by Piper Rayne
“If we’re really going to put this behind us, we need to add your leaf on there too, Lennon.”
My heart swells with joy and I think it might be in danger of bursting through my chest.
“So, can we put this all behind us?”
I gaze into his eyes and know that with all the love and affection I see there, I’ll never feel like I’m not enough again. I nod slowly and then go about the business of making myself a permanent mark in the lives of the two boys I love most.
Epilogue
It’s been two months and Jasper’s tattoo has healed nicely. Brady went back to talking to him—once I moved in.
Yep, I’m out of my hellhole of an apartment and living in Jasper’s condo. At first it was scary because what if we don’t make it? I mean do the research, many couples don’t. But I like to think there’s something special between us. And Brady comes first, before us, that’s the agreement we made.
Speaking of, Brady’s hand slides into mine as we walk down the sidewalk, all three of us exhausted from another day spent at the zoo.
He looks up to me, eyeing the pin on my shirt, and then falls back to my side. I made a mistake giving Jasper the pin back and I’ll never hurt Brady like that again. Jasper had returned the pin to him and explained why I felt the need to return it at the time. The first night after we reconciled, I tucked Brady in before Jasper came to read him a story and I told him how much it means to me that he gave me the pin and that I was sorry I hadn’t kept it.
Like most six-year-olds, he was able to forgive easily with no hurt feelings, but he checks up every once in awhile, wanting to know where it is.
“Coffee,” I whine as we approach a Starbucks.
“There’s nothing there for me,” Brady says.
“How about a cookie?” I bribe and he smiles.
“Cookie? On top of the popcorn, pretzel, and nachos at the zoo?” Jasper’s back to his stick-in-the-mud status, but he’s my stick in the mud. “You’re cleaning up the puke,” he says as I open the door to my nirvana, letting the aroma of coffee beans infiltrate my veins.
“I’ve done it once. I think I can handle it again,” I say with confidence I really feel.
“It truly is a sick obsession you have with this place,” Jasper says, passing by me. “Sit down and I’ll get the coffees.”
Brady and I don’t object, finding a table by the window. We talk about the elephants, the lions and how exactly the momma kangaroo gets that baby that’s in her pouch.
“Um, I’m not sure,” I lie because surely I am not the one who should be having this conversation with him.
“One day it just shows up?” Brady asks and I check on Jasper who’s paying the cashier.
“Well, the mommy and daddy…” I start, realizing that’s a bad path to go down. I look up to the ceiling.
“So you and Daddy will have a baby who shows up one day?”
“Okay…” Shit. Where’s the Parenting for Dummies book now?
“People say you’re half your mom and half your dad. What does that mean?” he continues on.
I pat his hand, about to rip the cookie from Jasper’s hands as he chitchats with the barista, pointing to things in the glass case.
Seriously?
“Lennon, are you my mommy?” he asks and my eyes shoot to him.
In the months that I’ve been with his father, he’s alluded to it, but never asked.
“Because Sara at school asked if I had two dads when I told her I didn’t have a mommy.” He smiles proudly. “I told her I had a daddy and a Lennon.”
I smile back at him, wetness filling my eyes. “I will always be your Lennon.”
“But not my mommy?” His lips turn down slightly but he’s not in full-on pout mode.
I glance over and Jasper’s waiting for the coffee. “Jasper!” I call out and he smiles, holding his finger up. Understanding that he’s useless in this moment, I look at Brady for a minute. “Technically, according to the law, I’m not your mom. I can’t be your mom until your daddy and I get married. Well, if we get married.” Treat the kid like an adult, I tell myself. None of this ‘hoo-haa’ and ‘dinky’ shit. Call it what it is, a vagina and a penis.
“So once you get married, then you’re my mommy,” he clarifies and I give it to the kid, he’s inquisitive.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to marry my dad?” he asks and of course, now Jasper’s finally coming over with the cookie.
He’s almost to us and I smile, eager for Brady to have his cookie so the spotlight can be removed from over my head.
“Mr. Banks,” the barista calls out and he stops.
No! I need the cookie.
He turns back around, grabs his coffee and moves to the station and then waves me over because his hands are overfilled with the entire collection of bakery treats.
It’s an exit and I’ll take it. “I’ll be right back. You stay here,” I say to Brady, thankful for at least some time to think of answers.
Jasper’s getting his coffee ready, stirring the sugar as he focuses on Brady behind me.
“You complain about a cookie and then buy all this,” I comment, scooping all the baked goods in my hands.
“Leave those, just grab your coffee when she calls your name.”
“Speaking of which, I’m very disappointed by your choice of name. Tell me we haven’t lost the spark already,” I joke, my hip resting on the coffee station.
“Cut me some slack, it’s been a long day. I promise to knock your socks off the next time.” He bends down, kissing my lips.
“You’re off the hook for today only. But you still have to woo me,” I call out as he passes me by and I wait for my coffee.
Not only does he not do the name thing but he gets his coffee first. If this is what relationships are about, then I understand why people complain about them.
A lifetime later—okay, not a lifetime, but it feels like it—the barista comes over to the counter and I step forward, knowing it’s for me.
“Mrs. Banks,” she calls out and places it on the counter.
Oh, my God, is Natalie here? We’re getting along better these days, but she’s not the type of surprise I’d appreciate.
I scan the small cafe, but no one is getting up and I don’t see Natalie anywhere. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the table where Brady and Jasper were is empty. Just the pile of pastry items and one lone coffee sit there. Brady must have had to go to the bathroom.
So I wait and watch the coffee cup sit there.
“Are you going to get your coffee?” Jasper says from behind me, his voice soft and loving.
I turn to find him and Brady on bended knee.
“What?” I ask, looking down at my cut-off shorts and tank top that says ‘Jesus Loves This Hot Mess.’ Not exactly ready to be proposed to.
“Lennon, we love you.”
“Yes,” Brady adds.
“We want you to spend the rest of your life with us.”
“Yes,” Brady says.
“We promise to put the toilet seat down and not drink out of the cartons.”
“Yes,” Brady says, slowly leaning to the side, growing tired of being on his knee.
“We promise to worship you. To love you. To protect you.”
“Yes.” Brady nods and loses his balance.
“Will you marry us?” Jasper asks and the few people in the cafe all “aww.”
“I have to take both of you?” I joke, staring between them.
“Afraid so. Package deal.” Jasper smiles.
“What if I only want the little one?”
Jasper looks down to a smiling Brady and shrugs.
“Then I’ll be heartbroken.” He covers his heart with his hand.
“What do you say? Do we let him live with us?” I say to Brady. “Can I be your mommy and his wife?” I turn the tables and Brady runs over to me, and I squat to catch him. His arms are so tight around my neck I’m almost terrified of finding my next breath.
“You’re my mommy first,” Brady says softly.
Jasper comes over and wraps his arms around us. “I’ll be second place this time.” He kisses my temple and then finds my lips, giving me a nice, short kiss that still makes me tingle from my head to my toes.
We both stand after a minute and Jasper picks up the coffee. “So, I have no ring. I wasn’t planning on this until I walked up to that barista. I saw you and Brady and somehow I knew. You’re our missing piece.” He holds it out to me. “So do you accept your coffee, Mrs. Banks?”
“Every morning for the rest of my life.”
Brady finally unwraps himself from me and I let him down. He runs over to the table of goodies.
“You pick the date and in the meantime, I’ll make sure you have one hell of a rock on that left finger,” Jasper says, clearly surprised himself about the impromptu proposal. I’d have it no other way.
“Why not now?” I ask. “I mean, why wait? All I need is you and Brady there. We can do a reception or something for friends and family some other time.”
Jasper looks down at me, unsure if I’m serious.
“I’m serious, Jasper. Let’s just elope. The three of us can go somewhere.”
His full of life smile spreads across his lips.
“Let’s go, Mrs. Banks.” He holds his hand out for me.
I take it and he grips mine in his much larger one and I know I’m never letting go ever again. He’s stuck with me for all eternity.
“Lead the way, Mr. Banks.”
The End
It’s so hard to say goodbye … but, wait, you don’t have to!
In our next series, The Single Dad’s Club, cameos of the couples from the Modern Love Series are PROMISED!
Ready to meet the men of Climax Cove?
Click —> Real Deal (Single Dads Club #1)
Swipe forward for a sneak peek at Chapter One
MODERN LOVE WORLD
Did you miss Whitney and Cole’s story in The Bartender?
Don’t fret, click here—> Charmed by the Bartender.
* * *
What about Tahlia and Lucas from The Boxer? They’re ready when you are, click here —> Hooked by the Boxer.
Chapter One in REAL DEAL
“Daddy!” Lily screams from the top of the stairs. “I can’t find my bracelet!”
I lay the knife down next to the butter, walk into the foyer and look up to the top of the stairs where my five-year-old daughter stands, practically in tears.
“It’s on the bathroom counter, and if you’d brushed your teeth already, you would have seen it.” I eye her with a skeptical smirk.
The little devil is going to have twenty cavities her next trip to the dentist.
Her face lights up with a ‘you’re the best daddy ever smile’ and my heart melts, as it always does. And she knows it. She runs away from the banister and into the bathroom.
“Brush your teeth, Lily!” I call out after her.
I shake my head to myself as I head back to the kitchen. She’s the only kid I know that insists on brushing her teeth before she eats. After years of arguing with her every morning, I decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting. If she wants to do it before breakfast, who am I to argue. But honestly, have you ever tasted fruit right after brushing your teeth? It’s fucking nasty.
As I finish buttering her toast and placing it next to her eggs and fruit, she runs into the room and hops up onto the breakfast stool.
“Eggs.” She sticks out her tongue.
“We’re out of waffles,” I say, moving from the fridge to the counter to pour her a glass of milk.
“Lily?” I question, inspecting her. “What is on your face?”
She looks up from sliding her fork around the eggs, the devil’s gleam in her eyes. “Mallory’s sister gave us some.”
There’s purple eyeshadow arched well over her eyebrows mixed with lines of hot pink. I mean, I’m not RuPaul, but I’m pretty sure lipstick isn’t supposed to be on your eyelids.
“You aren’t allowed to wear make-up.” I take a sip of my coffee and set the mug back down on the counter. Moving to the sink, I wet a paper towel and round the counter toward Lily.
“No Daddy, I’m pretty,” she whines swiveling her head to the side to dodge me.
“Lily, this is your first day of camp. How about we save this for Halloween?” I try again to clean her off, but she won’t stop wiggling. “Or wait until you’re at least twenty-one before you start wearing this crap,” I add under my breath.
“Halloween!” she screeches like a thirteen-year-old teenager.
“How about we’ll do dress-up this weekend?”
I glance at the clock. Five minutes before we need to leave if I’m going to be on time.
“Daddy, Mallory is wearing hers.”
The whine that always seems to work on me seals the deal. My little girl will attend her first day of camp looking like a clown. Wonderful.
Remember—pick your battles.
I release a breath and grab the brush off the counter. “Hair time and eat your eggs.” I use the brush to point down at her plate.
She positions herself on the chair, familiar with the drill.
“Braids, pigtails or ponytail?”
Please no braids. Please no braids.
“Braids.”
Of course. On an already stressful morning where we’re running behind, she picks the one hairstyle that’s the equivalent of asking me to crochet a blanket.
I split her long blonde hair into two and run the brush through each side. “Are you excited for camp?” I ask her, pleased to see that she’s at least eating her fruit.
“I’m kinda scared.”
I secure one side of her hair in a ponytail so I can concentrate on the braid for the other side. “Why are you nervous?” I peer over her shoulder to see her chomping on a piece of cantaloupe she’s stabbed with her fork.
Lily is one of those happy children who’s usually bouncing around in some joyful manner like in the Disney movies. That princess that lived up in a tower with long hair always reminds me of her. I forget her name. I’ve been forced to sit through so many princess movies that they all sort of run together in my mind.
“What if I don’t know anyone?” Her voice is small and scared and it tugs at the heartstrings I didn’t know I had until the first time I looked upon her angelic face when she was born.
“Don’t be. You make friends easily.” I stretch my fingers a few times after finishing one braid and squeeze her shoulder before moving to the other side.
“Mallory will be there.” Her voice doesn’t hold the excitement it once did.
“That’s good,” I say absently as I struggle to secure the second braid in place. “Sometimes I wish I didn’t give you my thick hair.” With my hands on her shoulders now I lean over and kiss her cheek.
She turns her head and smiles at me. I return her smile and round the counter to pour my coffee in a travel mug since the time to get the caffeine flowing through my veins has passed.
“Daddy?” Lily says from behind me.
I peek over my shoulder so she knows I’m listening even as I pack her bag and get my own shit together.
“I got my thick hair from you?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say absent-mindedly, glancing at my phone on the counter to see we’re now running three minutes late.
“What did I get from my mommy?” Her voice is low and unsure and despite my best efforts over the past few years I know she’s worried about my reaction to her question.
I’ve always tried to instill a certain trust between Lily and me. We’re all we have, and she needs to be secure with me, so, our conversations have always been open and honest, except for one topic—her mother.
My hands freeze on the zipper of her backpack. She’s quiet and my assumption is her eyes are on me. Waiting for an answer.
I turn around and lean against the counter. I force my lips into a smile to let her know this is a topic we can
discuss. Certain information will surely be off-limits, but if she wants to discuss her mom, I can toe the line.
“I would say you got her wild streak.” I lean forward and squeeze her waist.
She giggles and her blue eyes light up for a moment before she pushes my hand away. “Wild streak?” she asks.
I rack my brain for the kid-friendly definition to clarify.
“Tell you what…I’ll explain it in the car. We’ve gotta get going. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”
I let the make-up thing go, along with the fact she didn’t touch her eggs—anything to escape this conversation.
She quickly secures her bracelet to her wrist. A bracelet that is more like a security blanket than a fashion symbol. Eventually, we’re going to have to discuss her getting rid of it.
“Camp!” she yells, jumping from the stool and hoping over to me.
There’s my Rapunzel.
See? I knew the name would come to me.
* * *
Leaving my driveway, I turn my pickup truck down Greyfalls Hill and head into downtown Climax Cove. I use the word downtown lightly.
Once known for being a small fishing town, it’s grown into a heavily traveled destination during the summer. Our downtown shops and restaurants mixed with the harbor and marina is appealing to most city folk coming in from either Portland or San Francisco because they can make the trip here in less than a day. During the winter months, it’s mostly just the townies, but it’s a nice place for Lily to grow up and I like the feeling of safety and security a small town like this provides. Most of the people in Climax Cove know and love, Lily and I both.
“Hey, it’s Miss Betty,” Lily says excitedly from the back seat.
I glance to the side and see our town librarian walking along Main Street.
“Can I roll down the window?” Lily asks.
We’re stopped at a streetlight, so I hit the button and the glass retreats into the door with a mechanical whir.
“Hi, Miss Betty. I’m going to camp!” Lily yells.
Betty stops at the corner and looks over. When she sees it’s us, she steps a little closer and peeks into the truck.
