Page 49 of Loving You

“Does he always sit in the dark?” Monty asked quietly.

Bronx shrugged. “No, but it literally makes no difference to him, and I don’t mind saving on the electric bill. It kind of goes both ways though. Sometimes he thinks he’s being helpful by turning a light off, and he ends up turning it on while I’m out. I’m sure when he gets his own place, he’ll get to feel the sting of the utility bill, and he’ll figure out a system.”

Monty snorted. “Yeah. It was rough for me, moving out on my own. I never thought about money until I movedaway from my father. I have an inheritance from my grandfather, but I haven’t wanted to touch it. Nothing has seemed worth it, you know?” Monty flushed. “I’m sure that sounds very privileged. And I’m sure someone would kill to be in my position. My father offered to pay off my loans if I lived where he wanted me to and worked at the law office he chose for me. Very clearly, I turned him down.”

“And I don’t blame you for that. That guy is a di—” Bronx cut himself off. “Sorry. That’s not my place.”

“No, you’re right. He’s a dick,” Monty said.

Bronx laughed and reached out like he couldn’t help himself. He traced a touch over Monty’s lower lip. “I love how that sounds in your accent. When Dallas told me you were French, I kind of pictured the chef fromThe Little Mermaid.”

Monty glared at him. “Offensive.”

“Eh. You’d be cute as hell with that little chef’s hat.”

“Gross! I can hear you!” Lucas called. “Old people flirting offends me!”

Monty covered his face. “How do you survive with teenagers?”

“By never showing weakness,” Bronx said, his voice raised, and they both heard Lucas burst into laughter. “Really, he’s a good kid. We didn’t get to see each other enough over the last few years, so I think this is kind of payback for that absence.”

“Work?”

“He went to a boarding school for the blind. I mean, it had a day program, but it was pretty far from where we lived, and my ex wasn’t willing to move. If I could do it again, I’d keep him in the mainstream school down the street from where we were.”

Monty frowned. “Would that have been better for him?”

“I thought he needed the security of the blind school, but it was recently pointed out to me by the people I should have been listening to that learning to function in a sighted world was more beneficial at his age.”

Monty blinked. “Who should you listen to?”

“Blind people!” Lucas called.

“Mind your business, you little turd!” Bronx shouted, grinning. He shifted closer to Monty and took his hand, playing with his fingers. “He’s right though. I listened to sighted admin who were responsible for making sure they had lots of kids with parents paying tuition or getting state funding. Which was important, but maybe not in Lucas’s best interest. I’m trying to make up for it now before he goes off to college. That way, he’ll still want to see me, and I won’t be some abstract pocketbook paying his tuition.”

Monty shook his head. “He loves you. And there’s no chance in hell he can’t tell how much you love him. Believe me, as a man who knows acutely what it’s like to have a father who doesn’t care, this is good.”

Bronx let out a small sigh, leaning in, but before their lips met, the sound of the oven timer went off. Bronx groaned and tipped his forehead against Monty’s neck. “Ruined by the bell.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

“Right now, trust me, that’s exactly what I meant.”

Chapter Thirteen

BRONX

The dinner was perfect.Bronx tried not to get emotional about the fact that his son had cooked a better meal for him than Bronx had ever made in his life. It was a sign he was growing up. He was nearly old enough to be considered an adult, but that had never mattered to Bronx. He wasn’t the kind of dad ready to kick his kid to the curb the moment the clock ticked over to eighteen, and he never would be.

But there were big, blaring signs now reminding him that no matter how much he wanted to hold on, Lucas was going to grow up. With or without his acceptance.

“So, are these going to be on the menu for the food truck?”

Lucas scoffed. “No. Marc has a thing about food truck food being handheld or nothing. I’m trying to come up with a creative way to make them in, like, an empanada or something. I don’t know. He and Lane told me I could have some creative license with the menu, and since this isn’t getting off the ground until next year, I have time to figure out if I’m going to be goodat this.”

“If it helps, I’m impressed,” Monty told him. He’d polished off his plate and shoved it to the side.

Lucas tried to make his face unimpressed, but he failed. “This is home cooking though. Whether or not I can hack it in a kitchen is a whole other thing. But Lane says that he’s never had anyone take to the job so quickly with no experience.” Lucas bit his lip, then said, “I’m kind of thinking I might not look into colleges right away.”

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