A Measure of Love (17 page)

Riley huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s just what I said.”

A can of Coke and a glass appeared on the coffee table in front of Riley. “Did I just hear right?” Seb asked incredulously. “A
son
?”

Riley dropped his face into the hand he hadn’t damaged and exhaled, the throb in his temples keeping a wicked beat. He listened as his mom explained about Noah and how Lexie had convinced Riley to leave her store despite his desire to tear the place to pieces. How she’d pleaded with him not to make a scene. That she would meet him anywhere, anytime, and explain if he’d just leave. In retrospect, Riley wasn’t quite sure how
Lexie had managed to sway him, but, realistically, what would screaming and shouting at her in front of a ton of strangers have accomplished?

Both Tate and Seb fired out questions that Joan attempted to answer while Riley tried his hardest to slow down his brain.

“And the bitch just kept him a secret?”

“Hey!” Riley’s head snapped up. He glared at Seb. “Don’t.” As much as Riley knew Lexie had fucked up, he wasn’t prepared to have anyone call her names.

Seb rolled his eyes in clear frustration.

“He’s only saying what we’re all thinking,” Tate offered as he pressed the frozen peas to Riley’s hand and wrapped the cloth around it. “Here, hold this to your chest. Mom, do you have some ibuprofen around the place?”

“Bathroom cabinet, first shelf.”

“I’ll get it,” Seb grumbled, before taking the stairs two at a time.

Riley collapsed back onto the couch, his hand cradled to his body.

“So when are you meeting her?” Tate asked.

“Tomorrow,” Riley answered, keeping his eyes closed. “At the park. Neutral ground.”

“I’ve told him all of us will go if he wants us to,” Joan said, placing a hand on Riley’s shoulder.

“Absolutely, man,” Tate affirmed. “If you need us, we’ll be there.”

Riley nodded. “I appreciate it.”

“Is she going to bring Noah?” Hearing the little boy’s name now tightened a part of Riley that, until that moment, he didn’t know he had. He felt heat, adoration, and a protectiveness so ferocious he could almost taste it. It was something he wouldn’t even attempt to put into words, but it was something that meant everything else
in the world now meant exactly shit. Everything except for Noah.
Noah.
His small, smiling face flitted behind Riley’s eyelids, all hazel eyes and button nose.

Christ, he was beautiful.

“I asked her to,” Riley answered finally as Seb came back down the stairs and placed two pills next to the glass of Coke. “Whether she will is another story.”

“You need to go to the ER,” Tate said, pulling an edge of the cloth down to look again at Riley’s hand.

Riley shook his head limply from side to side. “I sat in a hospital for three hours today. Fuck doing that again. It’ll be fine.” He groaned in annoyance when Tate began to argue. “Listen, Doc, if it’s swollen tomorrow, I’ll go. Okay?”

The four of them were quiet for a while before Joan stood. “How about I make us all something to eat?”

Seb and Tate both offered words of gratitude, but Riley’s stomach grumbled in distaste. “I’m good,” he said, sitting forward, grabbing the pills and knocking them back with a swig from the glass. “I’m gonna go and lie down for a while.”

His brothers and mother stood around him, looking for all the world as though they were waiting for him to go off like a damned rocket again, but Riley could barely lift his head. The adrenaline had waned dramatically, leaving his body weak and his bones weary. His brain was now groggy and slow and, though he wouldn’t say a word about it to Tate, his hand was hurting like a motherfucker.

Still holding it to his chest, Riley glanced at the dent he’d put in the wall. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he offered guiltily. “I shouldn’t have—That was stupid. I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

Joan approached him and cupped his cheek. “Don’t you worry, honey.” She kissed the corner of his mouth gently. “It’s been a hell of a day. Call down if you need anything.”

He nodded and dipped his chin to each of his brothers before heading up the stairs to his bedroom. He closed the door with a gentle kick, toed off his shoes, and crawled onto the bed. It was only then, in the relative quiet of his room, that he allowed his tears free.

He’d broken his damned knuckle.

Through the night, Riley tossed, turned, and took more pain pills before, ready to rip the fucking thing from the socket, he knocked Tate awake to get his professional opinion. One slight press of the knuckle and Riley was cursing a blue streak while Tate got dressed to drive him to the hospital. The good news was that it was fixable without a cast or surgery.

Nevertheless, the idea of having his two middle fingers strapped together for the next three weeks did not improve his mood one iota. He felt stupid and embarrassed on top of being bone tired.

“Stop picking,” Tate scolded with a swipe at Riley’s curious fingers as they fussed with the tape on his hand.

“Leave me be,” Riley grunted, holding his hands out of Tate’s reach. “You should be focused on the road.”

With Seb leaving that evening, he’d gone with Joan to the hospital to spend some time with their dad. Hell, at least the news there was good. Park was being moved from HDU to a regular room, which also came with whispers about his possible release if he continued to show improvement.

Riley was pretty bummed about Seb’s departure, especially in light of the bombshell that was dropped the day before, but his little brother had promised he’d try to get back to Michigan as soon as he was able. Riley didn’t want to think about when Tate would have to leave, too. Who knew he could be so needy?

Anxious about his own job, Riley called Max to check in. He didn’t
tell his buddy the news, because shit, he was still trying to come to terms with that himself, but he was relieved to hear all was well with the shop. Max assured him that he was welcome to take all the time he needed when Riley explained that his stay in Michigan could roll on for another couple of weeks. He told Riley he was loving the fact that he had an excuse to keep Grace in New York with him—rather than her being in her hometown in West Virginia—while she worked on her next photography project.

Hearing his friend gush about his girl should have warmed Riley, just as it had every other time Max spoke about Grace, but now it stung his exhausted heart, and that was fucked up considering what Max had been through to find her. Why couldn’t life be fucking simple?

It took Riley a moment to notice that Tate was pulling into the lot at the back of the park. As it was Sunday afternoon and the sun was baking the place, the park teemed with people and their kids.
Kids.
Riley hadn’t thought about having kids for years. Of course, he’d thought about having kids with Lexie, but under very different circumstances.

Panic began to take a stronger hold.

What if Lexie
did
bring Noah? What the hell would Riley say to him—
Hey, kid, I’m your daddy, wanna play Star Wars games?
He smiled a little, remembering Noah’s love for the lightsaber he’d hunted down in the Disney store and the balloon he’d had tied to his small wrist. Actually, that sounded kind of perfect for the little guy.

Maybe he should have brought something to give him.

The car engine turning off brought Riley’s attention back to the moment. He inhaled and rubbed a sweating palm across his forehead. Tate stayed silent at his side, and Riley was nothing but grateful. No words could calm him down anyway. “Okay,” he muttered
to himself before opening the car door and getting out. He pulled his Ray-Bans from the pocket of his cargo shorts and put them on, cursing his sore hand as he did.

“I’ll just be at Mom’s. You call if you need me, okay?” Tate said over the roof of the car.

Riley looked out to the park, spotting Lexie immediately, his gaze drawn to her like a magnet. She was alone. Riley didn’t know whether to be relieved or thrilled. “Thanks, man.”

Tate nodded and climbed back into the car as Riley set off, keeping his eyes firmly on Lexie. The fact that she looked incredible boiled Riley’s blood further. Her hair was up, which had always been his favorite look on her. She wore a skirt, black flip-flops, and a
Sons of Anarchy
vest top that showed off her amazing ink. Stars, planets, flowers, and her father’s name littered the top part of her arms, like a map of her life, and it was incredibly sexy.

How unfair was it that he was still so attracted to her? He sighed. How unfair was it that he was still so in love with her? He stutter-stepped as that thought hit.
Jesus.
What the
hell
did that mean and, more importantly, did it even matter? Would it even change anything? He doubted that and, unable to process it, he shook off the thought. His brain was already too stuffed to deal with that shit and, right now, he needed to be on point.

He approached the tree Lexie was standing under. Glancing around, Riley realized they were far enough away from everyone else to have a modicum of privacy. He stopped in front of her, his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth in an effort to keep calm. To her credit, she looked as nervous as he felt. She fidgeted and shifted where she stood, smiling small. “Hey.”

Riley sighed, battling between the urge to shake her stupid for being so selfish and thoughtless and his desire to sit with her in the shade of the tree and talk like they used to. He decided to hell with the pleasantries.
“I’m here to talk about Noah,” he said, noticing Lexie’s wince as he spoke.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. She lifted a hand, gesturing behind him. “He’s over there with Savannah.”

Looking over his shoulder to see the little boy playing on the climbing frame whipped every word straight from Riley’s mind. Everything he’d wanted to throw at Lex, accuse her of, evaporated, leaving him standing there like an asshole, watching his son, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sadness swept through him with the realization that he’d missed too many firsts, too many times when Noah would have done something and Riley should have been present.

“Why?” he whispered, turning back to Lexie. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried so many times,” she answered, her voice faltering. “When I first discovered I was pregnant, I picked up the phone to call you. I actually dialed the number, but no one answered.”

Riley gradually did the math in his head. “Was that June?” Lexie nodded, and Riley’s stomach plummeted. “I was in Kill.”

“Yeah. I found out from my mom, who’d heard about your sentence.”

Riley crossed his arms, hating that his stupid choices had affected something else important in his life. “When’s Noah’s birthday?”

“February fifteenth.”

“Why didn’t you call me when I was released if you knew?”

“I thought about it—”

“Fucking
thought
about it?” Riley snapped.