Page 7 of Broad Shoulders

“My plane ticket was one-way.” I touch Kai’s tiny foot, amazed by the adorable little toes. “There’s nothing I need to get back to anytime soon.”

Alana sits back. “You came here planning to stay? Even before knowing about Kai?”

I nod. “I know our time together wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. I’ve spent the last year trying to convince myself of that. But I couldn’t do it. And I knew if there was any chance for us, I had to come back and fight for it.”

Alana’s eyes fill with emotion, but she shakes her head. “Jackson, I’m flattered. And if I had room in my life for a relationship, you’re the one I’d want. But I can’t do it, not right now. My life is Kai, and work. I’m already overwhelmed as it is.”

Disappointment slams into me. “Right.”

“I want you to be in Kai’s life as much as you want to be,” she continues. “You’re his father. You have every right to that. But I can’t be with you. I’m sorry, Jackson.”

This morning, I felt so damn hopeful. Now that hope feels crushed. “I understand,” I tell her, even though the words pain me. I look down at Kai, who’s contentedly kicking his legs. “Can I watch him tonight when you’re working?”

“Of course.” She seems relieved by the change of subject. “I can bring his things here, or you can come to my place.”

“Either works. Whatever’s easier for you.”

I reach out, and Kai grabs my finger again, this time breaking into a drooly smile that hits me right in the chest. “Damn. This kid’s going to be a heartbreaker.”

As I look at my son, I think about how much I’m looking forward to getting to know him better. And how, thankfully, Kai seems like he wants to see more of me too.

I just wish his mother would look at me the same way.

4

ALANA

Ever since I became a mom, I live for the moment my shift ends at the bar. I love my job, but nothing compares to walking into Kai’s nursery, leaning over his crib, and watching his little chest rise and fall in peaceful slumber. That quiet moment reminds me that despite never planning this life, I was meant to be his mother.

Tonight, I wipe down the bar with more urgency than usual, glancing at the clock every few minutes. I tell myself this is normal anxiety, the standard worry when leaving your baby with someone new. But there’s nothing standard about leaving your two-month-old with the father he just met.

“Everything okay?” Pualani asks, stacking clean glasses behind the bar.

“Fine.” I force my attention back to a waiting customer. “Just the usual mom stuff.”

What I don’t say is how unsettling it felt to watch Jackson hold our son this afternoon—his large hands so gentle, his expressiona mixture of awe and determination. How the sight of them together created a complicated ache in my chest.

The last hour of my shift drags by in slow motion. When closing time finally arrives, I call a hasty goodbye to Pualani and push through the door into the warm night air.

The walk home usually helps me decompress, transitioning from bartender back to mom. Tonight, my pace is quicker, my mind racing ahead to what I might find. Did Kai wake up crying? Did Jackson figure out how to soothe him? What if Kai refused the bottle?

I gave Jackson detailed instructions before I left, showing him where everything was, walking him through Kai’s bedtime routine. He listened intently, his eyes serious as he took mental notes. But instructions can only prepare you so much when you’ve never taken care of a baby before.

The lights are on in my little beach house when I arrive. I fumble with my keys, barely able to get the door unlocked fast enough.

Inside, the living room looks like a baby supply store exploded. Blankets, toys, and burp cloths are scattered across every surface. An empty bottle sits on the coffee table next to a half-eaten sandwich. The diaper bag has been completely unpacked, its contents spread out.

And there, in the center of it all, is Jackson himself. He’s sitting upright on my couch, head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Fast asleep.

I can’t help but smile at the sight. Jackson King, former baseball superstar, defeated by one tiny baby.

I step around the mess and move silently into Kai’s nursery. The soft nightlight casts a gentle glow as I approach the crib. Kai lies on his back, arms flung outward like he’s a starfish, his chest rising and falling with each breath. I lean over and gently kiss his forehead, inhaling his sweet baby scent.

“You wore Daddy out, didn’t you?” I whisper.

The wordDaddyfeels strange on my tongue, a reality I’m still adjusting to. I’d fully accepted that I’d be raising Kai alone. Now Jackson is here, wanting to be involved, and everything is upside down.

I return to the living room, my eyes drawn back to Jackson. His tall, muscular body looks almost comical on my modest couch, his broad shoulders gigantic against the cushions. His face looks younger in sleep, the worry lines around his eyes smoothed out. I remember how he looked at me yesterday at the bar—hope and longing so clear in his expression before I dropped my bombshell.

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