Page 194 of Wait for Him

James is definitely Rose's son.

The next thought takes another second to arrive, and when it does, every good feeling I had about that name over the crib gets shoved aside.

Wesley.

The man who raised me, the man I called Dad for most of my life, raped Rose and fathered her child.

I look at James again, and my brain immediately starts trying to sort out what that makes us. Wesley isn't my biological father, so James and I don't share blood. I know that. But biology feels like a technicality when I'm staring at the son of the man who raised me, standing beside the woman I've loved for most of my adult life.

This family needs a fucking flowchart.

Bennet looks at Rose, and whatever he's seeing makes his expression soften.

Rose notices.

"You knew?" she asks, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, sis." His voice is gentler than I've ever heard it. "I've always known."

Beside me, Joe leans closer. "Knew what?"

I pop him on the back of the head.

Chapter Twenty

Rose

"Always?" I stagger back a step, the word barely making it out.

"Mensa, Rose."

"You're Mensa?" James lights up. "That's so fucking awesome."

"Hey!" My finger comes up on reflex. "No F-bombs."

He just laughs. "Sorry."

"And you..." I point at Michael, then stop because I can't decide whether to hug him or strangle him, and my heart is doing enough already without adding violence. "Back to you. Follow me. I can't function in this much adorableness."

I grab them both by the hand, my brother in one and my son in the other, and there's a sentence I never thought I'd get to think, then pull them out of the nursery toward the dining table.

"Sit." I point at two chairs. "Spill."

The rest of the audience files out behind us and arranges itself across the living room couch, openly watching. They may as well have popcorn. A year ago I would've dragged this conversation behind three closed doors and required everyone within earshot to sign an NDA, but I'm not hiding anymore. This is my life. They can watch.

Michael folds his hands on the table like he's opening a shareholder meeting. "Well, you went in for your 'thyroid surgery.' Samson and Lauren came home with a baby they'd adopted. You watched said baby constantly, from our driveway, from park benches, from wherever they happened to be. And he has a white streak exactly where you have yours. You dyed it, sure. But we all knew it was there."

He looks over at James, and his voice softens.

"I never knew the circumstances, and I didn't care to dig. I never wanted you to feel obligated to tell me, so I never said a word. I can't imagine what it cost you to walk away and then watch him grow up the way you did, but I know you, Rose. I know you did what you believed was best for him. So I made a point of knowing him." He knocks his knuckles lightly against James's shoulder. "He's a pretty cool fucking kid."

"He can say it?" James protests, pointing.

"He's an adult. And you're a buffering menace. You're both menaces. This table is full of menaces."

James grins like he's just been promoted.

I look at my brother and realize he's been carrying this quietly for years, protecting me from my own secret while I thought I was the one protecting him.