Page 60 of Escape into the Night

“I beg your pardon?” Elias managed to blurt out while still coughing on water that cost entirely too much for what it actually was.

Parker huffed and rolled his eyes. “I asked Cay-Cay for one ‘cause he has one but he said I'm too little! It's not fair. I had Shirley Temples before, and they're fancy drinks too. I don't understand why I can't have this one!”

Elias prided himself on being a very intelligent man. He had built a career on analyzing crises, dissecting words, and reading between the lines. Yet, for a solid three seconds, his brain utterly failed him.

Caleb, sprawled in his own lounge chair at the edge of the infinity pool in their private villa, wasn't even pretending not to laugh. He tipped his sunglasses down and shook his head with a cackle of delight.

“My funky little dude,” Caleb called, barely containing his crooked grin. “You're asking for a cocktail, not a— you know what? No. We are not explaining this. I'm making you a mango smoothie and we are never talking about this again.”

“But that's not the same,” Parker groaned.

“It's exactly the same, Park.” Caleb levered himself out of the lounger and slid into a sinfully silky robe before closing the distance and ruffling Parker’s damp hair. “Drop it before your dad’s head explodes. If you head inside, I'll even let you push the buttons on the blender.”

Parker muttered something under his breath about drinks being stupid before storming off toward the villa.

Elias exhaled a slow, measured breath before lowering his tablet to the lounge. “Well, that could have been worse.”

Caleb grinned and bent down to steal a kiss. “It could have been a whole lot better, too.”

“I want it on the record that I despise the fact that I will forever associate ‘sex on the beach’ with our child.”

Caleb laughed, long and loud, before sashaying away. “Welcome to parenthood, I guess.”

Elias shook his head and returned to his reading.

By sunset, they had migrated to the private patio, where a spread of grilled seafood, fresh fruit, and tropical drinks lay sprawled across the table beneath the artfully hung bistro lights. Parker had spent most of the afternoon swimming to the point where he could barely keep his eyes open, and now, he was teetering on the cusp of falling asleep in his dinner. With half-lidded eyes, he twirled his fork through a pile of rice with very little enthusiasm.

“I think we broke him,” Elias mused, watching as the little boy's head tipped dangerously close to his plate.

Caleb stifled a chuckle as he reached over to gingerly pluck the fork from his fingertips. “C’mon, my man. Let’s get you to bed before you give yourself a shrimp facial.”

“M’awake,” Parker protested.

“Sure, buddy.” Caleb slipped from his chair and hoisted Parker into his arms with a grunt. “You're awake and I'm six-foot-three with giant muscles.”

Parker giggled, his arms and legs instinctively wrapping around Caleb’s body as he nestled in close with a yawn. Elias’ heart clenched at the sight.

“Night, Dad.” Parker’s words were muffled against Caleb’s shoulder. He reached out a hand and brushed his fingers through his son’s wavy hair.

“Sleep well, buddy.”

Within minutes, Caleb returned and stretched out in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “He’s out cold.”

Elias relaxed in his own chair, resting an arm over the back of Caleb's as he did so. “I still forget how young he is sometimes.”

“Says the man who gave him a briefing on constitutional law last week when he asked why the bad guys don't just ‘get kicked out’ of government,” Caleb retorted with an arched brow.

Elias’ eyes shifted. “It was a simplified briefing.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, bossman.”

They sat there for a while, the breeze soft against their skin, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore just out of sight. Just for a moment, the world was still. Elias let his thoughts wander as he drew aimless patterns on Caleb’s bare shoulder.

“You're thinking so loud, baby doll. I can see it all over your expression.”

“That’s just my resting smart face.”

Caleb sighed, clearly done with Elias’ bullshit, before shifting closer and threading their fingers together. “You are allowed to breathe, you know. You're allowed a few days to be Elias. Not the candidate, not the strategist, just you.”

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