A Very Daddy Christmas (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Chapter 18

18

Waylan

T he rest of our stay at the resort was only subtly marred by the tension the hitmen left behind. They didn’t ruin our holiday, we refused to let their attack get to us. We made love, we ate fancy meals, we enjoyed each other’s company, and we allowed ourselves to be who we are. It was liberating and soothing.

However, it’s time to get back to reality. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to look over my shoulder the way I’ve had to since we got back from the mountains.

I’m reanalyzing our relationship with Cora and its chances of actually working out. It was nice and cozy up in the mountains, but in the real world, tension and uncertainty has reared their ugly heads once again. We keep telling her we’ll be careful, that we’ll protect her and our relationship, and we have every intention of doing precisely that, but nothing is certain.

My feelings for her have only grown stronger. It worries me. It also clouds my judgment.

I need to be sure of her, of us, before I go all in.

“Dario, can you pass me the yellow crayon, please?” Aylin, Cora’s youngest niece, asks my boy.

Teresa is flipping through the TV channels, nowhere near as interested in drawing, but Aylin and Dario have taken over the living room floor, hundreds of crayons spread all over, as they let their imagination run wild. Cora and I lounge on the sofa, watching the kids play and trying to enjoy the rest of what’s left of Saturday afternoon.

“Which yellow?” Dario replies, staring in confusion at a bunch of different shades of the same color. “Garbage yellow?”

“Garbage yellow?” Cora chuckles softly, now invested in the conversation.

Dario holds up a crayon. “This one.”

“That’s mustard yellow,” Aylin politely corrects him.

“Mustard yellow,” he repeats after her. “So, this one?”

“No, the sunflower,” she says, prompting Cora to smile.

I give her a curious look. “What’s up?”

“He likes Aylin,” she whispers. “I think Dario is crushing on my niece.”

“He’s three. He crushes a lot. It’s cute,” I reply.

Cora shakes her head slowly, a flicker of grief lingering in her soft gaze. “He’s opening up a lot more, have you noticed? He’s letting himself become attached to people.”

“You did the same after your parents passed away?” I ask her.

She lets a heavy sigh roll from her chest. “More or less. It took some time, but eventually I started talking to people again. Participating in class. Socializing with folks other than my sister. I think that’s what is happening with Dario now.”

I watch the kids go about their color dispute, constantly surprised by Dario’s talent. Cora was right. His drawings have become increasingly complex—and it’s not just his sense of color, but the way in which he’s able to interpret light and shadow, along with the three-dimensional shape of any object. He has an eye for depth, and for his age, it’s quite impressive.

Cora rests her head on my shoulder. “I could get used to this,” she mutters.

“Get used to what, exactly?” I reply, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I pull her close, reveling in her apple and cinnamon scent— she spent most of the morning baking us one hell of a pie. We’re all waiting for it to cool down. “The comfort and the peace?”

“The not-doing-anything part of the comfort and the peace. The lazy Saturday afternoons, to be specific. I’m always up and about, running errands. It seems there’s always something to do.”

“Perhaps it’s time to do more of this,” I suggest. “It’s good for the soul.”

“It’s also not the best period of my life to kick back and smell the roses,” Cora sighs deeply. “There’s too much on my plate. And after what happened at the resort—”

“You’re not alone in this,” I remind her.

She lowers her gaze, briefly distracted by the kids. I’m trying to figure out what Teresa wants to watch on TV, since she’s still flipping through channels and streaming apps.

“It’s been too quiet lately,” Cora says. “I don’t like it. Maybe that’s what has me on edge.”

“You’re not on edge now, are you?”

Cora shakes her head slowly. “No.”

“You just said it feels nice to be sitting here like this.”

“Yes.”

“It’s because you feel safe here, with us. With me. The kids playing. The pie cooling. Your sister handling things at the bakery while Sebastian and Riggs are out talking to our buddies about St. James and Denaro,” I say.

She looks up at me and smiles the sweetest smile, stars dancing in her eyes as she plants a soft kiss on my cheek. I catch a flicker of doubt and fear in her gaze. Words wanting to come out. But she hides it all under this warmth of hers, successfully distracting me.

“It’s true,” Cora sighs deeply. “I am better off when I’m with you. It doesn’t make a future together more probable, though. Not in the long run.”

“Way to throw cold water over the whole thing,” I mutter.

“Come on, Waylan, you’re the pragmatist in our group,” she replies. “You have doubts of your own. I saw that from the very beginning. Even now, you’ve got one foot out the door, so to speak.”

“And you don’t?”

“I guess I can’t argue there.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” I ask her. “Because I’m becoming increasingly allergic to the idea of a life without you, Cora. I don’t like it. I don’t like what thinking about it does to me, to my senses. But I know it’s happening. And the more I fight it, the worse I feel. Surely, it’s the same for you.”

“It is.”

I kiss her temple, pouring everything into it. Tenderness. Affection. Emotional security. All that I can muster in order to make Cora feel safe here, beside me. “Then what do we do about it, babe? Sebastian and Riggs keep waiting on me to give into this, wholeheartedly, but you and I know I need you to do the same.”

“I want to,” she gives me a pained look. “I’m just terrified of all this getting out. Your lives will be ruined. Mine as well. The risks are huge, Waylan, as you’re well aware.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to live like this anymore. Fearful. Doubtful. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s exhausting, Cora. We need to do something. The two of us.”

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at the kids.

“Emerald-green,” Dario tells Aylin, pointing at one of the crayons closest to the girl. “That one. I use it for the grass.”

“This is called verdant,” Aylin replies, showing him another color. “I like it better.”

“It looks dark,” Dario says, doubtful of its impact on his developing artwork. It looks like he’s trying to put together an autumnal landscape, at first glance. He’s got a few trees and a hill drawn, along with several fallen leaves. Some mustard yellow, some burnt orange, and several in a deep shade of ruby red. “Grass isn’t that dark.”

Aylin shakes her head. “It’s dark in autumn. Sometimes it’s brown. Give it a try, Dario.”

“Okay,” the boy says and takes the crayon from Cora’s niece.

It’s a collaborative effort between these two, and I have more and more appreciation for Aylin and the way she seems to be getting closer to my boy, drawing him out of his shell. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him so bright and inspired, so eager to be around other kids outside of preschool.

Cora rests a hand on my chest, fingertips gently pressing into the woolen fabric of my sweater. “I think we need to get past the fear of what could go wrong,” she says to me in a low voice. “And figure it out together. One day at a time, no matter what.”

“Sounds sensible enough.”

“And doable. I mean, the unexpected doesn’t wait for us, does it?”

I chuckle softly. “No, it does not. What are you trying to tell me, Cora?”

She stares at me for the longest minute, holding her breath as she nibbles on her lower lip. There’s definitely something on her mind, something she has yet to put into words.

“Nothing in particular,” she mumbles. “Just saying we should both let go of ourselves a bit more, kind of like Sebastian and Riggs are already doing.”

“They have fears of their own, you know. It’s not all black and white with them, either.”

“I’m well aware,” Cora replies. “But I have to give them both credit. Their coping mechanisms beat mine by a mile.”

“Mine too. Then again, maybe we’re wasting too much time being afraid.” I exhale sharply. “Maybe it’s time to overcome the what-if’s and do what we want to do. It could take us somewhere incredible.”

“Or to our collective doom.”

“You’re not helping, Cora.”

She laughs wholeheartedly, nuzzling my neck as I pull her even closer. Dario looks up at us and smiles, eager to show off his new artwork. It’s enough to end what I’m hoping was a constructive conversation between Cora and me— the kind of conversation that will make it easier for us in the coming days and weeks as the escrow deadline grows closer.

“Do you like it?” Dario asks.

Aylin shoots him a cool grin. “I think it’s awesome.”

“Oh, I love it!” Cora exclaims. “I feel like I’m walking into the forest, smack in the middle of October. Nicely done, Dario. I think we should get Waylan to frame it. Right?” She looks at me.

“Yeah, Dad, please?” Dario chimes in.

My heart stops. “Did you just call me Dad?” I manage, my voice merely a whisper.

“Are you mad?” Dario asks, his face scrunching up a bit.

“No, no, God, no, not at all,” I try to reassure him. “I’m… grateful.” And definitely about to cry unless I change the subject.

Dario picks up on the awkwardness and holds the drawing up again. “Do you like it? Dad?”

“I love it,” I say, stunned by how determined he is to double down on a most precious, sacred word. It fills my heart with joy and my soul with newfound courage as I kiss Cora’s cheek. “Wait until the guys hear about this.”

About an hour later, Sebastian and Riggs return. They don’t have any encouraging news, but it’s time for us to take the girls back to the bakery, so we grab two cars. Sebastian’s SUV has Riggs and the girls in the backseat, while Cora and Dario ride with me. It’s a quiet, early evening in Madison. There’s barely any traffic, so the ride is relatively short.

We pull up behind Sebastian’s SUV outside the bakery, and Dario hops out to join the others by the front door. Before we do the same, I give Cora’s wrist a gentle squeeze. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks with a subtle frown. She’s probably overthinking. Again.

“I spoke to a buddy of mine who’s a contractor,” I say. “He’s got a job opening for Carl.”

“No way!” Her eyes grow wide with sheer joy.

“Yes way,” I chuckle. “Mind you, he’ll have to be away for a week or two, here and there, but it’s good money, and the work is steady. My friend is always busy. In fact, he’s had to turn a few potential clients away this year because he didn’t have enough reliable construction workers to collaborate with.”

Cora is over the moon, fidgeting in her seat. I only want to see her like this from now on. Beaming like the morning sun, happiness dancing in her beautiful eyes, and hope sparkling in her gorgeous smile.

“Oh, he’s going to be so happy!” she says.

“I told my friend to give him a call, so Carl will be getting a wonderful surprise on Monday,” I reply, welcoming her soft kisses.

“Okay, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut then,” she laughs.

We join the others. Sebastian and Riggs are already smiling, aware of the news I just broke. Cora notices their expressions and laughs lightly. “You two knew.”

“It was Waylan’s thing. We figured it’s only fair he should be the one to tell you,” Sebastian replies.

Riggs opens the door for the kids. “Get in, munchkins. Your mom’s got a table ready for us, but I need to have a quick word with Auntie Cora before we join you.”

“Don’t stay too long,” Teresa jokingly warns him. “Mom hates it when we’re late to the table.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, and lets the girls take Dario inside with them.

From where I’m standing outside, I can see Eva and Carl getting pastries out of the oven and setting them on serving plates. The bakery is closed to the public at this hour, but we made a habit of gathering here every Saturday to try out new recipes and to simply catch up as a family. It has brought us closer together.

Eva smiles as her daughters join them, and Carl cordially takes Dario aside to help with the plates and napkins.

Cora then steps back and moves closer to the car, out of their sight.

Sebastian, Riggs, and I join her. We huddle together, the cold sharpening as the sunlight begins to fade in the west. The sky above us is streaked with strips of neon pink and dark blue, announcing a cold night ahead. We won’t see another snowfall for a couple of days, at least, but the city is already clad in a thick layer of white.

“I cannot express how grateful I am for everything you’ve done, everything you’re still doing,” Cora tells us as she tucks herself tighter into her plush blue winter jacket. “Carl has been feeling so strung out lately. He’s not the type to just sit around and wait for employers to call him back.”

“Carl has always had a steady job, from what you’ve said,” Sebastian replies. “It’s only natural that a man like him would feel that way. Personally, I’m glad Waylan still has friends in the real estate development industry who aren’t entirely beholden to the likes of St. James and Hamilton.”

“They’re actually competitors,” I say, grinning. “Hamilton’s going to blow a fuse when he hears about it. My buddy will enjoy bragging just to ruin his day.”

“I like it.” Cora giggles.

I give her an amused nod. “That’s what happens when you’re a dick to people, babe. People tend to remember, and some will eventually pay you back in kind. And for all the trouble Hamilton has caused at the behest of St. James, I can’t say that I feel sorry for him in any way.”

“Oh, me, either. I’m just glad Carl will start a new job sooner rather than later,” Cora says, then throws her arms around both Riggs and me.

I’m the first she pulls into a kiss while Riggs lovingly pecks her cheek. Sebastian joins the group hug, and we huddle like that for a minute or two. My eyes dart left and right, in a bid for cautiousness.

The street looks pretty empty, with the exception of a few cars parked along the opposite sidewalk. There’s no movement. No activity anywhere. This whole stretch of road is eerily quiet at this hour on a Saturday, even though it’s in the middle of November. Which makes me breathe a whole lot easier as I plant a hot kiss on the side of Cora’s neck, the warmth of her skin dissolving into my lips.

“We should take this inside,” Sebastian warns.

The sound of a car door slamming shut causes the four of us to instantly separate as we look around, searching for the source of the noise. My heart gallops into a veritable frenzy as I see George Hamilton approaching us from across the street.

“Shit,” I mumble. He was sitting in one of the parked cars and I didn’t see him. He looks pissed off.

“Here he comes,” Riggs says, spotting Hamilton as he stalks toward us, his dark gray overcoat flapping in the brisk wind.

“Your friend must’ve called him,” Sebastian sighs.

All I can do is shrug. “It’s not like I can tell Leon what he can and cannot do. It’s his company. Besides, Hamilton had it coming.”

“How long has he been out here, though?” Cora asks the tough question.

“Not sure, but brace yourself,” I whisper, keeping my distance while Sebastian instinctively moves back to stand beside her.

We drew up contingency plans to avoid discovery in public—one of them being that if anyone ever suspects anything going on between us, Sebastian would openly admit that he and Cora are an item. We figured it would be safer that way.

“You’ve got some nerve!” George Hamilton hisses as he points an angry finger at me and the guys. “I know you’re the ones who did it. You shouldn’t have gotten involved in this because now I have no choice but to retaliate!”

“Pretty sure you retaliated when you left a man without a job just before the holidays,” Sebastian coldly replies. “All we did was restore some balance to the universe.”

“I can’t believe the nerve,” Cora says. “Openly admitting you tried to hurt my family, only to get pissed off because Carl won’t stay poor and unemployed. You’re pathetic, Mr. Hamilton.”

“And desperate,” I chuckle dryly, drawing his attention.

“You’re in for a heap of suffering.”

“Is that a threat?” I ask, my tone suddenly icy, my glare deadly as I straighten my back. I’m already taller than him but standing on the curb while he’s still in the street causes me to practically tower over the man. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”

“It’s a promise. Stop getting involved in an issue that doesn’t concern you,” Hamilton replies. “You won’t like the repercussions. And this little bitch isn’t worth it.”

Cora gasps. I take a step forward, and it takes all the self-control I can muster in order to stop myself from kicking his ass. “I’d mind your words if I were you, George.”

“You’re frustrated and you’re lashing out,” Riggs says, slightly more calmly. “But you’re crossing a line I guarantee you’re not ready to cross, because the consequences are way worse than anything you think you have in store for us.”

“In layman’s terms,” I add, “show Cora the respect she deserves, or I will beat you to a pulp, and you won’t be able to do anything about it, Mr. Hamilton. This is where we draw the line.”

Hamilton’s eyes widen as he quickly realizes his mouth took over for him at the worst possible time. “Listen, you all need to stay out of this. For your own sake.” He looks at Cora with hard, unyielding eyes. “And you need to withdraw your escrow offer and let me buy the building, just the way Orson intended. You have no idea the mess you insist on wading into. You’re going to get yourself hurt or killed.”

“I was right,” Sebastian says. “Hamilton doesn’t have the money to outbid you, Cora. They’re desperate and going for intimidation.”

I move closer and get into Hamilton’s face. Close enough to make the fucker sweat as he takes a wary step back. “Your associates already tried to hurt us. They failed. The next time one of them tries something, however, you’re the one I’m coming for. Fuck the law and common courtesy, I will break every fucking bone in your body if you don’t instruct your goons to leave us alone.”

“You’re wrong,” he mumbles, his anger fizzling away, quickly replaced by what I can only describe as pure dread. He’s putting two and two together. Learning new information from us. “I didn’t send any goons. Neither did Orson. That’s what I keep trying to tell you, you prideful bastards. You’re in over your heads.” He looks at Cora again. “Especially you and your sister.”

“It’s Denaro, isn’t it?” I ask.

Upon hearing that name, Hamilton lets out a heavy sigh, then shakes his head and spins on his heels, choosing to hurriedly walk away instead of respond. I don’t know how to interpret the gesture except as a tacit confirmation that we are, in fact, dealing with the mob.

The four of us watch him leave and get in his car. The black sedan darts off, taillights glimmering red in its wake.

“They’re beyond desperate,” Sebastian concludes. “Hamilton didn’t think this entire conversation through.”

“Do you think he saw us? Earlier, I mean,” Cora murmurs, looking up at me. “Your car’s pretty tall. I dare hope he didn’t see anything, but what if—”

“You’re fine, we’re fine,” I reassure her, though I can’t exactly crush this doubt of hers either. I can only assume Hamilton would’ve said something. He would’ve rushed to use it against us. But even then, it’s a skinny case, at best. No evidence, just a bad angle.

“Cora, do you understand what this means?” I ask her.

She shakes her head slowly.

“They’re bound to make some terrible mistakes. All you have to do is stand your ground,” I say.

Sebastian nods in agreement. “And we’ll be right here with you.”

It’s about to get a whole lot worse. We now know, almost for certain, that a dangerous third party is involved in this whole mess. It’s not just Orson and George pining to get this building away from Cora and her sister.

And that’s a whole new level of danger, because once Denaro figures out we’re on to him, it’ll be even harder for us to take him down.