by LK Farlow
Her smile dims a little, and while I want to dig into why, the middle of a family lunch is not the time or place. “Hey, Cruz,” I say, redirecting my attention, “we’re going to go to the aquarium tomorrow!”
My little dude bounces in his seat, his excitement a live wire. “That’s where the sharks are, right? And octopuses?”
“That’s right, bud.”
“Yes!” He throws his gangly arms in the air, celebrating like he scored a touchdown.
The rest of lunch flies by in a blur of fried food and soda refills. By the end of the meal, Cruz’s tiredness is back and Mama Mel offers for her and Mama K to bring him home for a rest instead of shopping.
I know he’s used to having quiet time when Ashley keeps him, so I readily agree. Not to mention, he’ll get a little extra time with his grandmothers, and I’ll get a little more alone time with a certain little temptress.
Sounds like a double-win to me.
32
Ashley
“Got anywhere you want to go?” Colton asks as we walk to his car.
“I need to grab a gift for Mally and Natalie.”
“What kind of gift?”
“A baby gift,” I reply, hoping Colton doesn’t catch my wistful tone.
But he does. Of course, he does. “Do you want kids?”
“Glob, yes!” My cheeks burn. “You know, one day. In the future.”
“Why do you do that?” he asks.
“Do what?”
“Say that—glob?”
I think I’d rather discuss kids. “Um, my grammy raised me, and I wasn’t allowed to say ‘God’ at all, unless I was praying, so I started saying glob.”
“You’ve never talked about her before…” he presses, expertly navigating us to whatever destination he has in mind.
I shrug. “Not much to say. She was a militant, mean old woman who died the day after I turned eighteen.”
“Is, uh, is she your only family?”
“Yup,” I pop the P, hating this conversation with every ounce of my being.
“I feel like I’m missing something. You’re so carefree, vibrant, and spirited.”
“Everything she wasn’t. If Grammy would have had her way, I’d have gone to an all-girls school and wifed up after I graduated, if only to get me out of her perfectly set hair.” I laugh darkly. “But there wasn’t one in our area, and she couldn’t afford to send me off. Our relationship was…tenuous, at best, borderline abusive at worst.”
I lay my head against the cool glass of the car window. “I never really had any friends in high school, because she never let me go anywhere. After she died, I kind of went buck wild. I was young and didn’t know myself. I’d only ever been the good, quiet girl she wanted me to be, so I cycled through every clique there was, every trend, every fad. I kind of just threw a bunch of personalities at the wall, and this is the one that stuck.”
“How’d you end up taking pictures?”
“Luck?” I say it more like a question than an answer. “Somewhere between my hippie and artsy phases, a camera landed in my hand. And while I can’t draw for shit, I really liked the way images spoke.”
“You’re meant for it,” Colton says. “A natural.”
“It took a lot of digging and a lot of practice, but I’m…thankful. It’s funny, actually; the first person I ever took pictures of was Mally. We ended up as roomies, and she likes to say I saved her, but I think she saved me, too.”
“What about…” He pauses, and I know what’s coming. “Your parents?”
“They were both only children. They died when I was four in a wreck. I—I don’t really even remember them.”
Colton smoothly guides his car into a parking spot in front of a little strip of stores. Before I can speak, much less move, he has us both unbuckled and me wrapped in his arms. The center console digs into me, but I don’t care, because the feeling of him holding me, consoling me, is everything.
I don’t realize I’m crying until Colton releases me and wipes away my tears. “It’s okay, you’re okay. God, Ashley, you’re strong and beautiful and funny and so damn kind.”
“Thank you. Truly.” I flip down the visor mirror and check my reflection—I’m no worse for wear, as my splotchy cheeks blend in with my slight sunburn. “Hey, while we’re on the whole family thing, your moms…”
“Adopted me. My bio-mom is actually Mel’s sister. She had cancer and chose to have me over treatment. She knew it would kill her, but she said I was worth it and had my adoption all set up before I was ever born.”
My tears start anew. “Oh, Colt—I’m so sorry.”
He gives me a wobbly grin. “Mama Mel and Mama K are all I’ve ever known. Mel’s parents pretty much wrote her off when she came out, and they did the same with my bio-mom when she wouldn’t abort me. I’ve never met them, and to be honest, I don’t really want to.”
Impulsively, I lean over to press a kiss to his lips. It’s a chaste kiss, over before it begins, but it’s enough to comfort him and me both. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
“Damn right they don’t.” He winks before turning to exit the car.
I climb out after him, rounding the hood to meet him. “Where are we going?”
“Google said STORK was the best baby store around, and you need baby gifts, so yeah—here we are.”
I’m touched by his thoughtfulness. I figured we’d hit up the nearest Target, not go to an upscale baby boutique. Then again, with Colton, I should have known better. From raising his son, to defending his clients, to orgasms, the man doesn’t half-ass anything.
Baby fever hits me the second we step into the boutique, completely wiping out my lingering melancholy from our talk in the car. The space is artfully arranged, showcasing a variety of luxurious baby items. They have swaddles and quilts, teethers and rattles, as well as a small selection of gorgeous baby clothes.
The far end of the shop is divided into five small rooms, each one a different style nursery.
It’s a little overwhelming, the wall-to-wall baby madness, but at the same time, I’m itching to explore it all. Glob knows how long it’ll be until I have a baby of my own, so I might as well spoil my bestie and her babies until then.
I start at the front of the store, with Colton following dutifully behind me, holding all of my purchases while I shop. I grab two swaddles—one pink and one blue—along with two super-soft knotted gowns. I grab the matching hat and headband as well, along with two pacifiers.
“Okay! Now I just need something for Natalie’s kids.”
Colton’s eyes bug out. “This is all for one kid?”
“First of all, you’re hardly one to talk—do you remember Cruz’s shopping trip? Second, Mally is having twins.”
“Point made.”
I smile at his concession before grabbing a Noodle and Boo gift set for Natalie’s baby, along with a set of kid-friendly bath bombs for Tatum, her daughter.
“All set.”
Honestly, I could spend a lot longer, perusing the displays, but my ovaries are practically raring to go, screaming Ricky Bobby style that they wanna go fast! Preferably with the man acting as my shopping cart.
I pay for my haul, and we stow my bags in Colton’s car before checking out the other shops in the strip. We hit up the toy store and a bookstore for Cruz, as well as an arts and crafts store for me to restock.
“Hey, let’s run in here really fast,” Colton says, nodding toward a flower shop.
The door of the shop is rose-petal red and the word Stems is spelled across the glass insert in a green, vine-like script.
“Sure.”
Inside, there is display after display of various bouquets. They range from simple to absolutely over the top, and I love them all. One of my favorite things about shooting weddings is the detail pics; there’s something about capturing and highlighting the little details that might be forgotten twenty years down the road but meant so much on the day.
Not bothering to loo
k around, Colton strolls straight up to the counter and orders two bouquets—one for each of his mothers. With the florist’s assurance they’ll be delivered tomorrow, we decide to call it a day and head home.
33
Colton
After another long night spent worshiping Ashley with my fingers and tongue, I’m tempted to sleep in. But I’ve got a little work to do this morning before we head out to Bay Ridge, so I’m up at my normal time.
As much as it pains me to leave the warmth of the bed—and Ashley’s body—I slide out from beneath the covers and quickly work through some stretches before hopping in the shower.
I turn the water to steaming and lather up. As I run my hands over my body, memories of all of the dirty things Ashley and I did in here together race to the forefront of my mind as my blood races straight to my dick. Squirting a little more soap into my hand, I get myself off under the hot spray, wishing like hell it was Ashley’s sweet little pussy milking me and not my own two hands.
After my shower, I dress for the day and head downstairs. Mama K is already in the kitchen, a pot of coffee percolating while she fries up a pan of bacon.
“Morning,” she says in greeting, passing me a mug.
“What are you making?”
“Just a little breakfast hash.”
“Mm. Yum.”
“I figured since that boy of yours is a good eater, he wouldn’t mind the veggies.”
I snort out a laugh. “You can thank Ashley for that.”
“She has a way with him, huh?”
“That she does.”
“So, when are you going to make it official?”
“Make what official?” I ask, parking myself at the island and pulling up my email.
“You and the girl. When are you going to, as they say, put a ring on it?”
“Mama K, I think you have the wrong idea about Ashley and me.”
No, she doesn’t, that stupid voice in the back of my mind whispers.
“I most certainly do not!” My mother looks downright affronted. “That girl is meant for you. It’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes.” She cuts her eyes at me. “Except you, apparently.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Mama K.”
“Colty, you don’t want to know how I really feel.”
My stubbornness, which I come by honestly from the woman glaring at me across the kitchen, sinks its claws in. “I do. Tell me.”
“You asked for it, boy.
“I think you have yourself a helluva sweet set-up, and you’re too chicken-shit to try for more for fear you might ruin it. But what you forget is sometimes taking a chance—a risk—is the only way to get the reward.”
“And you think Ashley’s my reward?”
“I think she could easily be your queen, my sweet, foolish boy. The question is, are you willing to put in the work to woo her?”
Mama K turns her back to me, telling without words that our talk is over. I sift through a few emails, replying to the ones that require it and cataloging the rest into the proper folders so I don’t lose them.
West has tried—countless times—to convince me to hire help, from bringing in a partner to a PA, but I’m not interested. I have my system down pat and have less than zero desire to teach it to someone new.
However, now that I have Cruz, I’m starting to wonder if the idea doesn’t have some merit. At the least, an assistant would free up a little more time to spend with him.
At 7:15 a.m., Cruz and Mama Mel join us. Still half asleep, my little guy crawls into my lap. I hold him to my chest, rocking us both slightly. “You sleep good, 005?”
“Yeah, Daddy, but I’m real excited to see the sharks.”
“We’re going to head that way around lunchtime. Why don’t you go watch some TV until breakfast is ready?”
He nods and takes off for the living room.
“How about you?” Mama Mel asks in his wake. “How did you sleep?”
For a split-second I worry she overheard what Ashley and I got up to, and maybe she did, but God knows, I’m smart enough not to admit guilt or self-incriminate. “Like a baby. That mattress was a solid investment.”
Before either woman can reply, Ashley pads into the room, dressed in a loose-fitting jumpsuit with her long purple hair in a braid and her feet still bare. “Good morning,” she chirps happily.
My eyes track her as she breezes into the room, helping herself to a cup of coffee before taking a seat on the stool next to me. Without thinking through the repercussions, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to her temple.
I don’t think twice about it until I catch the look Mama Mel is shooting Mama K. They’re having some kind of silent conversation—and Ashley and I are definitely the topic.
I have no regrets, though, because in truth, the idea of being able to touch her whenever the hell I like sounds like a damn dream come true.
After breakfast—which Cruz declares is his new favorite—I find myself on my own once again. Mama K and Mel took Cruz into the backyard to introduce him to the wonders of water gun art. It was one of my favorite things as a kid, and I love that my moms are passing it down to him. Ashley tagged along to snap some pics of the trio.
I use my free time to do something I never do—nap. I drift in and out of sleep on the couch as dreams of Ashley flash behind my lids. Dreams of her being Cruz’s mom, and the three of us being one big happy family. It’s funny, because two months ago, the thought of her being my anything would have been a nightmare.
The sound of knocking wakes me. I check my watch—right on time—and stretch before hauling myself up from the couch. I check the peephole on the door before venturing out back to get everyone.
“Someone knocked,” I say loudly to be heard over Cruz’s delighted laughter. It seems water gun painting has gotten an upgrade since I was kid. Whereas I had two or three dollar-store squirt guns and old bed sheets, my boy is equipped with Super Soakers and stretched canvases.
“Did you answer the door?” Mama K asks.
I shrug. “Not my house.”
“Swear, it’s like I didn’t raise you with any manners,” Mama K mutters, shooting daggers my way.
“Let’s go see who’s on the porch.” Mama Mel says to her wife before turning to Cruz. “These can dry in the sun until we get home.”
We all head inside and huddle around the front door. Mama K swings it open to reveal the three bouquets I ordered yesterday.
“Aren’t these lovely.” Mama Mel picks up the spray of white lilies first. She checks the name on the card and passes them to my other mother.
Then she grabs the bunch of multi-colored tulips, addressed to her, inhaling their fresh scent before placing them on the console table.
The final bouquet is made up of white roses, lavender waxflowers and addressed to none other than my little temptress. Mama Mel’s eyes light up when she sees Ashley’s name on the card.
She passes the ribbon-tied bundle to Ashley with a know-it-all grin plastered across her delicate features.
“Are these…for me?” Ashley asks, accepting the flowers.
“They are.”
“You’ve really got a thing for flowers, huh?” She traps her lower lip between her teeth, and I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching out and freeing it.
Smirking, I tell her to read the card. I remember verbatim the words I scrawled onto the piece of cardstock clutched between her slender fingers.
Ashley,
I don’t know what this thing is between us, but I want to explore it. I want to see what we could be if given the chance. So, please, even though I’m undeserving, give me a chance.
-Colton
Nausea rolls through me as she reads the card. Once, twice, three times. “Are you”—her voice pitches higher—“punking me?”
Uncaring that we have an audience, I step up to her and take the flowers from her grip, laying them on the table beside the tulips. “Not punking you, Ash. I meant every word.”
Her eyes are glistening but her smile is bright as she nods.
“Is that a yes? Are you going to give me a chance? I want your words.”
“Yeah.” Another nod. “Yes.”
I skim my knuckles along her jawline, feeling like I just won the damn Powerball. “Good.”
“But, Colton—” She says my name with a hint of warning in her voice. “If you hurt me, I’ll make you regret it tenfold. And,” she leans in to whisper in my ear, “if we don’t work out, prepare for me to stick around, because I’m not abandoning Cruz.”
If I wasn’t already half in love with her, I sure as hell am now. Her fierce protectiveness of Cruz tells me all I need to know. She’s a fucking keeper.
“How far away is the aqua-air-rium?” Cruz asks as I back my car out of the driveway.
“About an hour.” He slumps down into his booster seat, frowning. He’s been grumpy since Mama Mel and Mama K said they wouldn’t be joining us. They had every intention to join us, but at the last minute decided to hang back, conveniently claiming ‘something came up.’
Cruz’s little pout is enough to have Ashley craning around in her seat to ask if he wants to play I-Spy.
He perks up. “Yes!”
How easily she makes my son smile is another box checked for her, because at the end of the day, he’s my number one priority. Thing is, I’m pretty sure he’s hers, too.
“Awesome. I’m gonna beat you this time, too!” she says, rubbing her palms together, super-villain style.
A raspy, boyish laugh bubbles out of him. “Nu-uh!”
I listen as the two go back and forth, debating all the while about reaching over and holding her hand. I know Cruz was present when asking her for a chance, but I’m still nervous. What will he think if we’re affectionate in front of him only for us not to work out? Would it confuse him—or worse, hurt him?
He cackles again when he outsmarts her with his spy, and I decide to go for it. I dart my hand out and grab ahold of hers, interlacing our fingers.
