43

sebastian

 

“This has got to be the most elaborate scheme to get some pussy ever,” Greg muttered, sidling up beside me with a glass of eggnog in hand. “And by the way, man, this eggnog is out of this freakin’ world. You made this stuff?”

“I was up all fucking night making that shit,” I grumbled, kneeling in front of the tree. “And for the millionth time, it’s not a scheme.”

“If she turns you down after all of this, I’d say you’re officially on her shit list,” Matt chuckled against the rim of his glass.

I shook my head as I twisted one of the burnt-out, multicolored lights. Whoever said putting lights on a tree was a good idea was obviously high as a fucking kite, because it truly was a special kind of torture, trying to get them all to stay lit and all at the same time.

“Hell, if she turns you down after all of this, she should be on your shit list,” Steve chimed in from the couch.

“Oh my God,” Jen groaned, swatting at Steve’s arm. “Can you guys just leave him alone?”

“And can we please remember that she’s here?” Dinah tacked on in a whispered growl.

For months, my brothers-in-law had teased me for buying the old Worthington house in Hog fucking Hill. Although I’d successfully recruited them to help move my crap, they couldn’t understand why I’d want to pack up and leave the house I’d been living in for sixteen years, seemingly at the drop of a hat. They immediately assumed it was to win Tabby over, to show her that I was willing to go the distance to get her back, and sure, that was a big part of it.

But it was only a bonus.

Because, even though I loved her and there was no way in Hell I was ever going to stop, I bought this house for Greyson. Apart from the time spent on the road, I didn’t want to go another day without seeing him, and the only way to accomplish that was to move closer to him. I wanted to keep him in his school, to keep him close to everything he’d ever known and to bring the members of his family closer together. Because above everything else, I loved him, and when you love someone, you do what’s best for them.

And for Greyson, that was this: a father and a mother figure who loved him, a dog to chill with, a big fucking family to call his own. It was not only the life I knew he wanted, but the life he deserved.

The life I would’ve given him from the very beginning, had I been given the chance.

I twisted the light again and the entire strand went out. “Son of a bitch.”

“You know, we have this thing at our house that basically repairs those stupid little shits,” Greg commented, kneeling beside me. “I mean, I have Jen handle these things, so I never have to worry about them, but she says it works pretty well.”

“Wow, Greg, that’s fucking awesome, man. Hey, did you happen to bring it with you?” I turned to face him.

“Uh,” his jaw shifted uncomfortably before he met my eyes again, “let’s pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

Greyson ran into the living room with Travis and Johnny on his heels. “Hey, Dad?”

“What’s up, dude?” I stood up, resigning myself to having only a partially lit tree and making a mental note to get one of those gadgets Greg was talking about.

“Can we go jam in the basement? I wanna show Trav and Johnny your drums.”

Every one of my brothers-in-law eyed each other with dread at the mention of drums. I felt their pain. Three teenaged boys, two of which didn’t know what the hell they were doing, beating on the skins sounded like the worst idea on the planet, even to me.

I put my hands on my hips and chuckled. “Uh … Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Grey threw his head back dramatically. “Oh, come on, Dad. It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah? Is there a point you’re trying to make here, or …?” I shrugged and raised a brow.

Countering with an equal amount of disbelief as I was using on him, he shot me with an exhausted glare. “Jesus would’ve wanted it this way. I mean, you know the little drummer boy?”

The corners of my mouth lifted with reluctant amusement. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

Johnny and Travis flanked Greyson, their newly adopted ring leader, as he continued, “Well, the little drummer boy didn’t have a, uh, a gift to bring him, right? So, he played his drums—”

“Drum,” Jen interjected helpfully. “He only had one drum, Grey.”

“Thanks, Aunt Jen,” Grey nodded gratefully, pointing his finger at my sister. “Okay, so he played his drum for Jesus as a birthday present, so we were thinking that it’d be an awesome way to celebrate the birth of Christ by also playing drums. Except we have a lot of them, so really, it’s a better present.”

I bobbed my head, as if considering his argument while quelling my urge to laugh. “You know, I hear you, but, uh, yeah, still not happening.”

My son groaned as disappointment overshadowed the excitement in Johnny and Travis’ eyes. “Why not?” Grey asked, his brows lowering to darken his eyes.

“Well,” I reached an arm out to wrap around his shoulders, “there’s a few reasons. One,” I held up a finger, “Jesus is a pretty old guy, so I think he’d probably just like to spend his birthday taking a nap. Two,” I held up another, “dinner’s gonna be on the table in about two seconds. And three,” another finger, “and this is probably the most important of them all—I’m not entirely convinced that basement isn’t a meeting ground for ghosts. Got some weird fucking vibes down there the other night, man, and I really don’t wanna use you as the sacrificial lamb, you know what I’m saying?”

Greyson’s tired expression grew even more impatient. “There aren’t any ghosts in the basement, Dad,” he drawled.

I steered him from the living room and toward the dining room, where Tabby was helping Mel to lay out the dishes and utensils. “Yeah, well, you can be sure about that if you want, but I’m not so convinced. So, no drums today, and instead, you can help your aunts set the table. How’s that for a deal?”

“Whatever,” he grumbled in reply, but his argument stopped there as he set out to place forks at every chair.

Tabby’s eyes met mine as one side her mouth lifted into a smile. “You need any more help in the kitchen?”

“Nah, my parents have it covered.” I returned the smile, stuffing my hands into my pockets. From the corner of my eye, I caught Mel’s hopeful glance in our direction.

Tabby nodded. “Okay. Um, can I do anything else?”

There was a laundry list of things I could’ve given her. Move in with me, marry me, give me another kid or three … but I wasn’t pushing my luck just yet.

“Nah, I’ve got this covered,” I replied with a confident grin, because you know what? I did. All of it.

I’ve got this.

 

***

 

“You guys can crash here tonight, if you don’t wanna drive back this late,” I offered my parents as we headed into the living room to collect their coats.

“You say that, but you really don’t want us getting in your way,” Dad replied with a wink, darting a suggestive glare in Tabby’s direction. “You better seal this deal, or else you’re out of the will. Greyson will get everything we’re leaving you, you got it?”

“Wow. Harsh,” I grumbled, watching as my mother leaned over Greyson, sleeping on the couch, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

He stirred, opening his eyes to narrow slits. Muttering something incoherent, Mom smiled, smoothing her palm over his cheek. “We’re heading home, sweetheart.”

Greyson nodded sleepily. “Bye, Grandma. See you soon.”

I chewed at the corner of my lip, breathing through a wave of tear-inducing emotion. Moments like this did it for me—the use of titles, the little pieces that pushed us closer to becoming even more of a family.

Mom beamed with joy and kissed him again before straightening up and touching my gaze with hers. She flattened her palms to her chest as she walked toward me, outstretching her arms and pulling me in for a hug.

“Have I ever told you how proud I am of the man you’ve become?”

Shit. I swallowed relentlessly at another wave and buried my face against her shoulder. “Nope, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”

“Well, you’re hearing it now.” She ran her fingers over the back of my head and turned to kiss my cheek. “I love you, honey. Take care of that boy of yours.”

“Will do.” I nodded, standing up and stepping back to wipe at my eyes. “Love you too, Mom. Give me a call when you get home.”

Dad approached me with an extended hand, and when I accepted his firm grip, he pulled me in for a hug and a pat on the back. “Your first holiday was a success, kiddo. Kinda can’t believe you didn’t burn the house down.”

“Eh, T wouldn’t let that happen. That old dude’s too attached to let this place go down in flames,” I scoffed, shooting an incredulous glare at Tabby and she burst with a melodic giggle. I drowned in that sound, and I hoped it’d never stop.

“Who’s T?” Dad asked, stepping back and squeezing my hand.

“Oh, just the ghost of Jane’s dead husband,” I replied nonchalantly, waving my hand dismissively in the air.

“Huh. Right. Well, we’ll call as soon as we’re back with the piggies. God, they’re going to be so angry with us for leaving them home alone …” He tipped his head toward Mom, eyeing her with worry, and she nodded sympathetically.

They turned to Tabby with hopeful grins and wistful eyes. I saw in them every wish I had left. For her to take me back, for her to be mine. To recognize that what we had wasn’t something to question, but something to accept as being right.

“Merry Christmas, Tabby,” Mom said, pulling her into an encompassing hug. “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“Me too,” Tabby spoke quietly against Mom’s shoulder. Squeezing her and sighing. “Get home safe.

Dad was next to wrap his arms around her. “Give him a chance,” he said, a little too loudly and I groaned, shaking my head.

“Thanks a lot, Dad. Now she’s onto my master plan,” I groused with a stony glare in his direction.

Tabby laughed, kissing my father on the cheek. “We’ll see,” she whispered, but loud enough for me to also hear. “Merry Christmas.”

My parents left with encouraging glances in my direction before closing the door behind them. And then, Tabby and I were alone, save for Greyson and Dweezil sleeping on the couch. I sucked in a breath of determination and bravery, as I crossed the living room to grab a blanket, laying it over Greyson and smoothing the hair off his forehead.

“You touch him like he’s a baby,” Tabby commented gently, coming to stand beside me.

I had never thought about it like that before, catching my fingers as they delicately brushed over his hairline. “I guess because, for me, he kinda is. I missed out on that shit, you know?”

Tabby worried her lower lip between her teeth and nodded with understanding. “Yeah, I know,” she whispered, and then she took my hand. “Come on. I have a present for you.”

I let her lead me from the living room before I asked, “Is it a blowjob?”

Looking over her shoulder, she huffed with exasperation. “Not that kind of present.”

Before I could express my disappointment, we were in the backroom, the room I would always consider Sandy’s room, now cluttered with boxes and things needing to be put away. Tabby released my hand to grab a small wrapped gift from a pile of boxes.

“I hid it in here when we were unwrapping gifts earlier. I thought you’d prefer to open it in private,” she explained, and my lips lifted into a suggestive grin.

“Is it a picture of you, naked? Because, Thumbelina, I would really appreciate the fuck out of that.”

Rolling her eyes, she bit her bottom lip before saying, “Maybe one day, but that’s—”

My brows jumped to my hairline. “Whoa. You didn’t say no.”

“Just open the damn present,” she pressed impatiently with a light giggle. “Then we’ll talk.”

Taking a deep breath, I sat down on a spare drum throne. “Okay, let’s see what we have in here,” I muttered, tearing the corner to reveal a hint of baby blue, and I froze. My throat worked, my jaw shifted, and I looked back to Tabby with hesitation. She nodded, urging me to continue, and I tore the paper from the glass window.

An immediate rush of tears flooded my eyes at the sight of a tiny baby boy, swaddled in blue, with a little cap on his head. His eyes were closed, and I imagined I could hear him breathing. I imagined I could smell the new scent of his skin, could feel the fragile knuckles of every tiny finger. I imagined that I knew what it was like to hold him in the crook of my arm, the way I’d hold Devin’s Olivia, except Greyson was mine. To cherish. To protect.

“He, uh … he was such a good baby,” Tabby said, filling the space with something other than the sound of my running nose and dripping eyes. “He loved to cuddle, and was one of those rare babies that slept through the night. Sam used to think there was something wrong with him because he was so freakishly good, until he was a toddler and all Hell broke loose.”

I laughed, nodding through my breakdown. “Talk to my mom. Supposedly I was a real asshole when I was three.”

“Oh, I can only imagine.”

“Thank you,” I said hoarsely, gripping the picture frame between shaking hands. “For this. This is probably the best fucking present you could’ve ever given me.”

She moved toward me, and a flash of déjà vu struck me from that night in my drum studio. The time she had first kissed me. But tonight there was no music playing, there was no urgent desperation to feed on her passion. All there was, was the searing, throbbing knowledge that this wasn’t an it just is situation. It never was. It was my salvation, her freedom—it was everything.

“Sebastian, I never wanted to get into real estate. It wasn’t like, this dream of mine to sell houses. But when Sam got pregnant, I felt so much pressure to be the good daughter, and to be a stable figure in Greyson’s life. So, I forced myself to change. I went to college, I got this boring fucking job that I turned out being pretty good at, and I met a guy I cared for who never felt entirely right.”

I shook my head, lowering the frame to my lap. “I already know this shit, Tabby. You don’t need to explain it to me.”

She held a hand out and I closed my lips. “It was so fucking exhausting being someone I was never comfortable with. But I’d just look at my sister and think, well, that’s the alternative. And then, when she died, I just …” She looked off, beyond me, her bottom lip trembling. “I just couldn’t figure out what purpose a life like that has in the world, you know? Working these menial jobs, screwing men for fun, jumping from apartment to apartment, and mooching off people … all for it to end, leaving behind a fucking mess for someone else to clean up.”

The tremoring anger in her voice stabbed at my heart, at my lungs, until my hands clenched tightly around the painted wood frame. It was all I had, all I could do, to keep myself from reaching out and pulling her to me.

“I loved her. I loved her so goddamn much, and the amount of anger I felt toward her was … God, it was crushing, because I think I kinda saw it coming, you know? The road she was on, it felt like it could’ve only led there, and then, when I met you …” She laughed without an iota of humor. “You were exactly who I envisioned her being with, and you were exactly what I didn’t want you to be. This cocky, obnoxious asshole who didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.” I smirked morosely and dropped my gaze to the picture of baby Greyson. “But while you were everything I had hoped you wouldn’t be, you were also everything that Greyson needed, and it’s taken me all this time to realize you’re also exactly what I need.”

I brought my gaze to hers. “So, does that mean you’re sorry you called me a man-child?”

Tabby laughed with a subtle shake of her head, as one hand reached out to brush over my cheek. “It means I’m sorry I walked away. And that I thought I couldn’t be with you because of some stupid job. And that you thought you had to cut your fucking hair to win me over. Because I really do love your hair when it’s long.”

Throwing my head back, I reached out, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her to stand between my thighs. “Oh, thank you, baby Jesus. I miss my hair so goddamn much.”

Tabby laughed, and I pressed my cheek against her chest as I held her in my arms. “Apology accepted, Thumbelina. You can say it now,” I muttered breathlessly, listening to the sound of her booming heart.

“Say what?” she asked, threading her fingers through the hair I was never cutting that short again.

“That you love me, that you’ll move in here and save me from the ghosts, that you’ll let me give you everything you want, that you’ll never let me stop.” She bent to kiss the top of my head and whispered something I didn’t quite hear. I pulled away from her chest to narrow my gaze at her bitten lips and soulful eyes, and asked, “What was that?”  

Unraveling my arms from her waist, she took my hands and led me out of the room. “I want to see your haunted bedroom.”

“That’s definitely not what you just said,” I said pointedly, smirking with excitement for what I knew was coming. She pulled me toward the bottom of the staircase. “And whatever you have going on in that head of yours, I’m not sure T’s really gonna appreciate it. He may or may not be a little old-fashioned.”

“Well,” she whispered, stepping onto the first step and leaning forward to lightly brush her lips over mine, “you’ll just have to tell your ghost buddy to close his eyes.”