Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)

“You’ve done an impressive job, Carter. I grew up without my parents, but I had other adults who saw to all my physical needs. I was book-smart, but I doubt I could have been as innovative as you.”


He felt his eyes burning and turned away. He was too old to cry in front of someone. “Yeah, I’m the man.”

* * *

“IT’S GOOD,” CARTER said, after he swallowed.

Felicia took a tentative bite, then nodded. “I agree. The lasagna turned out okay.” She sighed in relief. “Recipes often seem designed to defy success. Although I understand directions and follow them, the result isn’t always what I expect. Patience promised the recipe was foolproof, but sometimes people exaggerate about that. Or assume I have more ability than I do. People have been bringing casseroles to my office all day to help out while we all adjust to our new situation. So we won’t have to completely rely on my cooking.”

Gideon glanced down at his plate, wondering how he was supposed to fake eating. Or acting normal. Here he was, at his dining room table with Felicia and Carter. Felicia he could handle, but his kid? Jesus.

He was aware of the tightness in his body. Of the rapid pounding of his heart and the way it hurt to breathe. He needed to run until he couldn’t go any farther or simply disappear into the night. Only he couldn’t. Not now.

His gaze slid over Carter, then moved away. A son. He was unable to absorb the words or the meaning. If Ellie had told him about the baby before his time in the Taliban prison, maybe he would have felt different about being a father. Then again, maybe he would be dead now because of it. The other men there had crumbled under the torture because the longing for their loved ones had made them weak.

He remembered being held captive. The long nights, the longer days. How they’d beaten him, cut him, hooked him up to a battery until he’d screamed for mercy. One by one, the other men captured with him had given in to the darkness that claimed their souls. They’d died calling out for wives and children. Only Gideon had survived. He’d been able to go into himself, to think of nothing, miss nothing, be nothing. Loving had made the other men weak.

Carter glanced at him. “I saw the media room. Sweet setup.”

Felicia laughed. “I agree. You have an impressive man cave.”

Gideon shrugged, unable to think of what he was supposed to say. “You, ah, know how to work everything?”

“Uh-huh.” The teen nodded. “I looked over the movies. A lot of action flicks. Some are pretty old, but I’ll try them.” He looked at Felicia. “No Sleepless in Seattle for you.”

“I haven’t seen that movie,” she admitted.

“You should. It was my mom’s favorite. Kind of romantic. She always cried at the end.”

“Happy crying?” she asked.

Carter stared at his plate and nodded.

Gideon sensed he was uncomfortable, no doubt missing his mother. The past year would have been tough for the kid. He was resourceful, which was good. Smart. Not Felicia smart, but she was in a class by herself.

He wondered what Ellie had told Carter about him. If she’d said much more beyond the fact that he wasn’t father material. He wasn’t angry with her decision—he agreed with it. Only now he was stuck and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was barely seven, but he knew he couldn’t stay much longer. The walls were closing in. He needed time by himself. A chance to disconnect. Only he hadn’t eaten and there was Carter.

He reached for his glass of water, saw his hand was shaking, then dropped the arm to his side.

“Gideon, go.” Felicia stared at him intently. “You have time before you have to be at the radio station. Go for a run. You can shower at the station afterward.”

If he could run, he could breathe, he thought, not sure how she’d figured out what was wrong, but grateful she had. He nodded once and stood. Carter looked at him, but once again he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

Felicia followed him out of the kitchen. In the hallway, she spoke softly. “It will get easier.”

He stared into her beautiful eyes. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it more than nearly anything he’d ever said. “Thank you for helping. I couldn’t do this without you. You’re great with him.”

She smiled. “I like him. Give it time. You’ll like him, too.”

* * *

“HE’S NOT HAPPY to see me,” Carter said when she returned to the table.

Felicia wondered if this was one of those moments where it was better to lie. She hadn’t expected to have to make parenting decisions so unexpectedly. With a newborn, she would work her way to the more difficult conversations. Now she was thrust in the middle of a situation for which she had no training and minimal instincts.

“He’s adjusting,” she said. “Your father went through a lot. He was held prisoner for a couple of years.”

Carter’s dark eyes widened. “No way.”

She thought about the scars on Gideon’s honed body. “He’s still adjusting. It’s why he lives out here. So he can be alone.”