Hard Knox - Riley Hart Page 0,29

reverence. His nails were painted black, which was a first. Well, for me. I’d never seen him with painted nails before. It struck me suddenly how strong he was, how confident. I hadn’t noticed any other adult men in Havenwood painting their nails or wearing the eye stuff, yet Callum was who he was and didn’t care. It was one of my favorite things about him.

Finally, I replied, “Yeah, I did. Keeps me busy.” I walked over and joined him. “When I was a kid, we had a tree like this behind our property. My dad built a tree house in it. He wasn’t good with words. It was always just the two of us—my mom passed away when I was little—and I knew he loved me, but he was very much the real-men-don’t-talk-about-their-feelings type. Never in a hateful way. If I’d ever tried to talk to him, I knew he would have tried to listen, but he wouldn’t have gotten the why of it, ya know? It didn’t make sense to him.”

“People are nuanced. They’re rarely one thing or another—hateful or good, talkative or not. Your dad probably learned that from his parents, or maybe it’s simply how he was built.”

“Exactly.” Somehow, I knew he’d get it. “Anyway, this tree house. I built it with him. I think I felt closer to my dad than I ever had, when we made it. I felt like I was his equal, if that makes sense. I was one of the guys, and we were building our tree house. Sounds stupid, I’m sure.”

He nudged me with his hip. “No, it doesn’t. Go on.”

“I don’t really know the point of my story. Maybe that I loved building that tree house with my dad.” I paused, thought. “And I guess maybe, when I found out I was having a son, I saw me and Logan doing stuff like that together? And maybe we will. When he first came here, he told me he wanted to work with me in the barn, but now I’m seeing it was more that he felt like he should want to, or maybe to try and prove wrong the kids who teased him. He might want to, or maybe he won’t, and that’s okay too. Again, it’s not like that. I want him to be happy and healthy and comfortable in his skin, but…I want him to always feel as comfortable with me as I did when I built that tree house with my dad. I want to bond with him over something that’s just ours, more than it being a certain kind of activity. We have the model planes, but that’s it. I don’t want him to look back and only have one memory like that, the way I do.”

Holy shit. I couldn’t believe I’d said all that. I didn’t even know where it had come from. It was true, and I knew I felt it, but the thought of sharing that with someone had never been there.

“You will,” Callum replied softly.

“You think so?” I found myself asking. Christ, I was embarrassed I’d said that, but I didn’t want to take it back either. I needed to hear that, and for whatever reason, I trusted it coming from him.

“I know so.” He did the hip-nudge thing again. “You’re doing well by him. You’re working hard to change patterns you learned from your dad. You’re making sure your son knows his worth doesn’t depend on doing typically masculine things. My dad would have never done that.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. “I mean, about your dad. That had to be hard.”

“It’s over now. I don’t have anything to do with him, and I think that’s fine by both of us. You with your dad?”

“He passed away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“We keep saying that to each other.”

“Well, I have one more thing to say: you’re pretty good at this talking thing, Knox. You said you weren’t, and I don’t think you see it, but you are.”

With him. I didn’t know why, but it was easier with Callum. It was as if he’d cast some spell over both me and Logan. “Eh, you’re a good listener, I guess.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the table.

“Now you’re just trying to prove me wrong.” He playfully rolled his eyes. He had the black stuff on those again too. Eyeliner, I thought it was called. “It’s beautiful—the tree. All your work is, but this one especially. You can see the love