’re twenty-­four, she’s twenty-­two . . . just let this play out for a while. Make sure this is what you want first. Make sure you want to be a dad. I know you love them, but you don’t want to make a decision now, regret it later, and break their hearts then. If it’s meant to be, then it’s not like either of you are going anywhere. So enjoy getting to know her before you marry her. You’ll have the rest of your life with her and Parker.”

  “Yeah,” I said on a breath, but I still couldn’t believe what had felt like six . . . seven months with them was only two and a half. And still I wanted them to be mine. What was it Reagan had said to me in Hudson’s apartment? “Everything’s fast with us, but fast feels right when I’m with you.” Never had truer words been spoken.

  SCANNING THROUGH THE last dozen or so shots I’d just gotten, I nodded to myself and looked up at my client. “Those are gonna look great, man. If you wanted to change one more time, go for it.”

  It was only supposed to be an hour-­long shoot, which is why I’d taken it when he called. And even though this is what I loved doing, I was glad the hour was almost up. I wanted to be with Reagan and Parker.

  I walked over and started adjusting the lights while he changed, and glanced over my shoulder when I heard the side door to my studio open. My lips stretched into a wide grin when Reagan and Parker walked in.

  Reagan’s eyes widened, and an apologetic look crossed her face when she looked around. “I didn’t know you had a shoot tonight.”

  “Last minute.” I shrugged and pulled her in to kiss her quickly before hugging Parker. “Hey, bud! How was school?”

  “It was good.” He looked past me at my client and asked loudly, “Are you going to shoot him?”

  Reagan looked horrified for all of a second before a sharp laugh burst from her chest, and it took everything in me to keep from laughing with her and my client.

  Bending down, I got close to Parker’s face and spoke softly. “Remember when I took pictures with you and your mom?” He nodded. “That’s the kind of shooting I’m doing.”

  “Oh, yeah. That was cool.”

  I smiled at him. “It was cool.”

  “Well we’ll go so you can get back to it,” Reagan said as she put a hand on Parker’s
shoulder to pull him back. “Are you coming over tonight?”

  “I planned on it,” I said each word slowly as I judged her reaction.

  “Okay, I’m exhausted from today—­”

  Disappointment quickly flooded my chest, but I refused to let her see it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She laughed and placed a hand on my chest. “I meant, I’m exhausted in that I’m just going to be ordering takeout instead of cooking. Please come over.”

  “Takeout sounds perfect, and maybe bed early and I’ll take care of you since you’re so exhausted . . .” I raised an eyebrow and she blushed.

  “Coen,” she chastised.

  “Drive safe, Duchess, I’ll see you soon.”

  After a quick light-­saber stabbing from Parker and a kiss from Reagan, they left my studio, and I just stood there staring at the door they’d walked through.

  “I didn’t know you were married.”

  I turned to look at my client and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, I’m not. That’s my girlfriend.”

  He looked over at the door, and a look crossed his face like that had explained it all. “Got it! Now I don’t feel bad thinking that kid had probably been the result of the milkman.”

  My face dropped and hands clenched into fists, but I forced myself to laugh again. “You ready to finish this?”

  “Yeah, but, Coen . . . I wouldn’t be looking out for you if I didn’t say this.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at me like he was about to deliver the worst news possible.

  I steadied myself and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for him to continue. I still hadn’t completely ruled out punching him.

  “I dated this girl for a while who had a daughter. I was cool with her kid, the girl was a total sweetheart. Next thing I know my girlfriend’s pregnant and freaking out, saying she can’t have another kid by herself. She tried so damn hard to get me to marry her before she had the baby; but that wasn’t about to happen. And thank God it didn’t. Found out after the kid was born that he wasn’t even mine. My girlfriend had to do a paternity test to find out who the father was because she had been fucking four different guys. Trying to get one of us to marry her because she wanted someone to help her raise her first kid. And she’d sworn up and down she was on the pill. I believed her, trusted her, loved her and her daughter . . .”