Love Unwritten (Lakefront Billionaires, 2)

When Ellie told me she couldn’t join us because she was feeling sick, I was nervous about spending the day with Nico. I know it sounds ridiculous to be intimidated by my own kid, but it’s the truth. Ellie has been a buffer during our time in Oahu so far, and without her, I’m worried everything with Nico will revert to the way it was the last six months before our trip.

The bright sun turns my vision spotty for a few seconds before my eyes adjust.

“Pool or beach?” I ask my son.

He waves his metal detector in the air in a silent answer.

I lead him toward an unoccupied area near the shore, far from other children who could try to strike up a conversation with my son and steal him away.

Is it petty? Probably, but efficient nonetheless.

For the first twenty minutes or so, we both do our own thing. Nico plays with the metal detector Ellie packed for him while I pass the time reviewing the plans Julian sent me for the barn expansion.

Eventually, the temptation to check my work inbox becomes too great to ignore, so I open our work app and spare it a quick glance. I’ve never been away from work for longer than a week, and while I know Julian and my assistant are more than qualified to take care of everything, I still struggle to let go.

Julian calls me out on just that by pinging me through the app.

JULIAN

I see you’re online. If you answer a single message, I will take Nico up on his offer and replace you.

With that, I tuck my phone into the beach bag I brought and get up.

He’s your son. Stop being a nervous wreck and spend time with him.

With a long, extended breath, I walk over to Nico.

“Hey.”

He squints in my direction. “Hi.”

“What do you say we work on a sandcastle together?”

“But you’re busy.”

Great. In my effort to give Nico space and not come on too strong, I messed things up even more.

“Your tío told me if he caught me working again, he’d come here and kick my butt.”

Nico giggles. “No, he didn’t!”

“Yeah. Even threatened to send me back to Lake Wisteria.”

“Really?”

“Yup. So there’s no way I’m working anymore on this trip.”

His whole face lights up. “Good! Work is boring.” He practically sings the last word.

“True, but work also paid for all this.”

“So? Aren’t you a gazillionaire?”

“Nicolas,” I say in that no-bullshit parenting voice I picked up from my uncle.

He rolls his eyes. “What? All the kids at school say you have a million dollars!”

Just a few thousand of them, give or take.

But still, it is never too early to teach my son the importance of money and how growing up without it not only influenced me but his entire life. “You know that wasn’t always the case.”

His eyes widen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. My parents struggled a lot, so I didn’t have a lot of things while growing up. We never went on vacation or had a nice house.”

“What about music lessons?”

I shake my head. “Definitely not.”

“Did you have a TV?”

“Yes, but it only had a few channels.”

My life was a far cry from Nico’s, which means I did my job as a father, even if it meant sacrificing love and time to make it possible.

“I may have money now, but it wasn’t always like that, which is why I work hard to make sure you have all the things I always wanted but couldn’t have.”

“Oh.” His frown deepens. “I’m sorry for making fun of work.”

“It’s okay. I’m not telling you so you feel bad. I just want you to understand why working is important to me.”

He throws his arms around my waist and gives me a hug. “Thank you for working hard so we could come on vacation.”

My chest tightens as I ruffle his hair. “You’re welcome.”

I steer him away from the ocean and bring him back to our area. The tension between us becomes a distant memory as we each grab a bucket and our tools.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he questions me thirty minutes later.

“Kind of?”

On cue, part of the castle’s east wing crumbles.

Nico curls over and laughs. “I knew Ellie made that castle!”

“Hey! I helped.”

His brow arches into a perfect, condescending curve. “Si tu lo dices.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

His eyes narrow. “Mm. Was your nose always that big, or does it grow every time you lie?”

I throw the bucket aside and grab him. After making sure his glasses are secured with the strap wrapped around the back of his head, I throw him over my shoulder.

“No!” He bangs his fists against my back as I rush toward the ocean.

Si tu lo dices: If you say so.

Water hits my toes, followed by my calves, as I quickly submerge half my body. “This is what you get for saying I have a big nose.”

“I was kidding!”

I fake confusion. “Huh. You were?”

“Yes! I swear!”

I squint. “Hm. Your nose looks bigger now too.”

Nico’s response is cut off by his squeal as I toss him in the ocean with an evil laugh.

He surfaces a few seconds later with a death glare. “Not fair.”

“Neither is life, but you’ll get used to it.”

My son shows an impressive amount of strength and speed as he tackles me. I take him down with me as we both fall back, our bodies sinking beneath the surface. The salt water makes my eyes sting, and I screw them shut as I stand.

I’m greeted by a fresh ocean breeze and Nico’s deep belly laughs. I haven’t heard him like this in months, and it fills me with a burst of fatherly pride.

You did that.

And if things go my way, I hope to do it again.

Nico and I spend thirty minutes in the water together before he asks if we can head back to the beach.

“Let’s go.” I turn and give him my back.

He climbs on and wraps his arms around my neck. “Do you think Ellie is okay?”

Before Hawaii, a hot spike of jealousy always stabbed me in the chest whenever Nico brought up Ellie’s name. But now, I’m nothing but neutral as I pull out my phone and send her a text asking if she needs anything, along with a short video of Nico saying he misses her.

If you’re nothing but neutral, then why is your heart skipping a beat?

The betraying organ calls me out on the lie, reminding me exactly how I feel toward Nico’s nanny. A feeling I shouldn’t be having in the first place, for a few different reasons, but most of all for the kid who is the center of my universe.

While I’m not winning any Father of the Year awards, Nico makes me feel like I’m in the running again. He doesn’t seem as tense or withdrawn while we talk during lunch about this afternoon’s plan to head to the North Shore for our ATV tour.

Everything is going great until Nico shocks me with a whispered confession halfway through our meal.

“I had a nightmare last night.”

My world tilts as I try to process this new piece of information. “You did?”

He nods. “I get them sometimes.”

My throat feels tight. “I didn’t know that.”

His eyes drop to the remaining shrimp he has yet to eat. “That’s because I didn’t want to upset you.”

Rather than allow my sadness and self-loathing to take over, I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. “I’d never get upset about something like that.”

Knowing Nico was struggling with nightmares in silence reminds me so much of myself, and it makes me physically ache.

“I appreciate you telling me.”

He squints at me. “You do?”

“Of course. I’m not sure if I told you before, but I used to have nightmares too.”

“About what?”

Despite feeling like I’m being choked by my T-shirt collar, I plaster on a small, reassuring smile. “Things that scared me from my past.”

His brows knit together behind his glasses. “Really?”

I nod. “What are yours about?”

“I have dreams about not being able to see anything. I can hear everyone. Can smell and touch things too, but my vision is gone.”

I want to pull him into my arms and never let go, but I remain in my seat. “That does sound scary.”

His chin trembles. “One time, I was lost at the mall. All of a sudden, everything went dark. No one could help me find you.”

I reach for his hand. “I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares like these.”

He stares down at his lap. “I don’t want everything to go black.”

I shake my head. “The doctor told us that won’t happen.”

“I know, but what if they’re wrong?”

“No doctor can tell the future, but they have the science that shows you’ll be able to still see. And there are things we can do to help you.”

“But it won’t be the same. It’ll just keep getting worse.”

“You’re right.” Another sharp pain ricochets through my chest, but instead of allowing my grief to consume me, I channel it into helping my son process his fear. “But we will make the most of the vision you have.”

His frown morphs into a smile. “Does that mean we can go on vacation all the time?”

I laugh, which only makes his grin widen. “I’ll think about it.” While I can’t go on vacation as often as Nico would like, I can make them a top priority for us, ensuring he makes as many visual memories as possible.

We move on to lighter topics, like our future trip to the Mexico City Grand Prix with Ellie in October, before heading to the pickup location for our ATV tour.

Nico and I have a blast exploring the scenic valleys, dirt roads, and iconic movie locations in our two-passenger buggy. Nico’s smile never drops, his laughter is constant as I drive us around, and I enjoy making him squeal with sharp turns and small jumps.

We haven’t had this kind of long-lasting fun together in months, and I’m reluctant to drive us back to the drop-off location solely because I don’t want today to end.

You don’t need ATVs or a beach to make Nico happy. You just need to be you.

“You’ve got some dirt in your beard.” He laughs as he brushes my chin.

“Maybe I should shave it all off.” While I keep my beard nicely trimmed, sand or dirt like today’s still get caught in it, making for an itchy experience.

“Really?” His eyes go wide.

“Yeah.” I scratch at my cheek.

His smile expands. “Yay!”

“You don’t like it?”

His face turns red. “I didn’t say that.”

He didn’t have to.

“Okay then. Do you like it?”

He bites down on his bottom lip.

“I thought so.” I pull him in for a hug and rub my face against his, earning a loud laugh and a hard shove against my shoulder.

“Stop!” he squeals as I spread dirt across his cheeks.

“What did you say?”

“I said stop!” He speaks louder this time.

I release him. “You should have told me you didn’t like it sooner.”

A dark look passes over his face before he stares down at his feet.

My stomach muscles clench. “What’s wrong?”

He stays quiet.

“I was just kidding,” I say to put him at ease.

“I know,” he whispers.

“Did I say something to make you upset?”

He shakes his head.

“You can talk to me. I’m not going to get mad or anything.”

He takes a deep breath. “I overheard Dahlia and Lily talking about you.”

My lungs feel as though they’re being crushed by some invisible weight. “What did they say?”

“That you’re handsome, but you hide it because you’re sad.”

Mierda.

Hearing the truth from my son’s mouth hits hard. I internalized my despair and became someone else until I no longer recognized my own reflection.

It was easy to ignore the failure of a person I was by making him disappear altogether.

Nico’s comment sparks a new flame of hope in my chest.

I kneel in front of him. “Lily and Dahlia were right.”

His head snaps up. “They were?”

“Yeah. I stopped caring because I was sad.”

His bottom lip trembles.

“But I do disagree with one thing,” I add.

“What?”

“Being called handsome.”

He laughs. “Now you’re just being silly.”

“No. This is me being happy.”

His wariness remains. “Really?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

I park the Jeep back at the hotel an hour later. Nico struggles to carry the bags of supplies we—okay, mostly I—picked out for Ellie, but he refuses my help as he lugs them all the way back to our suite.

He leaves my room to go take a peek inside hers, only to return with a frown. “She fell asleep.”

“Maybe she’s still feeling sick?”

“Is it because we’re going on a plane again tomorrow?”

Shit. I didn’t even think of that, but it could explain some things. “Give me a minute.”

I call the concierge desk and request to speak with the hotel’s travel agent. Nico rifles through the bags of supplies we bought, waiting patiently for me to finish up.

While I’m busy on the phone, he accidentally sprays blue shaving cream all over my comforter.

“Oops! Sorry!” He rushes into the bathroom before coming back with a towel. “I got it!” He means well, but the mess only gets worse as he proceeds to spread it everywhere. I’m not sure how he even managed to get it in his hair, but a few strands are stuck together from the residue.

Thankfully, I hang up the phone a few minutes later and can finally give him my full attention.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” I lead him into the large en suite and place the bag of supplies on the counter. Nico pulls out his kid’s shaving kit and passes it to me.

“Can you open it?”

I spare him a look.

“Please.”

I help open the package enough for him to get the plastic shaver and shaving cream out for himself.

“This is fun.” He giggles as he covers the bottom half of his face. “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

I swallow my laugh as I run my new shaver under some hot water after splashing my face with it.

“Is it going to hurt?” He checks out the blades.

“No, as long as I don’t cut myself.”

“Does that happen?”

“Sometimes. I’m a bit out of practice.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t then.”

My chest clenches at the hint of fear in his voice.

“I’ll be fine.” I kiss the top of his head before I follow his lead and cover my beard with shaving cream. Nico quickly moves on from worrying about me, instead choosing to make squiggly lines across his face with the plastic razor.

“This is awesome!” He laughs.

I press my lips together to stop myself from smiling. With a steady hand, I run the razor from the middle of my neck upward. The swift stroke reveals skin that has been hidden for two years.

Two long, agonizing years.

I didn’t think a simple task like shaving could have such a visceral effect on me, but my next breaths prove otherwise.

It’s time for a change. I repeat the same motion, revealing another clear patch of skin.

You’re doing this for you. Me. Not Nico, although I’m happy he will no longer associate my lack of upkeep with my sadness, and I’m most definitely not doing this for my family, who will be happy to see my whole face again regardless.

Every swipe of the blade leads me closer to letting go of the old me. The broken me. The me that spent the last two years in a haze, hardly living at all.

I couldn’t be happier about the change. I want to look better because I care. Because I want to look past the person I was and accept the man that I can be.

Correction: the man I want to be.