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Bucking the Rules(87)

By:Kat Murray


His face scrunched up, and she recognized—even from just the few hours’ experience she had—his reaction meant nothing good. “Okay, all right, back up we go.” She stood and hefted him to her hip and started to pace again. She’d made the fourth lap around the apartment, the last two with Seth’s glass-shattering accompaniment, when Trace knocked and walked in.

“Hey, sorry … whoa, buddy.” He immediately stepped in all the way and grabbed Seth. “What’s wrong with you, huh?”

“If you find out, send up a smoke signal. Clearly, I had no clue how to fix it.” Exhausted, Jo slid bonelessly to the couch. The position was uncomfortable, but she didn’t have the energy to move. And yet, she had a shift starting in thirty minutes. Ha. “I couldn’t make him happy.”

“It happens. Hey, bud, let’s talk, huh?” He made the same laps Jo just had completed around the apartment, only this time the pattern seemed to soothe Seth. After a moment, his tiny little head dropped to Daddy’s shoulder, his thumb found his mouth, and his eyes started to droop.

“Right. Well, apparently he wanted Daddy.” Who could blame him? She wanted his daddy, too. “I did my best.”

“I know you did. Thanks for watching him.”

“How’s Bea?”

“Shaken, but safe and in one piece. Her little car can’t say the same, unfortunately. But cars are replaceable.” He rubbed his chin over Seth’s hair a little. “Really, thanks for watching him. I could have taken him, but it woulda been hell for everyone.”

“I know. I’d say I was glad to help, but I don’t think I was all that helpful.” She checked the clock. Twenty-five minutes and counting. Hell. “I’m not sure how you do it.”

“Do what?” His back was turned as he rocked on his heels a little.

The guy really had no clue. He just did his thing and kept on trucking. “The single parenting gig. I’m exhausted and it was only a couple hours.”

“He’s mine.”

That was it. For Trace, that was enough. She saw the perfect love a parent had for a child in that moment, and wanted it so badly for herself. Not the parent-child love, but the deep, abiding love Trace so clearly had to give. And what she was about to say was going to ruin her chance of getting it.

“I think I’m not right for this.”

“Right for what?” Trace bent down with innate grace and grabbed a stuffed animal from the bag to hand to Seth, who tucked the animal under his arm.

“Right for you both. You need someone who can take you on as a set. You’re like salt and pepper. Even if you only like pepper, you can’t just have a pepper shaker.”

“What?” His brows knit together in confusion. “Why are we talking about shakers?”

“Never mind.” She struggled to lift one hand to wave that away. After lugging the kid around for two hours straight, her arms felt like spaghetti. “I mean, it’s occurred to me that some people are truly just not meant to do the kid thing. And no matter how slowly you approach it, that’s never going to change. Like some people are cat people, and some aren’t. I’m not a kid person.” She watched as Seth’s eyes finally closed completely. “Maybe a little part of me wishes I was, but I’m not.”

“Jo,” Trace warned quietly. “Don’t.”

“Facts are facts. I tried to go against instinct. And if it were just two adults in the mix, then it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But there’s a child who matters more here, and he’d take the brunt of whatever mistakes we made. So I think it’s best to just give the whole relationship a pass now.”

God, that hurt. If she’d had the energy, she’d have rubbed at the ache forming in her chest.

“Jo. Josephine Tallen, don’t start.” Trace shook his head. His voice was low, but determined. “You’re thinking too far ahead. You don’t know how things will work out in a few months.”

“Kid person,” she said, waving a hand out at him, then laying it flat against her chest. “Not a kid person. I can’t do that to him.” She smiled slightly, though it hurt. “Seth and I might not get along all that great, but I still think he’s cute. Find someone who completes the set.”

Trace stood, still and unmovable as an oak tree in the middle of her living room. “I’m not giving up. Not walking away from us. We’re good. You know we are.”

“We are, yeah. But the three of us? It’s just hurt and pain waiting to happen, mostly for him.” She leveraged herself up, feeling as unsteady as a drunk on the tail-end of a three-day bender. “I have a shift I need to get ready for.”