Changing Fate (Endgame #5)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “I’m missing something.” He tilts his head.

  “I did, too, until an hour ago. His middle name.” I point to ‘Cason’ and wait for him to put two and two together.

  His eyes go soft, his hand clenches and it’s apparent he understands. “Why didn’t they tell us?”

  I shrug. “I can’t believe none of us caught it. We’re horrible.” Cason is a blend of Mason, Caden, and Deacon. Brody has the honor of being godfather and biological uncle so this was something Mason could give his son and be able to incorporate his friends into the most important part of his life.

  “I gotta call him.” I hug him.

  “Okay. I’ll give you some time.” I know my man— he’s battling emotions. It isn’t reserved to us girls— he’s missing home, too. One year almost down— three to go.

  “It was her fucking idea to do this spin class and she didn’t show.” I pant. Fuck me— who thought this shit was fun? I’ll give the inventor credit— it’s a kick ass work-out but my crotch is raw, my legs Jell-O, and my arms are noodles.

  Emberlee insisted we come to this gym for the spin class. Her words were— and I quote— Darby’s pre-school teacher told me it was the best in New York. Fuck that— it is the best form of torture.

  “She had a doctor’s appointment.” Saylor wheezes. Caden couldn’t come with me because of summer classes and Deacon is taking vacation next month to take the kids to Disney World, a belated fifth birthday for Julie and third birthday for Kinsley, so he’s at home being an adult.

  “I don’t care if she had a meeting with the Pope.” Breck snarls.

  I keep my mouth shut— if that man hasn’t called me yet, Lee Lee doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting a face to face with him. Speak of the devil, and in this moment, as she strides in, her body isn’t dripping in sweat, her lungs aren’t seizing, her makeup isn’t dripping into her mouth— she is the spawn of all spawns. “Hey.” She calls with cheer in her voice and a pep in her step.

  I answer with my middle finger as I’m still sprawled on the gym floor. Lifting my arm so she can see my finger is quite the feat. “Sorry I missed it. Was it fun?”

  “Fun?” Saylor gushes. “After this class, fun is pole burn scarring the inside of my thighs. Fun is potty training Kinsley. Fun is getting another cavity filled in Julie’s mouth thanks to Mason’s fucking lollipop obsession and Deacon’s Starbucks infatuation. Fun would be getting fucked up the ass with no prep.” She snaps. “This class wasn’t fun. And yes, I’ve done anal. You bitches aren’t special.”

  We’re silent for three . . . two . . . one . . . “Want to go get a smoothie? It’s hot outside.” Lee Lee asks.

  If I could move— and I can’t— I’d channel my inner Karate Kid and crane the shit outta her. “Fuck all of you. I had a bigheaded kid fifteen weeks ago. He’s Mason’s clone, so how much sleep you think I’m getting? He has a penchant for my tits at all hours just like his father.”

  “Mason’s a boob man? Hmmm. I would’ve thought he was an ass guy. Learn something new every day.” Saylor manages with a straight face.

  “Help me up.” I plead. Emberlee comes and stands over me.

  “I’m pregnant.” I don’t know what higher power helps me but I’m able to spring up— thanks Ralph Macchio— and grab her.

  The four of us look like idiots, dancing in the middle of a gym, three of us wiping sweat all over Emberlee to her shrieking. “Twins.” My ass hits the mat again. “The fertility drugs worked.”

  “You have to move back.” Saylor cries. Emberlee has been taking fertility drugs for two months— she’s one of the lucky ones— and according to her grin— she knows it.

  “Working on it. It’ll be another year or so.” She’s so giddy.

  “You have to marry my brother now— you promised before three kids. You’re carrying two. One plus two is three. Yes!” Breck rambles.

  Looks like we have another wedding to plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I beg off lunch with the girls and rush home. Brody took the day to go to my doctor’s appointment and when we got the news together, we processed, let it sink in and I left to meet the girls.

  “Brody?” I call. The house is quiet and I don’t hear Darby. I’m sure they’re napping so I tiptoe through the foyer, excited I get to creep in and stare for a few minutes. It’s a moment— as Saylor says. I round the corner and scream.

  “Shit!” His deep chuckle sends a ping to my core. “W-wh-what is this?” There’s candles placed atop every flat surface, rose petals dot the floor and are dotting the counter in between the votives. He’s down, propped on one knee and grips my hand.

  “You’ve had this ring for four years. You made me a promise and you’ve made me the happiest man alive. Marry me, Embe. Please.” His voice is husky and I can’t stand him pleading for something I’ve wanted for a while. I was too chicken shit to speak up.

  “Yes.” He stands and sweeps me into his arms when I utter that promise.

  “Yes?” I know I’ve stunned him.

  “I’ve wanted this for a few years.” I scrunch my nose and he jostles me so our faces are separated by mere inches.

  “Woman.” His tone gruff, but his eyes are smiling. “I would have married you any day had you given me the green light.”

  “I’m giving you the go ahead today.” His lips crush mine and he carries me to the couch. I feel his hand reach and cover my stomach. “Two.” I whisper into his mouth.

  “Two.” His voice is small in comparison to his size. “Do you wanna move back to Kansas?” I know what this is costing him.

  “We’ll discuss it after your contract is up. I’m good here for a bit.” And if that’s a lie, I’ll make it the truth.

  “I love you, Embe.” His words hold a promise but it’s one he’s delivered time and time again.

  “Holy shit!” I throw the calendar across the room.

  “Howy Shiz.” Darby mimics. I have a fucking parrot for a daughter. She can’t repeat the nice stuff. I tell her she’s pretty and she can’t return the compliment. I tell her I love her and occasionally I’ll get a kiss or a thank you. It’s more often her back as she’s running to her dad. I can tell her how to use manners and get a blank spare. Let me say a cuss word and she’s all over that like a whore’s lips around a random cock if you offer her thirty bucks.

  “Darby, that’s a naughty word. Don’t repeat.” I pick up the magazine and bite my lip so I don’t scream.

  She stares at me but her trance is broken when Brody walks in. “Howy shiz, Daddy.” This is why I can’t have nice things.

  “I see Mommy has been teaching you vocabulary today.” He picks her up and swings her in the air. I roll my eyes, give him the finger, and fling myself back to the couch. “Breck is here to pick her up for the park. I’m gonna run her to the car.”

  “Okay.” I pout and want to slap myself with the hormones.

  He comes in a few minutes later and sits down next to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been talking to Avery all morning trying to coordinate schedules. Caden only has a week off between summer and fall semester. Your schedule is crazy for August. If I wanna make this work, we have to get married on a fucking Monday.” I sigh. “And I want coffee.”

  His chuckle irritates me and I give him my best glower. “So, we get married on a Monday.” He shrugs. “The most important thing is our family. In three years we won’t care what day of the week our wedding was held. In fifty years we’ll be lucky to remember our anniversary.” He smirks because he knows he’s right.

  “Fine.” I grumble. “That still doesn’t fix my coffee issue.”

  “Babe, nothing will fix your coffee issue. Have you had any today?” I shake my head no.

  “And I better have the best damn wedding of the year. Avery and Saylor are already groaning with the email I sent.” He’s a smart man and doesn’t say a word, instead stands and goes to the kitchen.

  He pauses before he reaches the coffee maker
and I do my best to suppress the growl for his detour. I need that java. “I love you, Embe.” He turns and the look he shoots me makes winged creatures take root in my entire body.

  I burst into tears. “I love you.” He’s at my side in two seconds, holding me, reassuring me.

  Loving me.

  As only he can do.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holding her in my arms is my dream. Since the first day she bumped into me in that hall. Her sass. Her beauty. Her hard exterior with a soft inside. It all drew me to her. And when we reconnected it was a war I intended to win. Sure, I let her have some battle victories, but my ultimate endgame was her. Me. Family. And I won.

  “Calm down, baby.” I remember how hormonal she was with Darby, but this time there are two inside her and I pray every morning, afternoon, and night for patience. If I’m truthful, I spend more time praying for guidance than I do breathing. Add in planning a wedding and it looks like Erratic Emberlee is here to stay.

  “I’m a mess.” Her cries don’t quiet.

  “A beautiful mess.” I kiss her temple and feel her body relax. Her hands roam my back, skirting to the front and caressing my chest. “Embe,” I warn. “Don’t start something.”

  “Do you have to go into work today?” Her eyes hood.

  “Three hours.” Her sinister grin appears and crowds my lips. “Plenty of time.”

  “You think so?” I challenge.

  “If you quit talking.” Less talking. More action. Got it. I disengage our mouths so I can pull her shirt over her head and I groan in relief to see her bare underneath. My head dips and I take a nipple in my mouth, rolling it between my lips, careful with the pressure I apply. “You got the message.” She utters as she throws her head back.

  I manipulate her tits until she’s digging her nails into my forearm. Standing I whip my shirt off, drop my pants and boxers, lean down, whip off her sleep shorts and love she’s bare there, too. She trails her tongue over her lips while staring at my cock that’s twitching against my stomach. “You want this?” I stroke from tip to base, collecting the bit of precum that’s leaked from the top.

  Her head bobs and I step closer. Holding her cheeks in one hand I grab my dick and trace her lips, around and around. “Open up.” She does. Thrusting inside her wet mouth is heaven, hitting the back of her throat is bliss, having her swallow the tip of my dick— unfuckingbelievable.

  Her ministrations come close to bringing me to my knees but I’ll drop there when I’m ready to bury my face in her pussy. I grip the back of her head and lace my fingers in her long brown strands. I control the depth she takes me, how fast her mouth glides against my cock. She fights me but she loves me in control. To prove my point, I pull her off me and drop my hand to her pussy. Soaking fucking wet. Positioning her ass on the edge of the couch, I shove her legs up and wide, drop to my knees and eat my woman. “There.” She directs me by my hair and I refrain from laughing. I don’t need a lesson in bringing her to the brink— time and time again. But because she doubted me, I’m gonna make her pay.

  Circling my tongue with feather light pressure around her clit, I hold her hips down so she can’t gain friction. Her moan fills the room, and I continue. Dragging my tongue to her entrance I don’t allow myself to push in, instead turning my head to the right and left, brushing her folds and inside thighs. I move my tongue back to her opening and press the tip inside and retreat, heading back to her clit. I torture her like this several times until I take full control of her body. Spearing my tongue, I push inside and place my thumb over her bundle of nerves. I let her ride my face until she’s coming against my tongue.

  Sliding up her body I line my cock up and push in. Her pussy is greedy, sucking me deep and squeezing me tight. “Shit, Embe.” I purr. I drag my cock to the tip and shove in deeper. Once she’s stretched around me I pound into her and watch her eyes close. “Eyes.” Her green orbs focus on me and don’t break contact the entire time I fuck her into oblivion.

  I carry her into the room, send a text to Breck asking her to keep Darby so Emberlee can rest and take a quick shower so I can head to the field. I rush through my routine so I can run to the bakery and get some sweets for my fiancé. Soon to be wife.

  I’m whistling as I turn into the parking lot and my phone goes off.

  Embe: Oral. Donuts. Coffee. Damn you’re a keeper.

  I read her message and chuckle.

  Me: You had my cock, too.

  Embe: I think I need a refresher. It must have slipped my mind.

  This girl. Has my fucking heart. I tuck my phone in my pocket, thinking these pregnancy hormones are the ones I can get behind. In the literal sense. If she’d only stay horny and not combative, I’d keep her pregnant every year.

  Embe: FUCKING DECAF. I HATE YOU.

  Yeah— we all have dreams. The one where I thought she’d be Easy Emberlee was just crushed with that text. Yet, I fell in love with her anyway.

  My Embe. A complex, irrational, loving, bristly woman. Mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Being back home for the first time in nine months feels good. I have Avery with me in Tennessee, though our time is limited with my school schedule and her in the gallery non-stop. I call upon her words, her voice husky as I’m thrusting inside her. She reminds me this is merely a pit stop in our lives— a goal to secure our future.

  Breck is sitting in the chair watching Avery hold Nolan and I can admit, I’m stunned into daydreams watching her cradle a baby. I’ve seen it many times, our friends procreate like wildflowers, but as time creeps by and I know this will be in our future, I seem to study her longer, different thoughts rush through my head and my heart swells with love and pride.

  “I swear, if Lee Lee sends me another fucking text adding another fucking thing to my checklist, I’m gonna dye her dress black.” Avery huffs.

  Brecklynn giggles. “She’s over the top. You’d think she was planning a royal wedding and not her own.”

  “We all know Emberlee has a bit of diva in her— she thinks she’s royalty.” Avery smiles, there isn’t an ounce of malice in her words.

  “Is Saylor coming?” Brecklynn turns and sees me. “Hey there.”

  I step onto the deck and go to Avery after giving Breck a quick hug. “You look good like that.” I whisper for her to hear.

  “One day.” She reminds me and I’m happy to know she feels the same. One day— but not at this moment. Turning to Breck she lists the plans. “Saylor is heading over. I’m in the mood to fuck some plans up.” I shake my head and kiss her bye.

  “I’m heading to Deacon’s. See you later.” Deacon has a rare Friday off and we’re gonna hit the field, see if we can find our groove. Mason and Brody won’t get here until Monday morning and it sucks we can’t have a bachelor party. The girls find time, no matter the distance, to get into shit and visit— the guys haven’t been able to. I know it’s only a short blip in time and our bond and relationships don’t suffer but I miss kicking back, talking shit, and drinking beer.

  Coach Gill is running calisthenics with the team and I chuckle remembering the grueling hot sun beating against us while we did this same grueling practice.

  “Douglas. Monroe.” His voice carries from the dugout.

  We lift our hands in greeting and make the quick trek to greet him. “Coach.” I shake his hand. Deacon follows suit.

  “Good to see you. Wanna help these grunts? Show em’ how it’s done?” His grin is sinister.

  Deacon is enthusiastic. “Hell yes.”

  I’m hesitant. I’ve filled the forms out to play for a rec team but I haven’t committed to actually playing. I haven’t picked up a ball, a glove, a bat— since that night. I stood on this very field for Breck and Mason’s wedding and that’s the only time I’ve set foot onto any clay since that night. “You okay?” Coach pulls me from my mind.

  “I’m good.” I lie. The game didn’t do the damage, a poor sport did. And the intent wasn’t to harm me, but the action did jus
t that. “It’s surreal to be here.”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Deacon stares, knowing where my thoughts are.

  “Yes, he does.” Coach gruffs, hard as nails. Nothing has changed.

  I nod. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Listen up, boys. These two men here— best of the best. Could have gone to the majors but didn’t. Doesn’t change their love of the game. And sure as hell doesn’t diminish their skill. We’re gonna have some fun. Take your positions.” Coach hollers to the team and I look at each one. Some I’ve played with, they were under classmen. Some are fresh meat. I’m excited to see the talent.

  The kid taking catcher’s position is new. “We didn’t need one for four years. Had no options. He comes recommended by his high school coach but we’ll see if he can handle the heat. Pitcher’s good. He isn’t Adler good but replacement graduated. He’s a sophomore so I’ve got some time to get him up to par.”

  Deacon and I step back and watch a few scrimmage plays. They aren’t bad but they aren’t functioning as a team. Each is trying to impress their audience and signals are getting crossed. It’s something I haven’t faced because each time I played I had Mason and Deacon. The last year it was just Deacon but our bond carried through to the rest of the team.

  “Fucking showboat.” Deacon gripes staring at the shortstop.

  “Yeah. Go teach him something.” Coach claps and gets their attention. Pointing to the guy that’s raised Deacon’s hackles he points to the bench. “Take a seat.”

  If there’s one thing coach doesn’t deal with— ego. Even Mason checked his shit at the field. “You ready?” DD smiles and rubs his hands together.