The Brick Wall

Chapter 67

Collins POV

Dottie's comment shocked me, but it was the death glare Curtis gave his mother that sent me into a fit of laughter. Their relationship is just too precious, a sweet disposition but yet she can put him in his place as though he's a young teenager and not a single father nearing the age of thirty.

It must be my laugh that makes Curtis' look falter, the side eye fading away to a whole other surprise set of words. "Give me a little more time, Ma. It has only been a few weeks."

I fight the urge to lift my hand and fan my face as the heat builds. I have a feeling that I probably look nearly like a clown with bright red cheeks. I need to save face, but have zero clue of what type of witty comeback I could give that wouldn't make this situation more awkward.

Thankfully, Curtis' cell goes off with a text message. He thumbs over to it while Lennox makes grabby hands trying to reach for it. I pull her chubby palms up to my mouth and kiss all over them, loving her sweet giggles that fill the room.

"Well, that answers that question, I guess."

My brow furrows as I put my attention down to his screen. It's my brother's name at the top with the words "You're starting tomorrow. Be ready," typed out in a message.

  "Think the higher ups are worried about you being poached out from under them?" I teasingly ask.  

  "I doubt it. Mark has a pretty good hold over his team, management kind of leaves all that on him."

  Dottie chimes in, "Maybe they want to feed off your popularity from being all over ESPN and Sportsnet."

  I watch with pleasure at the growing blush under the scruff of his beard. It's precious when it happens, which is very rare considering he's usually the one laying on the compliments rather heavily. 

  Sitting there with Lennox in my arms, I listen to the two of them go back and forth with teasing comments, thankful that Curtis has his mother in his life, that she helps build him up rather than walking away after the surprise of Len was left on his doorstep.

  Speaking of the little girl, she turns into my chest, tucking her thumb into her mouth and nuzzling her nose against my neck.  "You getting sleepy, my angel?"

  Curtis places his fork down on his half empty plate. "I'll take her. She needs a bath, I'm sure. Don't want that baby food to start growing taters out of her ears." He leans in, using his finger to tickle into her side, sending her head back in a cackle. 

  "I've got her," I tell him, standing up from the table.

  "Don't you want to get to be?" he offers.

  I playfully lean into the little girl's chubby cheeks as though I'm biting them, earning me more giggles. "No. I think spending some time with my girl is exactly what I need. Tell GaGa and Daddy good night, Lenny Lou." I grab her hand, pushing her palm into her lips before she's pulling it away as though she's blowing them a kiss. 

  Once I've gotten Lennox bathed, covered in lavender lotion and her pacifier in place, I give her a kiss to her forehead and rock her for a few moments as her eyes grow increasingly heavy.  I quietly sing to her, finding increasing comfort in being in this apartment that is filled to the brim in love between a man and his mother, a man and his daughter, and apparently a man and myself.  

  Even after everything that Curtis has said, and Dottie reiterated on my own couch, I'm not in the same place that Curtis is where love is concerned. I'm not saying it's impossible, nor that it will never happen. But I have along way to go with myself before I can even think of saying those three simple words to him.