Pops lets out a huff of disbelief. “Who the hell are you anymore? It’s like I don’t even recognize the man in front of me.”

  My shoulders hunch at his words. If I could crawl into a hole right now to hide from this confrontation, I would.

  “How do you know?” I still can’t look Pops in the eyes, but I need answers too. “Who told you?”

  “Jamie Park,” Dad whispers. “We had quite the conversation this morning.”

  Seriously?

  Anger quells up inside me, chasing away the crushing sadness. She called my dad up and tattled to him? “Of course she did.”

  I feel both my parents’ stares on me and finally glance up to look at them.

  “What does that mean?” Dad asks, bottom lip trembling. “Two, how did we get here? Explain. Please.”

  Scrubbing my palm over my face, I let out a heavy sigh. “Do we really have to do this?”

  Pops growls—seriously growls like a goddamn dog. “Yes, Son. We really do.”

  Okay, so no avoiding it.

  I really wish Tate were here to mediate this shitshow.

  “Did you know Tate’s fiancé is Jude Park?” I cock my head to the side, looking Dad’s way.

  “We did.” Dad purses his lips while he and Pops share a weighted look. “Jude hired our company a while back to repair his porch and add a wheelchair ramp. When I learned Tate was a therapist and a very nice young man, I wanted you to see him.”

  I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “I’m surprised you even took the job after that family…”

  Dad swallows and his eyes water. “After what, Two? What do you think you know?”

  “Think?” I say with a scoff. “Dad, I found the letter from Jamie. I saw the picture.”

  “You went through my things?”

  “Believe me,” I spit out. “Never made that mistake again.”

  Dad flinches at my words. “What has gotten into you?”

  “Exactly when did you find the letter and picture?” Pops demands, railroading right over Dad’s question. “Why didn’t you talk to us about this?”

  Memories of being nine years old and curious about Santa assault me. Why did I have to go snooping? I found so much more than I’d bargained for.

  “I was nine.”

  Dad starts to cry again and Pops storms out of the room. A door slams somewhere within the house. Guilt and anger and sadness swirl around inside me like some fucked-up typhoon ready to suck me up and spit me out.

  “Nine,” Dad rasps out through his tears. “Oh my God. This explains so much.”

  It does?

  Before I can probe him, Pops returns with the offending letter and picture in hand. He slaps them down on the coffee table before landing in a heap beside Dad. His anger is still there like a live electrical wire, but his eyes shine with abject despair.

  I knew this would happen.

  I knew if it ever came to light, they’d have to revisit the horrible, devastating memories.

  Jamie Park is a witch.

  How could she?

  Why would she?

  Hasn’t she done enough to torment my dads?

  “There’s so much to unpack here,” Dad says with a humorless laugh. “So much.”

  Pops leans forward and stabs a finger at the picture. “Tell us everything.”

  I press my lips together, not eager to get into this. There’s no hiding it now, though.

  “Two,” Pops clips out. “Cut the bullshit and speak.”

  “Dax told me Santa wasn’t real and he could prove it.” I run my tongue over my bottom lip, wishing I’d grabbed a handful of butterscotch candies so I’d have something to distract myself with. “I told him he was wrong. Went hunting and discovered that stuff instead.”

  “Oh, honey,” Dad croaks. “You must’ve been so confused and hurting.”

  “To say the least,” I mutter.

  “So you sought her out?” Pops asks, jaw muscle flexing. “To punish us?”

  Dad gives a sharp shake of his head. “Grant. Cool off before you say something you can’t take back.”

  “I just want to understand how it is our son is apparently dating the girl we almost adopted.” Pops pinches the bridge of his nose. “All scenarios as to why this has happened in my head are bad ones. What did we do to ever deserve this betrayal by our own son?”

  “Betrayal?” My voice rises several octaves. “How betrayed do you think I felt when I discovered I was your second choice?”

  Tears of anger and years’ worth of pain form in my eyes, blurring my parents’ figures. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to get them not to leak. A ragged sob rips from my throat anyway. So much for that.

  Hands are suddenly on either side of my head as Dad kisses the top.

  “You weren’t a second choice, honey,” Dad says with a broken voice. “You were the best decision we ever made. Instalove. The second we laid eyes on you, you were ours.”

  His words prickle their way into my aching heart.

  “But you wanted Gemma. Enough to name her and fix up a nursery for her,” I argue through my tears. “She was your number one. I was the backup option after Jamie broke your hearts.”

  Dad pulls back and kneels in front of me. “Eyes here, Two.” He motions at his red, teary ones. “You are our number one. You.”

  Pops comes over to join, sitting on the arm of the chair. “You really thought we were pining away all these years over Gemma?” His strong hand clutches my shoulder. “Son, from the second we got you, you’ve been our entire world.”

  “Did you start dating her to get back at us?” Dad asks. “Because of how you were feeling?”

  I swallow hard and shake my head. “No. As soon as I learned who she was, I hated her instantly. I didn’t want to like her, Dad. I fucking swear it. It just happened.”

  Pops chuckles. “Sounds like when I met your dad. We weren’t ever supposed to be a thing, but it just happened.”

  “Once you realized you weren’t exactly straight,” Dad reminds him with a goofy grin. “Had to convince you a few times until you understood.”

  They join hands, sharing in their moment, gazing happily at each other. It gives me hope that this whole Gemma thing won’t completely destroy them.

  “How’d you meet her?” Dad finally asks. “If you didn’t seek her out, how did it happen?”

  “In class. She called my car a hunk of junk.”

  Pops scoffs and Dad sniggers. Since the vehicle is Pops’s old car and Dad made him retire it, their reactions are appropriate.

  “Then she hit me with her car!”

  Dad’s humor is wiped right off his face. “She what? On purpose? What the hell? Are you okay?”

  I let his rapid-fire questions penetrate my aching heart. He loves me. They both do. Their concern and care have always been so overwhelming in a good way.

  “It was an accident. I’m fine now. Just got bruised at the time.” I can’t help but grin. “I was such a dick to her. Naturally, I got partnered up with her for the Hemingford Hall project.”

  “Gemma’s your project partner? Jamie failed to mention that part.” Dad’s eyes widen comically. “Gemma was here, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” I admit, feeling terrible. “She’s actually cool, though. Not at all a bitch like I’d assumed.”

  A smile tugs at my lips as I think of her pretty glossy lips and sassy personality.

  “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Pops says with a chuckle. “Our boy is in love.”

  Dad squeals—legit squeals—making me and Pops both wince.

  “You’re being safe, right?” Pops continues. “I know we’ve had the birds and the bees talk many times before, but I feel like we might need to have a refresher course.”

  “Pops, no,” I say with a grimace. “I know everything there is to know about sex. I’m a grown-ass man in case you forgot. Besides, we aren’t even there yet. Damn.”

  “Thank God,” Dad says, shaking his head. “Take things slow. Get to know each other before you make commitments with your bodies.”

  “Dude,” I grunt. “I really don’t want to talk about this with you guys.”

  “Condoms?” Pops asks, completely ignoring my request. “You have them just in case?”

  “I’ll put them on the grocery list,” Dad interjects. “Should we buy more lube?”

  Fuck my life.

  Now they’re just tormenting me.

  A blossom of warmth fills my chest. This wicked, ugly secret is now in the open and we’re all teasing and laughing, sitting close by each other and touching.

  They do love me.

  I’m their whole world, they said.

  “How did you know Jamie anyway?” I ask, still needing to know more about their past. “There seemed to have been some sort of relationship there.”

  Dad glances up at Pops. “You want to tell him, hon? This is more your story than mine.”

  “She was just a kid I knew from the neighborhood I grew up in,” Pops explains, sadness in his voice. “Her family was full of assholes who used to whip up on her. Your grandma would always invite her over to eat supper with us. I kind of thought of her as an annoying little sister, but deep down, I knew she needed the break from those horrible people.”

  “We later invited her to our wedding,” Dad cuts in, “but she never showed. The girl really did live a troubled life. Then, one day, she reached out to us to tell us she was pregnant and wouldn’t be able to keep the baby.”

  “Except she did keep the baby,” I grumble. “Screwed you over in the process.”

  “She was young,” Pops states in her defense. “And scared. Yes, we were hurt by her changing her mind, but we also were realistic from the start. At the time, we weren’t actively looking to adopt, but after things fell through with Jamie, we both realized there was so much love in our hearts. We needed to share that with someone.”

  “That someone was you, Two,” Dad croons. “Our perfect, precious baby boy. Still are.”

  Something tells me I’ll be forty and my dads will still treat me like their precious baby boy. Something tells me I won’t hate it either.

  “I know it would be awkward for you guys to meet her,” I start to say, but Dad cuts me off.

  “Honey, no. We really, really want to meet her. Not as some little girl we never adopted but as our son’s girlfriend. The girl our beautiful, funny, smart-as-a-whip son is crazy over. I know we’ve been busy with work and you with school, but please make time to bring her over to dinner one day so we can properly meet her.”

  At one point, I wondered what it would be like for Gemma to meet my dads. I imagined heartache and tears. Now, though, I can imagine the four of us having a really good time.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll bring her over. She really wants to meet you guys.”

  Dad grins and pulls my head toward his to kiss my forehead. Pops squeezes my shoulder again in an affectionate gesture he’s done my entire life as far back as I can remember.

  “I’m sorry I snooped,” I say, coming down from my momentary high. “I should have talked to you about it. Once I tell Tate this is what I’ve been carrying for so long, something tells me he’s going to beat my ass for not telling him sooner so we could talk it out.”

  Dad cracks up laughing. “Good. We pay him well to beat your ass.”

  A weight tumbles off my shoulders and shatters on the floor around me. Who knew talking about this could feel so good? I’ve been spending years and years bottling it up inside. Releasing it is so…freeing.

  Gemma

  I’m unbelievably pissed at my mother right now.

  She called Two’s dads this morning and tattled.

  How could she?

  Is she trying to ruin my life—ruin this good, sweet, tender thing between me and Two?

  When he texted me this morning to let me know what she’d done, I’d been humiliated and horrified. Luckily, he said his parents were handling it well. Just wanted me to know.

  If I weren’t terrified of getting abducted by some creeper, I’d take a drive far away from this house just to calm my mind and get away from Mom. Instead, I do the next best thing. I go next door to visit Willa and my little buddy Bane.

  “Knock-knock,” I chirp as I enter my brother and sister-in-law’s house.

  Bane babbles from somewhere within the home. I follow the sounds of my nephew’s adorable little voice to find him in his room in his bed, clearly just having awoken from a nap. His parents’ bedroom door is closed.

  Ew.

  They’re probably making more babies.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” I say to the baby monitor, knowing they can hear me. “Keep doing your thing, big bro.”

  I hear laughing from their bedroom, which makes me grin. Bane’s blue eyes sparkle with delight when he sees me.

  “There’s my Baney-boo,” I croon as I scoop him into my arms. “Did you miss me?”

  He continues making cheerful, loud sounds that warm my heart while I snuggle him to me. With Bane, I can almost forget I’m angry at Mom. Almost.

  At least over here, I don’t have to see her. Mom doesn’t exactly come over to Callum’s that often. I mean, she tried to ruin his life too…

  Guilt assaults me. I know that’s unfair. Mom had her own terrible struggles when she was younger and vilifying her won’t help the situation. I just need a break from her.

  I feel Bane’s diaper and decide he needs changing. I’m no expert at this job, but I can do a better job than all my brothers combined. Bane’s only peed on me once. After I change him, I pick him back up and carry him into the living room to wait for Willa to stop being bred by my brother.

  Minutes later, they both hurry into the living room. Willa’s face is flushed, with beard burn from my brother’s scruff. Callum wears a smug smirk. They both smell like sex. Yuck.

  “What’s up?” Willa asks, sitting beside me. “Everything okay?”

  She’s always been one to read people well, especially me.

  “Not really.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. “Just Mom trying to ruin my life, is all.”

  Callum plops down in the recliner, nosing his way into our conversation. “She’s a master at that shit.”

  No matter how much time goes by or how happy Callum is, he’ll never truly let it go that Mom left him for our dad. Truthfully, I’d be pissed too if I were him.

  I then proceed to word-vomit everything to Callum, Willa, and little Bane. By the time I finish, Willa’s eyes are wide as saucers. Callum studies me with a pensive look.

  “So you have a boyfriend and never told me?” Willa asks, hurt lacing her tone. “I gotta admit. I’m a little stung by that.”

  I sigh as I reach over to squeeze her hand. “I know and I’m sorry. It was just a weird thing, you know? I didn’t want anyone to know. Now, apparently, everyone does.”

  “Bring him to family dinner tonight,” Callum suggests. “Let’s see if he passes the brotherly test.”

  “Oh, he totally won’t,” I say with a silly smile. “Two’s his own weird person. Doesn’t ever say or do the right thing. While I find it endearing, it’s put him on the bad side of every family member he’s met thus far.”

  Callum’s smile curls into something a bit wicked. “I like him already.”

  Bane grabs hold of some of my hair and hollers as if to throw his two cents in as well. I kiss his fuzzy head and squeeze him tight. I love this little guy.

  “Tell us more about this stalker,” Callum says, growing serious. “You said Sloane thinks it’s someone Dad knows. Hell, that could be anyone. He’s friends with everyone in this town.”

  “If I know Dad, he’s probably already making a list for Jude,” I say with a frown. “She also thought it could be a girl just trying to scare me.”

  “And it’s definitely not that cop?” Willa asks. “He seems like a suspect to me too.”

  “Sloane doesn’t think so,” I say with a shake of my head. “It’s creepy to think some old man Dad knows could be doing this.”

  “Even if they know Dad,” Callum reasons, “they shouldn’t have access to all your information. They’d know your home address at best. But your phone number? Your boyfriend’s house? The person has connections of some sort.”

  “Your dad is cozied up to that new mayor. Phil Draper.” Willa frowns at me. “That guy seriously makes me nervous.”

  “Possibly,” Callum says, “but I didn’t get that vibe when I met him. Do you think he just unnerves you because he worked with your ex-stepdad?”

  Willa’s ex-stepdad and ex-stepbrother were total assholes. For the most part, they leave her alone now that she’s a part of the Parks, but they still make her wary.

  “Maybe,” Willa admits. “Wouldn’t hurt to have Sloane investigate him.”

  “She won’t go hunting down people again,” I say with a sigh. “That almost cost her her job last time, especially since she had it all wrong. She’s going to want hard proof that he could be a suspect.”

  “I’ll have Jude do a full rundown on him,” Callum assures me. “We’ll uncover any dirt the illegal way and then let Sloane shake down the rest the legal way.”

  Despite everything being so messy, I’m once again reminded about how good my family can be. We may have our flaws, but we sure know how to band together in a crisis.

  I guess my stalker is officially considered a Park family crisis now.

  Family dinners at my house every Sunday are hectic, to say the least. Mom got a new, ostentatious mahogany dining room table to better fit our growing family. If we include our grandfather, his cook, and all the babies, there’s something like seventeen of us. The table seats twenty-two. I don’t know what Mom will do when we max out. Do they make tables any bigger than this monstrous piece?

  Rex is in his highchair, already stuffing his face with macaroni and cheese, while Mom rushes around to place last-minute dishes on the table. No one pays me any attention, all of them babbling and catching up, which is good.

  Two’s coming to dinner.

  Surprise!

  Now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no reason why he can’t join us. In fact, I want him to join us. Since last night and this morning went so badly, I’m aching to see him to make sure we’re okay—that he’s okay.

 

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