Page 49 of Nailed (Dad Bod Contracting 3)
Ryder growls. “That’s horseshit.” He hesitates. “Look, it ain’t my place to get into any of that, but your boy deserves to have fun. He’s a kid. I won’t say anything about anyone, ’cause like I said, it’s not my place.” He touches my chin. “What time does he get out of school?”
I blink. “I—um. What? Why?”
“What time?”
“Three forty-five. But, Ryder—”
“You trust me with him?”
I suck in a sharp breath—there’s the ten-million-dollar question right there. “I…Ryder, I…”
“I want to take him to play laser tag, but if you’re not comfortable with it, just say so.”
“What about work?” I ask. “Don’t you have to work?”
“I can take off a couple hours early. I’ll just go in early tomorrow and stay late. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
I close my eyes and consult my feelings—and not just the ones that are deliriously happy to be back in Ryder’s embrace. Do I trust my son with Ryder McCann?
It doesn’t require much by way of consultation.
“Yes, Ryder. I trust you.” He starts to talk, but I touch his lips with my fingers to quiet him. “I’m not sure you understand what a huge deal this is for me, though. It’s brutally hard for me to leave him with Paul, and I’ve never left him alone with anyone else, ever.”
“Laurel, I wasn’t trying to—”
“But you’re different. Nate already said he likes you. He wants to hang out with you because you’re cool—and not just for your car, according to him. There are two kinds of people in the world for Nate: Slimy poopheads, and everyone else.”
“So I made the cut, huh?”
I nod. “You did. But making Nate’s cut is one thing. For me to feel comfortable letting you go anywhere with my son?”
He kisses my forehead. “It’s a big deal.”
I nod. “The biggest.”
“I just want him, and you, to know I like him for him. I like kids, and as you may be aware, I’m not afraid to be goofy and have fun.” He meets my eyes. “But Laurel, this is your choice. I’m not going to push anything. I just want to have fun with Nate.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be today, though,” I say hesitantly. “How about Next week? Monday?”
He nods. “That makes sense.”
“I just need a bit more time. And I need to talk to Nate about you—about us, a bit more first, too.”
He smiles. “Totally understandable. This Monday it is.”
“Be at the elementary school at quarter to four.”
“Are you sure?” He glances at me quizzically. “It was just an idea. It can wait if you need more time.”
I nod, closing my eyes again. “I’m sure,” I murmur wordlessly as I wiggle to get comfortable. “I’ll probably have a minor anxiety attack when it’s time to actually let him go with you, but I’ll work through it.”
“Laurel—”
I touch his lips. “Shushy-time.”
He rumbles a laugh. “Yes, dear.”
“Mmmm,” I hum, too sleepy to make sense any more. “Good boy.”
I feel him laugh again, but then I’m tumbling down into a deep, deep sleep.
Chapter 10
I wake up alone in my bed and it’s early. My alarm clock is buzzing—the only reason I woke up at all. I already miss Ryder’s presence, his warmth, his soothing strength, and I’ve only been awake fifteen seconds. But…
I smell coffee.
And…pancakes, and…bacon?
I shuffle out of bed, and to my door, but then pause before leaving my room, realizing I’m still in my robe, T-shirt, and underwear. I head out to the kitchen where I find Nate sitting at the kitchen table, shirtless and wearing pajama pants, a mind-bogglingly enormous stack of pancakes in front of him, absolutely drowned in butter and my sugar-free xylitol syrup.
Ryder is fully dressed, a beanie covering his messy red hair; he’s at the stove, frying bacon with tongs in one hand, and flipping pancakes on my griddle with the other hand. His phone is on the counter beside the stove, playing country music.
Nate sees me. “MOM! Look who came over extra special early to make me pancakes?”
“Wow,” I mumble, not quite awake enough to handle Nate’s energy level. “It’s really early.”
Ryder turns and winks at me. “I was awake early, and figured you guys would enjoy some pancakes and bacon.” He pulls a mug from the cabinet and pours a cup of coffee, which he places on the table near Nate. “And coffee, of course. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought my own coffee. I’m kind of a coffee snob.”
I shuffle to the table and sit down, taking a tentative sip. “Wow. This is…incredible.”
He nods. “Sure is. Single origin organic beans from a family-owned farm in Columbia.”
I snort. “Let me guess—you know a guy? Or is this your uncle, too?”
He chuckles. “Nah, I get it from a subscription service. They send me a new batch of single origin, freshly roasted beans every two weeks.”
