“Hi, James.” I sniffle and hold out my free hand. “I’m Theodora but you can call me whatever you want to.”
He eyes my hand warily and my heart breaks just a little. Obviously, he’s been through some shit, never been given a chance to trust someone other than Tate and there is no excuse for it. None. But I am going to make it my mission to show this sweet little boy he can trust people, specifically me and my people, and he never has to worry about anything again.
So, I pull my hand back a little and wiggle my fingers. “Can you show me how old you are, James?”
Tentatively, he reaches out and pushes my thumb to my palm. “I’m four.” Then his bright blue eyes widen in awe. “You have giants.” He gasps.
All three men crouch down to our level and when Zak’s hand finds the small of my back, I take my first breath in what feels like forever.
“I do have giants.” I grin, placing my hand onmygiant’s knee. “This is Zak.”
James studies him quietly for a few beats. “You have scars like me.”
Tate, despite having a rather defensive stance herself as soon as thegiantsjoined us, looks positively horrified. “Theodore James Covington! That is not—“
“It’s ok,” Zak chuckles. “Just stating facts, right bud?”
James, or Theodore James—gah!—nods, lifts his little shirt with Darth Vader—double gah!—on it to reveal a smattering of small round and still healing dots all over his chest and stomach. “See, I gots scars too.”
My eyes dart to Tate as she pulls his shirt down with a tight smile. “Last night was the last straw.”
I nod and watch through blurry eyes as Zak, Spider, and Jackal all pull the collars of their t-shirts down to show James—who I have every intention of calling Theo when he’s comfortable enough—their many circular scars over their chests. I have Zak’s memorized at this point, but what surprises me most, aside from the fact that Jackal is a bit gorilla-esque for a blonde, is the fact that Spider has scars that are very similar to James in between the bullet holes.
Cigarette burns.
I don’t have to be a smoker to know that. Zak still occasionally indulges so I can easily make the comparison without first-hand experience.
Both James and Spider have cigarette burns and it breaks my fucking heart.
“You guys have scars like me too?”
Spider fixes his shirt then gets to his feet, his hands shaking at his sides, but as much as I love that guy like a brother, I can’t focus on that right now. I’ll grill Zak later.
Jackal grins. “Sure do, champ. Shows we’re tough guys, shows we been through a lot of sh... crap and came out swinging.”
“Mommy says it makes me brave.”
Zak nods. “Your mommy is right, bud. Only the bravest dudes get to tell people about their scars afterward. And you know who else says that?”
James shakes his head.
“Your Auntie Dori. She tells me that all the time.”
I am going to marry this man and give him all the babies. All of them. I’m pretty sure watching him interact with James already has one cooking in my oven since I’ve been spontaneously ovulating the last ten minutes.
“Are you my Uncle Zak?”
My eyes bug out behind my glasses, Tate snorts the exact same way I do because of it, and my boyfriend nods his head with a grin. “Uncle Zak. I can dig that.”
James looks at Jackal, lifting a thin dark brow. “Are you my uncle too?”
“Sure, kid.” He laughs. “Your aunt is basically my sister-in-law twice over at this point so you can call me Uncle Jackal.”
Those blue eyes drift to Spider, who is now pacing and having a very hushed conversation on his phone, a slight scowl on his handsome face. James looks the three of us over again as Tate kisses his head and his next words, they slay me.
“I think Mommy was right. I think we are gonna be very happy here.”
God, I really hope so.
