Once he's older, we'll decide how to tackle the nuances of the specific family dynamics he was born into honestly, but for now, we're going to be the dads this little baby needs to feel safe and valued and nurtured as he develops.
"He's beautiful," Court murmurs as I latch onto his shoulder and peer down at our baby.
"He is."
"Takes after me," we say at the same time.
Our eyes meet.
Court grins. "Great minds, eh?"
"Yeah." I gently rub my finger across his black-haired scalp. "This is real, Court. We're parents. I'm so happy."
"I am, too. I love you, Buzz."
I slide my arm around his waist and press my cheek against his shoulder. "I love you, too, Court."
60
Courtland
"Who's the most precious little baby in the world?" Lola coos as soon as I hand over our son for her first chance to gush over him.
Manuel is pretending like he's not interested, but I saw the way his face lit up when little Brock reached for his finger.
Yep, that's the name we went with. Brock Matthews to be exact, to ensure our kid doesn't end up with the same moniker as Buzz.
"How's your mom doing?" Lola asks, tearing her eyes away from Brock for a second.
"She's fine. They discharged her this morning. I think she needs some time to process the emotional component of this, so I'll be keeping a close eye on her."
"I'm sure you will, sweetie," she says before turning all her attention back to Brock. "You are so cute I could just eat you up. Shoot. That reminds me. I need to order more Wagyu beef."
"Looking at our son made you think of that?" Buzz asks, chuckling.
Our son.
Hearing those words come out of Buzz's mouth hits me right in the chest. This is such an unusual setup, the two of us raising our half brother, but we're determined to always be led by what's in little Brock's best interests.
He'll learn the truth when he's ready, and that is likely going to be a very difficult conversation. Good thing I'm working on developing that skill.
I potentially wasted so many years not being with Buzz because I was too afraid to talk. I won't ever make that same mistake again.
And I hope that if I can impart anything onto our child, it's that talking about your feelings and communicating honestly is a sign of strength. Especially for boys.
"I ’ave to go now," Manuel says, his eyes brimming with joy as he glances at Brock then turning icy cold when he peers up at me. "Such a shame you no longer work ’ere."
"Hearing the sincerity as you say that makes me seriously reconsider whether I did the right thing by handing the reins over to you and accepting a position at Clovelly Family Practice."
"No, no. You deed, you deed," he assures me, a momentary flash of horror splashed across his face. "You made ze right dee-cee-sion for us all."
"I know I did," I say, smiling.
As much as I love the inn and really enjoyed working here for six months, my real passion is helping people. It took having a break for me to appreciate just how core that is to who I am.
And I did make the right decision for everyone—I own the place, Manuel runs it, and with clearly laid-out boundaries in place, neither one of us will ever rot in jail for manslaughter.
"We should get going," I say. "We have to make a quick stop before we get home."
