Capturing Peace

Chapter Seven

Reagan—­September 3, 2010

I GLANCED ANXIOUSLY over to my left, as I had so many times this morning, and tried not to lose what little breakfast I’d managed to eat when I saw Coen running in this direction off in the distance. I hadn’t told Coen we would be here, I’d just hoped he would have called if he was going to show up. Looking back at the playground, I easily found where Parker and Jason were playing together and tried to stay focused on them instead of seeming like I was avoiding Coen.

Which I was.

“Morning,” he said through heavy breaths as he came to a stop near me.

“Mmm” was my only response as I tried not to eye him standing there.

“Um . . . are you just going to act like you can’t see me now?” he asked a ­couple minutes later when I still hadn’t said anything to him.

I turned toward him, my eyebrows bunching together. “I said good morning, didn’t I?”

He laughed hard once and eyed me curiously. “Are you okay?”

I huffed and turned to face the playground again. “I’m making sure Parker’s safe.”

“Hmm . . .” Coen mused next to me. “Sitting on the concrete playing with figurines. That’s some dangerous shit right there.”

“Language, Coen.” I groaned and rolled my eyes as I faced him again. “And like we’ve declared, you don’t have kids, so you don’t know how fast something can go wrong.”

“Coen!”

We both turned at Parker’s voice and Coen braced himself just in time for Parker to launch himself at Coen. “What’s up, bud?”

“Did you come to play?”

“Not today, I was just on a run and thought I’d come say hi. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah!” Parker said excitedly and threw his arm straight out in front of him and pointed at the temporary tattoo. “And everyone thinks I’m the coolest because I’m just like you now.”

Coen’s smile widened and he held up his fist for Parker to hit it. “You do look pretty cool, bud. I’m not gonna lie. If it stays on through next week, you’ll be the coolest first grader too.”

My chest warmed watching them interact, and I felt my lips spread into the most ridiculous smile. Remembering this morning, the smile quickly fell from my face and I crossed my arms over my chest—­as if that could ward off the warmth I felt watching them together.

“Are you coming over again soon?”

Coen shrugged and nodded toward me. “I don’t know, that’s up to your mom.”

“Mom, can Coen come over again?”

Looking over at me, Coen lowered his voice so Parker couldn’t hear him. “Yeah, Reagan . . . can I come over again?”

I didn’t miss the suggestive tone in his question, and just as I was about to give him a look telling him to cool it in front of Parker, he started wrapping his arm around my waist, and I jumped away from him. Coen’s arm fell, as did his expression before confusion settled over his face.

“Uh, we’ll see, honey. Why don’t you go back to playing with Jason . . . unless you’re ready to leave?”

“No, Mom, please? Can we stay longer?”

I just nodded and smiled until he turned and ran back to where Jason was still sitting, and sighed in relief—­knowing we’d gotten through a conversation without Parker mentioning the dad thing.

“Hey,” Coen said softly, and reached for my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Stop,” I hissed, and moved away from him.

Coen looked at me in shock, his mouth slightly open as he tried to find the words to say. “Rea—­”

“You can’t just touch me like that in front of Parker,” I whispered, and looked around to see if anyone was near us.

Coen’s eyebrows shot up, and he blinked slowly at me. “You’re . . . you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. He’ll start getting used to seeing that, and I don’t want him to.”

“Are you—­I don’t fucking understand where all this is coming from, Reagan. Just last night I kissed you in front of him. Fuck, you kissed me in front of him. You were lying in my arms in front of him while we watched the movie. And now all of a sudden I can’t put my arm around you? I can’t hold your damn hand? Something I did the first night we all hung out together? What has changed since last night that I don’t know about?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, and focused on Parker instead of Coen. “I just think that all of this is too much. You spending time with us, being around Parker, him getting used to you . . .”

He laughed and ran a hand over his head, but there was an edge to the laugh. He knew I was shutting him out, and from the look in his eyes, he was terrified. “Isn’t that the point? For him to get used to me? For him to get to know me? For me to get to know him? All of this as a part of wanting to be with his mom?”

Locking my jaw when I saw his confused and hurt expression, I tried to find the will to say what was needed, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Tell me what happened. Tell me what that mind of yours is scaring you with now, Reagan. Because I went to your apartment for the first time last night, something I know you don’t let anyone do. I spent time making dinner and watching a movie with you and your son.” Coen closed the distance between us and gritted, “When he went to sleep, I was buried so deep inside you I had to keep my hand over your fucking mouth so he wouldn’t hear you screaming.”

“Coen!” I scolded, and searched wildly to make sure no one could hear us.

“You begged me to stay with you, and last night was the best. Night. Of my damn life. You and I both agreed Parker seeing me in the morning was too soon. And I’ve only been gone from you for four hours. So, tell me. What am I missing?”

“I just realized that all of this was too much. Okay? It’s all going too fast for me, and I’m not ready for this. I never wanted a relationship; or have you already forgotten that? I don’t want you in our life, Coen.”

Coen’s body went rigid, and his mouth slowly opened as he stared at me. “Bullshit,” he breathed.

I felt sick. But I needed to do this now. I needed to do this before we got more attached and he ran, and I had no doubt, especially if he heard Parker calling him “Dad”, he would run. “I’m sorry, Coen.”

He shook his head back and forth as he continued to watch me. Glancing over at Parker, his forehead pinched together and a sadness fell over his features before they hardened and he looked back at me. “Hope I was a good distraction for you, Reagan.”

A huff of air blew past my lips. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, but I couldn’t stop him from leaving. This needs to be done. The sooner the better. You’re doing the right thing for Parker.

Without another word, Coen turned and started running back toward his condo, and my chest ached. How had this man fallen into our lives, and so quickly embedded himself in my son’s and my heart? Looking back at Parker, I continued to chant to myself that I’d done the right thing, but nothing about what had just happened, or the loss I currently felt, felt like the right thing.

“KEEGAN, PLEASE BE home,” I whispered to myself as I knocked on the door of his apartment a few hours later.

“Where are we?”

Glancing down at Parker, I tried to smile and keep my tone light as I said, “Uncle Keegan’s new apartment.”

“All right! I get to show him how I’m just like Coen now!” he said excitedly, and looked down at his arm, and I bit down on my cheek to stop the agonized cry from leaving me.

“Keegan,” I groaned, and knocked harder.

“Ray, what the—­hey, little man!” Keegan sent me a hard look before smiling down at Parker and holding his hand up for Parker to slap.

“Is Erica here?” I asked anxiously.

“Uh . . . yeah?”

“Can she watch Parker while I talk to you?”

“Uh, Ray—­”

“Hey, Parker!” Erica came around Keegan and held out her hand for Parker. “Come hang out with me for a little bit.”

“Look what Coen gave me!” Parker said and held out his arm.

Erica and Keegan shared a look before Erica smiled at him again. “That’s awesome! Come tell me all about it, okay?”

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, and waited until Erica and Parker rounded the corner on the left before I looked at Keegan and broke down. “I’m freaking out! I don’t know what to do, I was—­I said a lot to Coen to make him think I didn’t want to be with him. I know he was hurt, and it killed me, but—­oh, God, Keegan . . . I couldn’t do it.” I took deep breaths in and out and walked into the living room to drop onto the couch. “He’d leave someday. I know he would. And Parker was falling so in love with him. You should see them together! They’ve barely spent any time together, and already they’re so close.”

“Reagan—­”

“He came over last night, and it was perfect. The three of us, the whole thing, it was perfect,” I choked out. My throat felt like it was closing up, but I refused to start crying over this now. I was afraid once I started crying, I wouldn’t stop. “But this morning when I woke Parker up, he asked if Coen was going to be his dad.”

Keegan’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. “Uh . . .”

I moved my hands frantically in front of me as I tried to get him to understand the enormity of that. “Two nights together. Two, Keegan. Well, three I guess if you count the dinner when you got out. But that’s beside the point. Three nights, and he asked if Coen was going to be his dad. And he sounded like he wanted it, you know?”

“Seriously, Ray—­”

“Then, you know what he told me? He told me the next time he saw Coen, he was going to ask if he could call him ‘Dad.’ I know Coen would eventually leave, and I’ve been protecting Parker and me from that for years . . . but I kept letting myself hope that maybe somehow it would be different because for the first time I actually wanted to be with someone. But after this morning? Well, honestly, it kinda scared the shit out of me how fast all this progressed. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt right for Coen and me. But I knew—­I just knew if Parker said that to him it would scare Coen away. And I wouldn’t know how to explain to Parker that he wasn’t the reason Coen wasn’t coming around anymore.” I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to ramble. I needed to freak out to my big brother so I wouldn’t lose it while I was alone with Parker later. “I don’t know if Parker is old enough to understand all of this yet. God, I feel sick. I hated saying that to Coen. I just don’t know, Keegan. But I couldn’t risk him running away from us—­”

“So instead you pushed me away?”

I shot up off the couch and turned around to see Coen standing in Keegan’s kitchen, his face livid.

“Oh God,” I whispered, and placed a hand on my sensitive stomach. I was going to throw up . . . or faint. I just couldn’t figure out which.

“Instead of letting it all play out . . . instead of letting me surprise you, you took all that away from me. You made my decision for me because you were so sure I would leave when I heard that?”

“It hasn’t even been two weeks, Coen! Not even two weeks with Parker and he wants you to be his dad. You can’t tell me that doesn’t freak you out.”

He laughed and lifted his hands in the air before letting them drop to his sides. “Well, according to you, that’s exactly what it does. It freaks me out and makes me want to run.”

“What twenty-­four-­year-­old wants to suddenly become a father to a six-­year-­old?” I argued, and flung my arm in the direction of the room Parker and Erica were in.

Coen’s eyebrows slammed down and his eyes narrowed. “I can’t think of many,” he said darkly before walking to the back of the couch and resting his hands on the top of it. “But tell me this. What guy goes into a relationship with a single mother and doesn’t factor her kid into that relationship?”

Crossing my arms, I met his dark stare and laughed humorlessly. “A lot, actually.”

“Yeah. A lot of assholes who don’t care about the most important thing in their girlfriend’s life. And if that’s how you view me, then you were right to end this,” he said, and waved his hand between us. “Because that means you don’t know me at all. Well, apparently you do since you knew without a doubt I would run away from you,” he sneered.

“And you’re telling me you wouldn’t? You’re telling me one day you wouldn’t leave?” I nearly yelled, and covered my mouth when I realized that I was. Looking back over to Keegan, I realized he wasn’t in the room anymore and I wasn’t sure if I was glad for that or not.

“I don’t know, Reagan. ­People date, they break up. Others date and get married. Who knows what would’ve happened between us?”

“That’s it!” I flung my hand out toward him before bringing it back to rub at my forehead. “That’s exactly it. There is a very real possibility that we would’ve broken up anyway, and Parker was getting too attached as it was. If I had let our relationship go on, only for it to end months or years down the road . . . it would crush him. This is why I don’t let men into our lives.”

“No, it’s because you’re fucking scared!” he yelled, and I jumped back. “I get not wanting to have a bunch of guys coming in and out of his life. I get that, and I think you’re right in not wanting that for him. But you’re not giving yourself the chance to be with someone, and you’re not giving Parker the chance to ever have a dad because the first guy in six years who you’ll give the time of day, you push away after only a ­couple weeks.”

“I’m protecting him!” I gritted out.

“Yeah, you’re protecting him. There are also ­people who put their kids in plastic bubbles because they don’t want them to get sick. Are you gonna do that too?”

“Do not belittle me for the way I am living and have raised my son!”

The anger slowly left Coen’s face, leaving only pain. “You’re an amazing mom. There’s no questioning that,” he said gruffly as he rounded the couch and walked toward me until he had me backed up against a wall. “But you’re scared of getting hurt, and you’re terrified Parker will get hurt as the result. I get it. I swear to God I get it.”

I shook my head and tried to steady my quivering jaw. He couldn’t understand. No one—­unless they were in my situation—­could understand.

“You’re right, Reagan. Actually being a father hasn’t crossed my mind. And, no, I don’t know how I would have reacted if Parker had asked me if he could call me that; but I know it wouldn’t have made me bolt for the door. Because I knew he came with you. And you? God, woman, you fucking know how to piss me off . . . but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you so damn bad. But I do know this. I know that your son is the coolest fucking kid I’ve ever met. I know that last night was the best night of my life. The whole night, not just after Parker went to bed. I know that I want a lot more nights just like it. And I know that what did freak me out, was the thought of not having it again when you were telling me it was over this morning.”

“Coen . . .” I swallowed roughly and looked away when his thumb brushed against my jaw. “I’m trying to save all of us a lot of hurt down the road. This can’t work between us.”

“How do you figure? Because last night and this morning, I could’ve sworn you were thinking the opposite.”

My cheeks heated and I tried to push away the memories that kept assaulting me from our time together. “Almost all of our conversations begin with arguments. Have you realized that?”

“Yeah,” he said without missing a beat. “And how have all of those arguments ended? Just like this one. With you in my arms, and with you fighting what you want.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, Coen. It can’t be healthy for ­people in a relationship to have most their conversations start as fights. What if Parker starts catching on to that? And I don’t willingly go into your arms, you always back me up against something so I don’t have any other option!”

Coen just smiled and shook his head once as he got somehow, impossibly, closer to me. “We argue because you’re a bitch and I’m a dick, and neither of us know how to keep our mouths shut. We argue because you’re usually fighting me on something, or trying to protect yourself and Parker, and I’m trying to get you to see how ridiculous you’re being. We argue because that’s our way of talking through things. We get loud, yeah, but we don’t scream at each other, we don’t throw shit, and you will never in your life see me raising a hand to you or any woman. So we argue? Who fucking cares, Reagan? At least we don’t have to worry about our first fight. At least we don’t have to worry about communication issues. This is how we talk, and when we’ve talked everything out, we’re fine.”

“Always the charmer, Coen. You really think you can call me a bitch, and I’ll just swoon or something because you tried to justify it?”

He looked at me for a few seconds before whispering, “Yeah, Duchess, I do.”

“That’s not how—­” My words cut off on a high-­pitched whimper when his mouth pressing firmly against mine, and it took a few seconds of giving into his kiss before I pushed him back. “No, I’m not done being mad!”

Coen’s dark eyes held mine, the humor now gone. “You’re not mad at me, Reagan. You’re trying to protect yourself again, and in doing that you’ve tried to find reasons to be pissed. If anyone should be mad here, it’s me. You tried to take you and Parker from me because you thought I would run. You tried to take away my say in our relationship. If I really thought you wanted to break up, then this wouldn’t be happening. But I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m not going to let you.”

“I’m—­”

“Scared. You’re scared, baby, I know.”

My jaw trembled harder and tears pricked at the back of my eyes.

“We can have this argument a thousand more times than we already have, Duchess, and I’m still going to be here, fighting for our chance. What Parker said scared you today. Not me. You. But like I said, I know you don’t want to break up. I know you want this just as bad as I do. We can go back a few steps, we can slow things down. I won’t come over, I won’t stay the night . . . whatever it takes for you not to be scared.”

“We can’t, Coen, that’s just it. Did you not hear what I said to Keegan? Everything’s fast with us, but fast feels right when I’m with you. I just—­” I cut off on a strained sob and dropped my face into my hands. “This isn’t some insecurity of mine that you will leave me. This isn’t me being ridiculous because I don’t want to lose you. I can’t have Parker lose you, do you understand? I can’t have him fall in love with you and lose you! It seems dumb to you, it may seem dumb to everyone . . . but his heart is my priority . . . not mine.”

Coen moved my hands from my face, and tilted my head back so he could brush the tears back. He stayed silent for long minutes as he cradled my face in his hands, and I braced myself for when he would finally agree with me. Agree that he couldn’t do this.

“I can’t promise a future, Reagan,” he began softly. “I can’t promise a future because I’ve seen too many lives cut short. Nothing is certain. But with what you know about me, with how I feel about you; you can be assured that leaving you—­leaving the woman who silences my demons—­is the last thing I want. You asked me why I pushed so hard for this . . . do you not see me still fighting for us? Fighting after only a ­couple weeks for something that neither of us can guarantee?”

Blinking away more tears, I looked up into his pained expression, and everything in me ached at the hurt I saw there.

“You’re terrified of what will happen to you and Parker if I leave . . . have you even realized that you already gave me a taste of what it would be like for you to leave?”

“Coen,” I cried out, and covered my mouth with shaky hands.

“I can’t promise you forever. But neither can you. All I can promise you is that I want you, I want to be with you, I want to be there for your son—­and I can’t begin to fathom hurting either of you.” His dark eyes moved back and forth between mine for a few seconds. “Okay?”

I nodded and managed to choke out, “ ’Kay.”

A soft breath blew past his lips as relief settled over his face. “Now can we stop with this bullshit? I told you, I’ll have this same fight with you a thousand times, but Duchess, that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t stop. There has to be some kind of trust between us. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” I whispered.

Brushing a kiss across my lips, he wiped my cheeks with his thumbs once more before letting his forehead fall against mine and releasing a heavy sigh. “Jesus Christ, Duchess. I told you, you’ll be the death of me,” he said softly, before stepping back and bringing me away from the wall.

Walking us back toward the couch, he pulled me down so I was sitting sideways on his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

His hand paused for a second before continuing on the path up and down my back. “I know you are. But we fought it out, talked everything through, and it’s behind us now. So there’s no need to say you’re sorry anymore.”

I couldn’t even remember if I’d said sorry before, and I needed to apologize for everything I’d done. I looked up at him, and waited for his dark eyes to meet mine. “I’m not sure if I agree with—­”

“Parker, wait!” I heard Erica say just before I heard my son’s voice. “Coen!”

Coen easily slid me off his lap, a large smile replacing the worn-­out mask from our fight. “Hey, bud!”

“Are you going to be my dad?” Parker jumped up on the couch on the other side of Coen and waited expectantly for an answer.

Even though Coen knew this was probably coming, even though we’d just talked—­er, fought—­about this, my body still tensed at what Coen’s reaction would be.

Coen seemed to think really hard for Parker’s benefit before shrugging slowly. “I don’t know, bud. Your mom and I still have a long ways to go before we’ll know that.”

Parker’s face scrunched together, and I knew he didn’t understand why Coen didn’t have a definite answer right now.

“But I promise you this: You’ll be the first one to know if I get to become your dad. Deal?” Coen asked, holding out his hand.

Parker slapped his hand against Coen’s and smiled widely at him. “Deal!”

Get to . . . he said get to become your dad. My heart warmed and somehow seemed to ache even more when I realized I’d almost taken this away from all of us. Again.

When Parker took off for the kitchen, Coen leaned toward me and pulled my legs over his lap again. “Jesus. Thank God you warned me about that. If I would’ve gone into that blind, I might have taken off.” Coen blew out a heavy breath before giving me a teasing grin.

I slapped his stomach and narrowed my eyes at him. “You just ruined this perfect illusion I was having of you.”

He smiled warmly and pulled me closer to place kisses behind my ear. “Then we’re right where we should be, Duchess, because I’m nowhere near perfect.”