Page 22 of Wild Reckoning

“Okay, but we gotta play it cool.” Killian winked conspiratorially at him. “Pretend we aren’t going to do it anymore.”

He just stared at Killian, like he was waiting for further instructions.

When Stewart walked close enough, Killian shot him with the sprayer. His mate shouted, standing there with water all over his chest and glaring at Killian.

“Run!” He scooped the boy off the chair and shot from the kitchen, peals of laughter coming from Ethan. Killian grinned at the sound, but his smile died when Stewart gave chase, cornering them in the living room.

“What do we do, Ethan?” Killian asked, noticing how the sides of Stewart’s lips twitched.

“Badass!” Ethan shouted. Killian was almost sure the kid was trying to say run, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Tater tot.” Stewart groaned. “Please stop saying that.”

The cub giggled. “Badass!”

“Tough!” Killian hoped the toddler would latch onto that word and let the other one go.

No such luck. Ethan repeated it again. Why was it so hilarious when a toddler cursed? Killian wasn’t sure why, but knew better than to laugh, especially when he saw his mate scowling at him.

Stewart waved a finger at Killian. “You taught him that.”

He opened his mouth—unsure how to defend himself since it was the truth—and then remembered he hadn’t sent Ryker the pictures. As he did, Stewart took Ethan from his arms and went back to the kitchen.

Then they worked together to clean up the mess from the impromptu water fight, their arms brushing and their gazes meeting a few times. Killian gave a low, throaty growl at the way his mate blushed but also felt his nervous energy even without looking at him.

The kiss they’d shared earlier played on a loop in his mind, and it was all he could think about at the moment. Next time it happened, Killian would have to make sure not to let Stewart run, to talk him through his fears instead. He just wished he knew why Stewart was afraid of intimacy, but also afraid to find out.

Was it because of the bad man?

Ethan held out his small hand, causing Killian to shake away the thought. Unsure what the cub wanted, he gave him the hand towel then watched as the toddler started wiping a dry chair at the table.

If that could be considered wiping. It was more like he was slapping the chair with the towel, but it was cute how he was trying to pitch in.

“I was given custody right after my sister died,” Stewart said, pulling Killian’s attention away from the boy.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The soft light coming in through the windows made Stewart’s features even more striking.

His mate shrugged as he stared at his nephew with a soft smile. “We’d drifted apart some time ago. I think she resented growing up in foster care and hated that I was a little more adjusted to it, while she could never find her footing. But I hadn’t adjusted to it. I just learned how to hide my resentment better.”

Killian wasn’t sure what to say. His mate was finally opening up, and he didn’t want to interrupt him.

Running his fingers through Ethan’s hair, Stewart had a far-off expression. “She called me to the hospital two days before she died.” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I couldn’t understand why she didn’t reach out to me sooner, didn’t give me more time with her.”

Killian couldn’t just stand there while his mate struggled to keep himself together. He closed the distance and pulled Stewart into his arms and rubbed his back.

“Bad man,” Ethan said quietly from beside them, looking as if he would cry because his uncle was so upset. “Bad man hurt Stewalulu.”

The statement only made Stewart cry harder, triggering Ethan to do the same. Killian reached down and scooped the boy up, holding them both in his arms.

“What bad man?” Killian asked softly. “Who hurt you, Stewart?”

“Cybe.” Ethan sniffled and wiped at his nose. “Cybe hit Stewalulu.”

“Clive. My ex-boyfriend,” Stewart said.

“Did… did he hurt Ethan, too?” If he had, Killian would go after the son of a bitch with a vengeance. He still might for bringing his mate so much pain.

“No.” Stewart shook his head. “He wouldn’t be alive right now if he had,” he said through a clenched jaw.

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