“Hell, I’m the one who’s nervous,” he mumbled, not used to the feeling at all.
“Come tomorrow night. I’m biased, but Miles is a fabulous person. He’s smart and fun and he’s going to love you. He nearly passed out after meeting Erin yesterday.”
As it was designed to, it made him feel better. “I’ll be here at six.”
“It’s a Friday night so you might have plans, but if you don’t, and if you wanted to . . . we have a guest room and you’re welcome to it. The ferry is great and there’s always the bridge and driving around, but when it’s late, it’s late.” She shrugged and he caught her blush.
“I’ll see you tomorrow with my pajamas packed. We’ll play it by ear, as they say. But I’m . . . well, I’m grateful to you for sticking this out even when I was a total dick.”
“Try not to be one tomorrow and I might forgive you.”
He didn’t wipe that stupid grin off his face for hours.
Gillian looked at her son across the table. “So, I need to talk to you about something important.”
He paused momentarily in between giant shoveling bites to give her his attention.
She hoped she managed to do this with a minimum of scarring.
“I turned in all my homework, I swear. I did get a C minus on my math test.”
She made a mental note to scare him into confessing things more often. “No, not that. Though I’m glad to hear about the homework, not so much about the math test.” She took a deep breath and forged ahead. “You remember the test you had to take? The DNA test?”
He put his fork down and wiped his mouth, all his attention on her.
“We found your father, Miles. I’ve met him and he’d like to meet you. Would you like that?”
The line between his eyes deepened as he thought. “Well . . . what do you think? What’s he like? Will I have to go live with him?”
She got up and moved to sit next to him, hugging him tight. “Miles, I am your mother. Period. You live here with me. This is our house. I never would have sought him out if I wasn’t totally sure my rights as your mum were protected.”
He swallowed hard and nodded, brightening enough to shove half a dinner roll into his face. “ ’Kay then. So what’s he like?”
“He’s a musician.” She snorted a laugh.
“Oh my . . .
dude
! It’s Adrian Brown. That’s why Erin was here.” He jumped up. “Are you kidding me?
Mum!
”
She laughed and took his hand. “How’d you know?”
“Isabel, you remember her? She said I looked like him and then all the other girls, they said it too.”
A year ago, he’d have said it with mild disinterest. Now, well, now he thought it was pretty cool, she could tell.
“It’s not every day awesome rock-star bass players just come over for tea and biscuits. I can put it together. Anyway, why’d he bail for so long?”
“He didn’t know. I told you, Tina only finally admitted who the dad was in the hospital. I had to track him down. I don’t know him that well, but I do know he’s really excited about you.”
“Yeah? I guess that’d be all right. Here, right? With you around?”
He looked very young just then, vulnerable, and she vowed that should Adrian Brown ever harm her baby, she would cut his bollocks off with a rusty fork.
“I thought it would be fun, and sort of you know, low key, if we made pizza. He could come over and make them with us. Would that work for you? I’ll be here the whole time,” she added at his questioning look.
Admittedly, she felt a little better. She didn’t know what she thought. That’d he’d see the shiny daddy who is a rich rock star and perhaps forget about her? Petty and silly, but it had been a worry, albeit a very small one.
“You’ll stay? For the whole time?”
“Of course. Look, if you don’t feel ready, that’s okay too. We can start out with a phone call or two, or even some letters and e-mails. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I think pizza could be all right. As long as you’re here.”
“Definitely.”
7
Adrian juggled the photo album, a bottle of wine and the box of cupcakes to raise his hand enough to ring the bell. A bicycle was parked against the side of the house.
His son’s bicycle.
Before he could have a panic attack over it, Gillian opened the door and took his breath away. Her hair was in a high ponytail. She wore an argyle sweater of all things, but holy shit she filled it out. Couldn’t see any skin other than at her wrists and yet she looked ridiculously sexy anyway. Black pants hugged her legs and led to bare feet with deep red toenails.
She wore glasses and absolutely no makeup. And she was hotter than the sun.
“Hi, Adrian. Come in. We’re in the kitchen.” She took the bakery box and he followed her through the house and found himself in the kitchen, face-to-face with his son.
“Adrian, this is Miles. Miles, this is Adrian Brown.”
Miles looked as nervous as Adrian felt. He’d asked Brody’s opinion as to whether he should hug the boy. Elise had urged him to just let Miles lead. To be open and affectionate, but to respect the boy’s space and also his nervousness.
“Hey.” Miles tipped his chin and Adrian tipped his back, only with a grin. One the boy mimicked and sent a shock of recognition through him.
“Hey yourself. Big week, huh?”
Gillian laughed, taking the wine and the photo album, making sure he saw where she’d placed it on a nearby table.
“Okay, Adrian, we’re rolling out dough and cutting up toppings. Do you have a preference?” The take-charge way Gillian spoke seemed to calm Miles down as it did Adrian.
“I’ll wash up.” He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and caught Gillian looking. She blushed and turned her attention back to the island where Miles was shredding cheese.
Well now.
Forearms? Guitar playing had given him decent ones, he supposed, looking at them as he scrubbed his hands.
He turned and took the towel she held out.
“I’m a good hand with dough rolling. I worked at an Italian restaurant for two years back in the day.”
“Nice!” She pointed at the balls of dough covered with a cloth. “There they are. Pans are oiled and there’s a dusting of cornmeal on them.”
He began to work, letting the simplicity of the moment and what they were doing roll over him. “So, Miles, I just wanted to tell you how proud I am to be your father. I apologize for not being in your life before this. But I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”
Miles looked up from the cheese and then over to his mother before nodding. “Okay.”
“What’s your favorite subject in school?” He had to get to know his kid sometime; it seemed good to start with the easy stuff.
“Science.”
Gillian moved around with quiet efficiency, slicing onions and mushrooms. She poured a glass of juice and put it at Miles’s side. Miles leaned his head over toward her, touching her just briefly. She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment and while that easy intimacy reminded him of how he had lost out on thirteen years of Miles’s life, he also found himself comforted by it.
“Adrian, would you like juice? Water? Beer? Wine?”
He paused, not knowing. He’d brought wine, but he didn’t want his son to think he was some drunken rock star.
“Why don’t you start with some juice and we can have wine with dinner? Does that work?” She poured herself a glass and he nodded, grateful.
“Thanks.”
“What was
your
favorite subject in school?” Miles surprised him by asking.
“History. I still love it.”
“What period?”
“All of it really, but I have a soft spot for American history. Especially’round the end of the nineteenth, beginning of the twentieth century.”
“Industrial revolution.”
Adrian let his breath out and grinned. “Yeah. What about you? You like history?”
Their conversation wasn’t deeply emotional. It was, well, rather like the conversations he had with Rennie, only thirteen-year-old boys were definitely not as chatty as a ten-year-old girl.
They ate pizza and salad and devoured a few cupcakes.
“I just remembered I need to call a client to check on something. I’ll be right back. Adrian, that photo album you brought is on the table there.”
She ducked from the room and Miles eyed him warily.
“I thought you’d maybe like to see your family. The other side of it, I mean. Your aunts and uncles and cousins. They’re all very excited to meet you.” Adrian opened the first page to pictures of the Brown kids and smiled.
“Is that you?” Miles scooted closer to peer at the page.
“Yeah. Me, my sister Erin and our older brother Brody.” Adrian brushed a fingertip over the three of them, frozen forever, mid-cheese for the camera. Erin had a big smile, her mouth full of perfect teeth. Adrian’s grin had plenty of missing teeth, though. “It was a summer trip to . . . your grandpa’s hometown. Cleveland, Ohio.”
Miles raised one brow. “I went to Cleveland two years ago. Youth jazz band competition. It was all right. Hot though.”
“Jazz band, huh?” Adrian turned the page. “Me too.” He pointed at a picture of him in black slacks with a white dress shirt. Hair too long. Holding the guitar Brody had bribed him with. “Never went out of state though. I hear from your aunt that you play bass. Sheesh, boy, she’s already insufferable about her bass thing. You couldn’t play guitar instead?”
Miles’s laugh felt like victory to Adrian.
They continued to go through the book, page by page, as Adrian filled in a rough sketch of his life. Miles asked more questions as the time went by.
And that’s how Gillian found them when she returned nearly an hour later. Oh, she’d stood at her office door and peeked at them, had watched to be sure Miles was all right. And he was. He’d warmed up considerably to Adrian and that was a big relief.
It made her warm to see them, to see this man love her son,
their
son, in his own easy way. Miles had plenty of men in his life with Ryan and Cal, but this was different.
Miles licked his lips a few times, the way he did with her when he wanted to ask a question he wasn’t sure of the answer to. She sat across from them, waiting for him to speak.
“So, um, you wanna see my room? My bass?”
Adrian’s gaze cut to hers and it was so surprised and touched, she couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
Miles grinned and hopped up and they left the room, Miles chattering as he landed on a topic he loved so much.
She sat back and let out a long breath. She’d always had a vision of how her family would be. Always wanted normalcy and stability. And she’d ended up a single, unmarried mother. At first glance it looked like what her own mother had been, and that had left her shaken. But once she’d dug down a few layers, she realized there were far more differences than similarities.
She pushed from the couch and headed into the kitchen. Above her, she heard the tromping of both males and then shortly thereafter, the thud of the bass being played.
The kitchen was a mess, so it gave her something to do while Miles and Adrian were upstairs, wanting them to mix and mingle, happy they seemed to be making a success of it.
Adrian Brown was nothing like she’d imagined.
He was without a doubt the most compelling man she’d ever met. He exuded charisma without trying. His allure was that he was a refreshingly complicated man. He looked like the star he was. She sighed, thinking about his voice. Every sentence had its own sort of flow. It was, she thought with an amused and slightly horrified snort, like being hypnotized.
He could walk into any room and instantly grab everyone’s attention. His hair, so sexy and tousled. Browns with the occasional auburn hue, it hung to his shoulders, framing a face that had featured itself in no less than three masturbation sessions since that kiss in her hallway.