Page 12 of Kiss Me Forever

Brooklyn and Lexington had already explained to me that I could have as much time as I needed, although I was the lead on a major project, and there was an upcoming restoration that nobody but me could do. I would cost the family thousands of dollars if I took too much time off. Not to mention Dash was following me on the main project, learning his way around fire restoration because he didn’t have any experience.

I had once been the person putting out fires, and now I was the one trying to put things together after the fact. And even though Dash was technically my boss, he was nearly two decades younger than me and wanted the experience. I had so much on my plate without the addition of quicksand, and yet I knew if I needed to lean on the Montgomerys, I could.

Brooklyn had even mentioned that the family had a full childcare system, and if I wanted to have it on property versus at one of the main homes, I could. Apparently in the previous generation of Montgomerys, there had been so many children within all of their blue collar businesses, that they created Montgomery Daycare in order to keep the family business a family. All employees were able to use the system, and it was free. Free childcare just because you happened to work for a family that was fucking insane. But it wasn’t as if I was going to look a gift horse in the mouth. one of the best out there.

I ran my hand over my hair, and finally turned off my truck, realizing I had been idling in my parents’ driveway for a good ten minutes.

I had spent most of the afternoon and evening the day before speaking with my lawyers, going through paperwork, and realizing that this was a reality.

And now I needed to tell my family.

I should have told them yesterday. I should have called them, in a panic, even though I was forty-fucking-one years old. I wanted to lean on my parents, and have my mommy tell me everything would be okay.

And now I was a dad. Bile crept up my throat. A father. As in, someone with a child.

I didn’t even know what grade twelve-year-olds were in. Let alone how Bella did in school, or what friends she had. I didn’t know her friends, and I didn’t know if she had known about me. From the solemn look on her face the day before, I had a feeling if she did know anything about me, it hadn’t been complimentary.

What the hell had Cassie been thinking?

I let out a deep sigh, knowing I couldn’t do this alone.

The knock on the window nearly ripped a scream from my throat, and I let out a deep breath.

Denver stood at the window, brows raised, and I realized that maybe I had been sitting in my truck for longer than ten minutes. I gestured for him to move out of the way, and I finally opened the door.

My younger brother looked a lot like me. Dark hair, broad jaw, broad shoulders. All of us Foxes looked pretty much the same. My parents had a new kid every two years until Aiden had shown up, and they had said that that was enough. I had no idea how my mother dealt with four boys, but all of us had graduated, gotten jobs, and were functioning members of society. Of course, none of us had stayed married, or started families, so perhaps we were failures in Mom’s eyes slightly.

But then again, apparently I had made her a grandmother over a decade ago and hadn’t known. What the hell was I going to do?

“You sick?” Denver asked as he tilted his head, studying my face. “I thought you fell asleep in your truck out there. Mom was going to come out with some soup, or call 911 on you. You’re lucky I’m the one that did.”

“I’m here too!” Rowan called out, ever the middle child.

I was the oldest, then there was Denver. And while technically Denver was also an eldest child, and the middle child, Rowan loved perpetuating the stereotype. They were all in their thirties and maybe looking to settle down at some point. I had been married before and hadn’t planned on doing it again. So I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never be a dad.

Dear God. I was a dad. I shook my head, wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do.

“Are Mom and Dad in there?” I asked, gesturing to their home. It was the same house we had grown up in, a rambling two-story surrounded by old trees, with plenty of space for the grandkids my mother had reconciled herself to never have.

Fuck.

“Yes. And dinner’s almost ready. It’s the Fox family dinnertime. I realize that you hang out with the Montgomerys now, and they do their family dinners often, but we still have a routine.”

I rolled my eyes, closed my truck door, and headed towards the house, ignoring Rowan and Denver, who seemed to be bickering about some sports thing. I would usually join in. There was nothing like beating my brothers at fantasy football or hockey or any other thing. We were competitive as hell, and had played nearly every sport that we could through club or school, or even neighborhood planning. We’d had more broken bones than my mother probably could ever think about or want in a lifetime and had been an absolute menace.

When I had joined the fire department, I wasn’t sure that my parents would ever forgive me. They had been proud of me, but so damn scared. Then all three of my brothers had followed my footsteps, and my mother had never quite forgiven me for that. My brothers were still firemen, firefighters, and I had taken a different route. One too many falls, one too many strains, so I decided to fix what had been broken after my first job was done.

Maybe my mother would forgive me since I’ve made her a grandmother, albeit a little late.

“What the hell’s going on with you?” Rowan asked, studying my face.

“Are the parents drinking?” I asked instead of answering.

Denver blinked at me and gave Rowan a look. “There’s some wine open. Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. I think. Fuck. I might need to get something harder for this.”

“Whatever it is, we’re here for you. I promise. We’ll give you shit for it, because we love you, but you’re not alone.” Rowan squeezed my shoulder, and I let out a deep breath.