Catching the Cowboy (Circle B Ranch #2) - Kennedy Fox Page 0,64
hope she still gives me a chance after all this.
I feel uneasy as I drive to Chelsea’s apartment. I’ve never felt this level of anxiety before, but it’s like my mind can’t stop racing, and my heart is pumping in overdrive. I’ve been living in the twilight zone ever since Laurel showed up, but when I pull into the complex with brick buildings and neat hedges, I know I have to do this.
I park, wondering if this is the right decision, but my mama raised me better than to be a coward. My conscience couldn’t handle not stepping up, and running away from my problems isn’t a way to solve them. Not to mention, if she does need help supporting my son, I want to contribute any way I can.
After a deep breath, I get out of the car and walk down the sidewalk until I see her duplex. I take the stairs two at a time, and when I get to her door, I hesitate for a moment. I can hear cartoons playing and child’s laughter on the other side. Sucking in another breath, I tap on the door.
The handle jiggles, and the hard wood swings open. Our eyes meet for the first time in three years.
“Diesel,” she gasps, then swallows hard. “W-what are you doing here?” she stutters, looking around until she realizes I’m alone.
“I’m askin’ myself the same question,” I say honestly.
Her brows furrow, but she keeps her voice in a hushed tone. “How’d you get my address?”
“Laurel found me.”
“Fuck,” she whisper-hisses. “I told her to stay out of this.” Chelsea looks over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back, sweetie,” she says before stepping outside, but leaving the door cracked open.
“Look.” I keep my voice as calm as I can. “She told me about Dawson. I felt it was my duty to come here and see for myself. If he’s my kid, it’s my right to know.”
Her face softens, and she looks up at the sky, releasing a slow breath. Tears well on the rims of her eyes, and she tries to play it off, but I notice her wiping her cheeks.
“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. Laurel has Dawson’s and your best interest in mind. She cares about you, but I gotta admit, you’ve got a lot of explainin’ to do.” I pause briefly until our eyes meet. “Like why it wasn’t you tellin’ me.”
Chelsea looks around as if she doesn’t want any of her neighbors to hear us. “Would you like to come in?”
Shaking my head, I rub my palms down my jeans. This whole situation is making me sweat.
Chelsea gives me a small smile and tilts her head toward the inside of her apartment. “I think it’s time you met your son, Diesel.”
My mouth falls open, and I lick my dry lips. “Okay,” I muster, but my emotions are going haywire, a convoluted internal mess.
She opens the door, stepping aside for me to enter. I see my son sitting on the couch with a toy tractor in his hand, watching TV. He smiles at me but has no idea who I am.
“Hi,” he says in a small voice. When he grins, an overwhelming amount of joy and fear rushes through me. I’m his dad. Holy fuck.
“Hey,” I say, then look back at Chelsea who’s standing with her hands in her pocket, but she seems happy. She nods for me to move closer to him, so I do. “What kinda toy do you have there?”
“This is my favorite tractor,” he says, raising it up high where I can see it better. Then he waves it proudly, giggling as he hands it to me.
I sit down next to him on the couch, angling my body toward his. “You know, I have one like this at my house. A real one. A big green John Deere.”
“You do?” he asks with wide eyes.
“Yep. I have lots of tractors actually.” I pause briefly, then continue, “Maybe I can show you someday?”
He smiles when I hand it back.
“Yeah!” he shouts loudly, causing Chelsea and me to laugh. “I’m thirsty.”
I swallow hard, not sure how to interact with a two-and-a-half-year-old. This feels like some weird reality show, and I’m waiting for Ashton Kutcher to come out and say “You just got punk’d!” But now that I see Dawson, as scary as it sounds, a part of me wants it to be true.
Chelsea walks into the kitchen, then returns with a sippy cup of water and hands it to Dawson.