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On Solid Ground (A Touch of Fate)
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On Solid Ground
Copyright © 2015 by KL. Grayson
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor: S.G. Thomas
Cover Designer: Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Cover Photo: Stock photo from Deposit Photos
Interior Design and Formatting: Champagne Formats
ISBN 978-0-9907955-6-8
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Author Information
Preview of Just For Tonight
To my son, Gavin. You have the biggest heart and the biggest brain of any six year-old I know. I love you to the moon and back, buddy.
“I’m nervous,” Tyson whispers, rubbing his hands together as though he’s trying to warm them up.
Peeking my head around him, I glance into the living room. Max is sitting on the couch, his iPad in hand, and I have no doubt that he’s completely immersed in Subway Surfers. He has absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.
“Baby,” I say, looking back at Tyson. “You’re overreacting. Max is going to be excited, and I, for one, can’t wait to tell him.”
“But what if he’s not?” he counters. “What if he—?”
Pulling Tyson in close, I plant my lips on his, effectively shutting him up. Of course, I’m the one who ends up melting into him, and when he pulls back—far too soon—my lips follow his, hoping he’ll catch the hint and come back for more.
“That’s not fair,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re trying to distract me.”
I shrug. “You’re easily distracted. And you’re being a bit ridiculous. It’s a baby.” Those last three words cause my heart to swell. We’re having a baby. “Who wouldn’t be excited about a baby?”
“I know,” he says, scrunching his nose. “It’s just that Max has had you to himself … well … forever. And all of sudden I barge into your lives—”
“Not all of a sudden,” I interrupt. “Yes, he had me to himself for five years, but you’ve been a part of our lives for the last year and a half.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Tyson shakes his head. “You’ve been his, and then out of nowhere he had to share you with me, and now he’s going to be sharing you with a brother or sister. I just think that it’s not going to be all peachy like you think it’s going to be, and I’m worried.”
“About nothing. We’ll tell Max”—grabbing Tyson’s hand, I slide it to my still flat belly—“about the baby and then just take it one step at a time after that. Trust me, everything will be fine.”
“Okay,” he says, letting out a petulant sigh. I push up on my tiptoes, brushing my lips over his one last time—for good luck, and not at all because he’s smokin’ hot and all mine. “Let’s do this.”
“You first,” he says, stepping to the side.
I can’t help but chuckle. Here is this big, tough man that takes on the world every single day and he’s afraid to talk to a child.
Grabbing Tyson’s hand, I lead the way into the living room, then Tyson surprises me when he says something first. “Hey, buddy.”
Max grunts without sparing Tyson a glance. “Can you put the iPad down for a second? Your mom and I have something we want to talk to you about.”
“I didn’t do it,” Max replies, his tiny fingers still flying over the screen.
“You didn’t do what?” I ask, grabbing the iPad from Max’s hands.
“Hey!” Max’s head pops up, brows furrowed. “I was in the middle of a game.”
“You can have the game back in a minute.” Setting the tablet down on the coffee table, I take a seat next to Max while Tyson sits on the recliner. “But first, Tyson and I have something we want to tell you.”
“Fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. “Tell me.”
Max’s lips are pinched into a thin line, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to my happy-go-lucky little boy. It’s not that Max isn’t happy, but he’s definitely developed an attitude that I wasn’t at all prepared for.
“Well …” Clearing my throat, I glance at Tyson. He gives me a reassuring smile and a nod, confirming what I already knew—it’s my job to tell Max. Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, straighten my back and remind myself that having a baby is a gift, and something I wasn’t sure I’d ever experience again. “I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a big brother,” I say, trying my best to make it sound cool and exciting. The look on Max’s face tells me that he considers this neither cool nor exciting.
His lips part and his jaw nearly hits the floor as his big brown eyes stare back at me. He glances at Tyson and then back at me while I wait for him to say something … anything. Blinking several times, Max’s gaze drops to my stomach, and I instinctively place my hand over it.
“I’m only twelve weeks,” I say somewhat defensively, though I have no idea why. “Say something, Max.” I hate how silent he’s being, and I can’t help but wonder if Tyson was right. Maybe to Max, this isn’t welcome news. The only question is why?
“No.” One word. A word I’ve heard come from Max’s mouth more and more these days. But this time it’s different—this time he isn’t being defiant. The sincerity in his voice is like a slap in the face. “I don’t want a brother.”
“It could be a girl,” Tyson suggests.
A look of utter disbelief slides onto Max’s face and he swivels his head toward Tyson. “I don’t want a sister either.”
“Max—”
“No!” he hollers, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a brother. What’s wrong with the way things are right now?” Max’s eyes glitter with moisture and it’s like a punch to the gut. “Why can’t it just be the three us of like it has been?” he says, wiping an arm over his face when a couple of tears leak out. “What did I do wrong?”
Tyson pushes from his seat and kneels down in front of Max, putting one hand on Max’s knee and one on mine. “There’s nothing wrong with the way things are, and you didn’t do anything wrong, Max. Our family is perfect, and this baby is only going to make things more perfect.” Tyson glances at me, and whatever he sees—most likely heartache—spurs him to keep going. “Trust me, buddy, you’re going to love it. Having a bigger brother was one of the best parts of growing up for me, and now you’re going to be a big brother. They’re going to look up to you and want to be like you—”
Max’s bottom lip trembles and mine follows suit as he slaps Tyson’s hand away. “I don’t care,” he growls, his voice breaking. “I hate yo
u guys!” Max shoves past us and runs down the hall. I flinch when his bedroom door slams shut.
If there’s one thing that makes a mother’s heart ache, it’s seeing her child in pain. And even though Max’s pain isn’t physical, it’s ripping me to shreds knowing that he’s hurting … and I’m the cause.
“You were right,” I say, emotion clogging my throat. Without warning, my nose burns and tears roll down my face. “He hates us,” I cry, burying my face in my hands. “I’m the worst mother ever.” Max has never once said he hates me and I can’t even begin to describe how horrible that makes me feel.
Tyson gathers me in his arms, and I wrap myself around him. “Shhh,” he croons, running his hand in circles on my back. Funny how he was the nervous one and now he’s comforting me. “You’re an amazing mother, Harley, and I assure you that Max didn’t mean that. He’s just mad and he’s lashing out.”
“I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head against his chest. “I think it’s more than that.”
“You need to go talk to him.” Tyson pulls back just a fraction. “Look at me,” he says, offering me a sympathetic smile when my swollen eyes meet his. “There’s my girl.” He brushes a thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears, and I’m reminded for about the billionth time just how lucky I am to have him. “This pregnancy is an incredible gift from God, and I promise you that Max will come around.”
“Okay…” I sigh as my eyes drift down the hall.
Tyson plants a soft kiss on the side of my head and tugs me up from the couch. “Go.”
“Knock, knock.”
Tapping on the door, I push it open and peek my head into Max’s room. “Can I come in?” Max is sitting on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, head buried. When he doesn’t respond, I take that as a yes.
Stepping around his Legos scattered across the floor, I sit down on the edge of his bed. “Max, will you look at me please?”
He shakes his head and I close my eyes, trying to figure out the best way to address this. Remembering how my heart nearly exploded with love the first time I ever laid eyes on Max, the words just start spilling out. “The day you were born was the best day of my life. There you were, this dark-haired, gorgeous little baby and you were all mine. I didn’t have to share you with anyone … well, okay”—I shrug—“I had to share you with Nana and Papa, but that was it. From that day forward, it was just the two of us against the world, so I know it must be hard for you to—”
“It’s not you.” My eyes pop open and I look at Max. The bottom part of his face is still buried, but his red, puffy eyes are locked on mine.
Shifting on the bed, I turn so I can face him. “Then tell me,” I beg. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s Tyson,” he whispers, averting his eyes.
“I…” Lips pursed, I try to understand what he’s talking about, but I come up empty. “I don’t understand.”
Max sniffs and wipes his eyes, and I decide enough is enough. My little boy may be seven pushing seventeen, but he’s still my little boy. Tugging his arm, I pull Max into a hug. Surprisingly, he doesn’t resist, and when he buries his face in the crook of my neck and starts to cry, I nearly lose it. “Talk to me, Max.”
His shoulders bob, his body shaking with each shuddery breath. “I just got him,” he says, wiping his face on my shirt. I tighten my grip as if, in doing so, I could absorb some of his pain. “All the kids at school have dads, and …” His voice breaks on a sob and I wait him out, happy that he’s finally sharing what’s on his mind.
“All the kids at school have dads, and I always wanted one. Well, now I finally got one, and I’m gonna lose him.”
“Max, no.” I pull back just a fraction so that I can look him in the eye. “Ty loves you. Why would you think you’re going to lose him?”
“Because I’m not his,” he says, his words splitting my heart in two. Clearly my son doesn’t understand how much he means to Tyson. “This baby is Tyson’s … I’m not.” I open my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it when he keeps talking. “He’s not gonna want to play soccer or baseball with me anymore, and when he come home from work”—Max sucks in a jerky breath and wipes his face—“he usually comes in here and talks to me before I go to bed, but now he’s going to want to spend time with the baby.”
“No.” Tyson’s strong voice startles me and I spin around, Max still clutched firmly in my arms.
I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but—damn it—I wanted to know what’s going on with Max. When I hear him say he’s not mine, I nearly lose my shit. “No,” I say, stepping into Max’s room. Harley swivels around and Max’s head pops up. “You are mine,” I state firmly, feeling the words deep in my soul. Harley lets go of Max and slips off the bed, but I don’t bother looking at her because right now my son needs my full attention.
Apparently I have it, because when I sit down next to Max, he doesn’t move a muscle. His big brown eyes are two swirling pools of uncertainty, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to yank him into my arms. “Did you hear me?” I ask.
His eyes flit nervously around my face, but he doesn’t answer.
“You are mine, Max. Aside from your mom, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I swear to you…” Emotion creeps its way up my throat, cutting off my words, and I have to swallow a couple of times before continuing. “I swear to you that nothing is going to change that. Nothing.”
“Not even the baby?” Max asks, his chin quivering.
“I will love this baby with my whole heart, just like I love you with my whole heart. This baby won’t change how I feel about you. You are my son, my firstborn.” Max gives me a watery smile and the tight band around my heart loosens. “And yes, some things will change. I’ll want to spend time with the baby, but I promise you that we will still have our time. Plus, it’s not just you sharing me.” Max cocks his head to the side. “I’m going to have to share you too. This baby is going to love you so much, and I have no doubt that you’re going to be the best big brother in the world. One of these days you won’t want to kick around the ball with me because you’ll be kicking around the ball with him—”
“Or her,” Max says, smiling sheepishly.
“Or her.” I nod.
“So you’ll still be my dad?”
“Without a doubt,” I say. Throwing an arm around his back, I pull him in for a hug and he latches onto me with a strength I didn’t know he was capable of. “You’re stuck with me, bud. I will never stop being your dad.”
“Pinky swear?” he says, holding up his hand. Max hasn’t ‘pinky swore’ with me in several months. He told me a while back that it was childish, which felt like a punch to the gut at the time, so I don’t hesitate now to take him up on that offer.
Linking my little finger with his, I kiss his forehead. “Pinky swear.”
“Tyson?” A hand lands on my shoulder, and I look up at Harley to see tearstains on her cheeks. Honestly, I forgot that she was even in the room. She mouths ‘I love you,’ smiling sweetly, and I mouth the words back. “I hate to say this, but you need to get going or you’re going to be late for work.”
Shit. I forgot I had to work today. These fucking weekend shifts piss me off.
“Okay.” I sigh, cupping a hand to the side of Max’s neck. “Soccer. Tomorrow night. Just me and you, got it?”
Max’s face splits into a blinding smile and he nods. “I’ll kick your butt,” he says, laughing. The sound is like music to my ears.
“No, you won’t.” Rolling my eyes, I stand up and pull Harley in for a hug. “Can you believe this kid? He thinks he can actually beat me at soccer.”
“You are getting old.” Max laughs even harder at Harley’s jab, and when I tickle her side, she spins away and takes off running through the house with the two of us hot on her heels.
The next few weeks flew by without incident. Harley had her first prenatal check-up, and other than a slightly elevated blood pressure, she was given a good report.
Max seems to be back to his normal self, which has been a huge relief to both Harley and me.
Still, that day we told him about the baby shook me more than either of them realized. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d told Max that I loved him, and it floored me to hear that he still had doubts.
That’s when it hit me.
My words weren’t enough. Max needed action.
So the very next day I put a call in to my lawyer—a call that I’d already been dying to make—and the paperwork was delivered to me yesterday at work.
Now it’s time to share it with my beautiful girl.
“Harley, baby,” I whisper. “It’s time to wake up.” The sheet is bunched around her waist, and the smooth curve of her back draws me in. Peppering kisses along her neck, I then slowly trail my lips down the length of her spine. She stirs for a brief second and I pull back, watching as she cuddles against her pillow.
She’s had a rough three days of work. Back-to-back twelve-hour shifts would tire anyone out, so I couldn’t imagine working those hours while pregnant. I hate to wake her up, but I’m excited and full of nervous energy, anxious to give her the surprise that I’ve been working so hard on.
When my alarm went off at six o’clock this morning, I got up to help Max get ready for school and then dropped him off. I’ve been pacing around the house ever since, waiting for sleeping beauty here to wake up.
A soft moan filters through the air and Harley rolls onto her back, baring her naked breasts. Her nipples instantly pucker when exposed to the air, and it takes everything in me not to bend over and suck one of those tight buds into my mouth. My cock stirs, but that’s no surprise.
The surprise, I remind myself. Just give her the surprise and … fuck it.
Leaning down, I blow across her breast, watching as her nipple tightens. Goose bumps scatter across her chest, and when I see a faint smile tug at the corner of her mouth, I decide that I’ve waited long enough to taste my girl.
“Tyson.” Her fingers find their way to my hair and, gripping the back of my head, she holds me to her. Swirling my tongue, I nip and tease, first one breast and then the other, until she’s writhing beneath me.