Just Like That (The Kings)

“Are you mad?” Beside me, Hazel’s soft, tentative voice whispered in my ear as we hiked.

We were walking side by side along a dirt path that wound us higher and higher toward a peak. Teddy was zigzagging his way across the path, tossing rocks and picking up random sticks. I was pretending that the way Hazel’s breath was huffing in and out of her lungs didn’t make me want to pin her against a tree and hear it up close.

Her legs were smooth and bare. The muscles bunched with each step, and I appreciated how her tight shorts hugged every curve. Her calves tapered to white socks that peeked out over her hiking boots.

“No,” I answered honestly. “I’m not mad.”

Annoyed? Yes.

Inconvenienced? Definitely.

Charmed? Possibly.

Her exaggerated exhale made me smile. “Oh, thank god. When I recruited Royal, I swear I had no idea it was going to go down like that.”

I kicked a small rock out of our path so she wouldn’t trip. “That’s the thing about Royal. No matter what it is, he’s always going to take it a step too far.”

I glanced at her, appreciating the way the afternoon sun highlighted the strands of copper in her hair. “He called me out of my office and asked me to meet him in the back alley. I was ambushed, and he stuffed me in the back of his truck, you know.”

She grimaced and my heart clunked. “Sorry. In my head this was a cute and whimsical escape from all the craziness that was happening around you.”

Truth be told, a few days away was probably exactly what I needed. Not that I’d ever done it to know for sure. In fact, her brand of crazy was surprisingly endearing.

I exhaled and looked up to admire how the light filtered through the canopy and the coastal breeze ruffled the leaves.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

I had no idea how to even begin to answer that question.

Yes? Maybe? Not really? I didn’t really know what okay actually felt like.

“I guess, on one hand everything feels like too much—Dad, the business, my mom—” I gestured toward Teddy without having to say his name. “But on the other hand, I don’t mind the chaos. I’m good at solving problems. We finally have answers about my mother, and there’s a little bit of peace in that. Plus, he’s a cool kid.” I shrugged and hoped she could follow my erratic stream of consciousness.

Hazel stretched her arms in front of her and wrapped them around herself in a tight hug. “I don’t know how you do it. It’s like you’re a master at chess and I’m just out here playing hopscotch.”

Her self-deprecating laugh floated on the breeze.

I shook my head. “You take time for this, though. You’re living your life, showing Teddy how to exist in the moment.” I shrugged. “Kids probably need that.” I gestured toward the nature that sprawled ahead of us. “Showing your adoring fans what a gem Michigan is.”

She swallowed and looked at the trees. “I think I’m on a bit of a hiatus.” She huffed a breath. “I don’t know. It makes me feel a little like a fraud, but I’ve been sharing less content about traveling, for obvious reasons, and more content about my experience raising a kid when you have no idea what you’re doing.”

I watched as uncertainty and nerves bounced through her.

“I’m sure they tune in for you, not just travel content.” Hell, I know I would.

Hazel blushed and smiled, then playfully bumped my shoulder. “Look at us . . . getting along and balancing unexpected parenthood.”

I narrowed my eyes but was enjoying the playful banter. “You did have me kidnapped this afternoon—let’s not forget that.”

She blew a raspberry between her full lips. “Tiny detail.”

When Hazel’s foot slipped on a rock and she stumbled, my arms wrapped around her waist to catch her.

“Careful.” My voice was gruff and angrier than I’d intended.

My hand splayed across her ribs as she scrambled to remain upright. My fingertips landed under the hemline of her crop top, nestling into the grooves of her rib cage. Her skin was soft and warm as I pulled her closer.

Her body was flush with mine. “Be careful,” I repeated, softer this time. “Please.”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I stared at her mouth. It would be so easy to be lost in the moment with her. All it would take was the tiniest movement and my mouth could be on hers again.

The perfect distraction.

She cleared her throat and the moment dissipated. I stepped away from her, wiping my hand against my thigh and trying to forget how right she felt in my arms.

“I’m tired.” Teddy’s whine made the last word stretch on as he trudged toward us, effectively snapping me back to reality.

I crouched in front of him. “Legs are beat?” He nodded, so I gestured with my head. “All right, hop on.”

Teddy’s not-very-tired-looking eyes lit up. “Really?” He scrambled onto my back before I could answer.

I stood and hiked him higher to make sure he was secure. “Better?”

Teddy grinned and nodded. My attention landed on Hazel, who was staring up at me with a strange look on her face.

I frowned, taking in her reddened cheeks. “Are you tired too? Your face is all flushed.”

She swallowed and shook her head.

I tapped Teddy’s leg, needing an excuse to create some space between her and me. “Let’s go see what we can find over that way.”

The campfire crackled as I stared into the flames. Crickets chirped and owls hooted as nighttime fell in a blanket of stars around us. I had been pathetically helpless when it came to building a campfire. I knew the basics, but Hazel called the shots. Teddy and I gathered the supplies—larger sticks and fallen branches—as she worked. She then taught Teddy how to build a log cabin structure with sticks, starting with tinder, then kindling.

Hazel poked the roaring campfire with a stick to shift a log and smiled proudly. Across the fire, I watched as Teddy leaned into Hazel, and a smear of dirt-caked marshmallow streaked across his cheek. He looked more like a seven-year-old kid than he ever had.

I was busy explaining the key differences between mergers and acquisitions, like he’d asked. His eyes were drooping, and I let my speech quietly trail off as he fought sleep.

It was sad to admit that I’d never been camping, especially given the beautiful landscape that surrounded my hometown. When I was growing up, Dad had zero interest in actually parenting, and Aunt Bug had done the best she could to raise six kids from a distance. Even if she had offered to take us camping or on a vacation, there wasn’t a world in which my father would have let us have that moment with her.

Teddy wouldn’t have to experience that—at least not with me around. Sure, I didn’t know anything about nature or camping, but that was what Hazel was for. Between the two of us, Teddy could have experiences all kids should have.

That is, if you are his dad.

My heart thumped. Somewhere along the line, I had started to forget the very real possibility that Teddy wasn’t my kid. I swallowed hard and ignored the coil in my stomach.

Hazel hummed as she looked at the fire and poked at it. Light flickered across her features, creating sharp contrasts where her cheekbones stood out.

My mind buzzed, and despite the peaceful nature around us, I couldn’t wind down. I wiped my palms across my jeans and looked across the fire at Hazel as Teddy snoozed on her shoulder.

I frowned. “So you just . . . sit here?”

Hazel grinned. “Yeah . . . I sit here and breathe.” She tipped her face to the moon and inhaled deeply. “Isn’t it great?”

I harrumphed. It was too quiet. Too easy to let my mind wander to what-ifs.

What if everything falls apart and Dad gets away with it?

What if Teddy is my kid?

What if he isn’t?

What if I’d met Hazel first?

What if that didn’t actually matter after all?

I didn’t like how the quiet allowed the what-ifs to creep in.

When leaves rustled in the tree line, I jumped. From across the fire, Hazel covered a giggle.

My expression sharpened. “It’s not funny.”

She bit her lower lip and looked up at me from beneath her lashes. “It’s a little funny.”

I gestured to the forest at her back. “You want to get eaten by bears?” I hissed.

It was a bit out of my depth, but I figured a large rock or fallen branch would do, should anything come barreling out of the woods. Fighting off a bear with my bare hands wasn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Hazel’s eyebrows shot up. “The ferocious and deadly bears of southwest Michigan?”

I rolled my eyes and stood. “Whatever.”

Hazel laughed and I looked down at her. Mischief danced with firelight in her eyes. She was ridiculous and infuriating. Her sunshine radiated, even under the cloak of darkness.

She was impossible to hate.

Teddy shifted against her shoulder and drew my attention. “He’s out cold.”

Hazel tossed her stick into the fire, watching the flames consume it. “I’ll take him in.”

I stepped forward, crowding her space and bending to scoop him up. “I got him.”

Teddy’s weight sagged in my arms and I moved toward the skoolie with Hazel at my heels. She opened the bus door and I climbed inside.

Hazel pointed around me. “His bed is over there, on the right.”

It still amazed me how much space was inside the old school bus and how much work it must have taken to transform it. Once inside, I walked between the small couch and dinette set. On the left, her small kitchen still had graham cracker crumbs and marshmallows scattered on the white countertop.

She popped a marshmallow into her mouth as she walked behind me.

Across from the kitchen stove was a small bed. Above it were more cabinets for storage. One was slightly open and caught my eye.

Was that . . . an urn?

Hazel slinked around me and closed it with a snap. “That’s nothing.”

Letting it go for now, I ducked and gently set Teddy on top of the space-themed comforter.

Hazel moved around me with a wet wipe, and she did what she could to wipe the sticky marshmallow from his face.

“He’ll need a proper shower tomorrow, but this is good enough,” she whispered. When he didn’t wake, she chuckled. “He’s really tired.”

I slipped his sneakers off his little feet and neatly placed them beside the bed. It suddenly struck me how domestic and routine it felt to be tucking Teddy into bed after a long day—Hazel and I working together to get him in bed, that fraction of a second I looked down at him and watched him sleep.

It all felt oddly normal.

He was a good kid. He deserved to be taken care of like this.

I watched his eyelids flutter as he rolled.

I’ll do right by you, kid. I promise.

I backed away, allowing Hazel to adjust a blanket on top of Teddy. She leaned in and kissed him before gently closing the curtain to his sleeping area.

Hazel stood and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and stifled a big yawn.

She stretched her arms. “I’m beat too.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. The small space of the skoolie closed in on me. The air was filled with her citrus-and-spice scent mingling with the lingering smoky aroma of the campfire. “I’ll put out the fire.”

Hazel nodded, and I escaped the confined quarters to pull in deep lungfuls of fresh, coastal air.

I needed to clear her from my head.

After dousing the fire, I returned to the skoolie. I could hear movement from the back of the bus, and I had assumed Hazel was settling into the living quarters in the back. I opened a cabinet above the couch and was relieved to find an extra blanket.

I stared at the tiny couch and grumbled.

When Hazel emerged from the room at the back, she was holding a pillow and blanket. I reached for them. “Thanks.”

Hazel shifted, pulling the pile away. “These are for me. I’ll take the couch.” She gestured toward the queen-size bed at her back. “You can take the bed.”

I flattened my stare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not the one being ridiculous. You’re never going to fit on that couch. I barely fit on it.”

I scowled. “I am not taking your bed, Hex.”

Hazel plopped the blanket and the pillow onto the floor and crossed her arms. “And I’m not letting you sleep out here.”

I mirrored her stance with my arms crossed and stared down at her. With her chin raised and a glint in her eyes, she was feisty and not backing down.

I fought the urge to get lost in the comfort of her soft brown eyes.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” she asked.

“What?”

“If I win, we share the bed and both get a good night’s rest. If you win, you can be a glutton for punishment and sleep out here, and I don’t have to feel bad about your shitty choices.”

My jaw clenched as I fought a smile. “You are impossible.”

Hazel grinned and thumped her fist on an open hand. “Thank you. Ready? On shoot.”

I rolled my eyes but readied my fist.

Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

Shit.

Her rock beat my scissors.

I blew out an annoyed breath. “Fuck me.”

Hazel tsked and grinned. “On the first date? What kind of girl do you think I am?”

My face heated as I watched her turn and head toward the back of the bus.

“Come on.” She smiled again. “Let’s get cozy.”

For a beat I stared at the couch. I could be a pouty bitch and sleep out there . . . I watched the curve of her ass as she retreated to the back of the bus—and temptation eventually won out.