by Sarah Skye
I wet my lips and go up on tiptoe to speak against his mouth. “It might be a mess, but I can handle messes. What I don’t want to handle is how much it hurts, missing you. I fucking love you, too, Marco.”
His fingers thread in my hair and pull, hard, at the same moment his lips crash against mine. My whole soul vibrates with the love that’s flowing between us. Yes, my clit is throbbing, and I’d wrap my legs around him right here in this apple orchard, but that’s only part of it. This is so much deeper, so much more real than anything I’ve ever known before. And I’m finally ready to own that.
Marco tugs my hair again before his hands sweep over my shoulders and down my back. “God, this dress is so soft. I want to do filthy things to you in it, Morgan. Would you like that?”
“You know I would. You know what I need.” I claw at his neck, then think fuck it and jump up. Like I knew he would, Marco catches me easily and lets me wrap my legs around his back.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, I need you so goddamn much.”
I pause from sucking on his ear and lift my head to meet his gaze again. “You have me, Marco. Please, please don’t hurt me.”
He shakes his head. “I can only promise I’ll do everything I can not to hurt you. I’ll give you everything and admit when I fuck up. But I’m not perfect, King of Cups card or no. So be patient with me, okay? And know that one thing I love most about you is how you call out my bullshit.”
“I promise I will.” I kiss him, and my heart swells again. We’re talking about a relationship. We’re talking about our future.
In the middle of an orchard. In the middle of a wedding.
A wedding…
“Shit,” I blurt, then scramble to get back on my feet as the wagons come back into sight. “Oh, god, this is going to be weird.”
He straightens his cuffs and eyes the wagons. “Can’t argue with that.”
We watch the wagons unload while the guests at the bonfire cheer for them. Someone calls my name, and I see the champagne glasses being passed around.
“I have to go give a speech. You can stay here, if you want,” I say.
Marco laces his hand through mine. “We’ve already dealt with a lot of awkward moments together. Might as well top them all.”
The entire wedding party goes silent when we emerge from the shadows. Someone—Lily’s mom, maybe—hisses Marco’s name. I half expect one of her country club friends to pass out. But Harmony catches my gaze and gives me a reassuring smile. It’s exactly what I need. If my girls are with me, I’m going to be okay.
Even better, Lily turns to us and grins. Her eyes are bright, cheeks flushed from the hayride, and the smile she wears is beautiful and genuine. “I was wondering when you’d finally show up,” she says to Marco.
She walks to us and hands us each a champagne glass. “I’m glad you’re here, Marco,” she says loud enough for everyone to hear, then murmurs, “Don’t make me regret saying that.”
He chuckles. “Swear I won’t.”
Calder appears by her side and gives us a casual nod. “Always room for one more at a party. If Morgan’s happy you’re here, then you’re welcome, mate.”
I bite my lip as he winks at me. Throwing my arms around him in a hug might be too much, but his mischievous look says we understand each other.
“A toast!” Lucy shouts, and that’s that. The silence breaks, and all that’s left are a few odd glances our way while Lucy salutes her brother and new sister-in-law.
When she’s done and the applause dies down, I clear my throat.
“Lily and Calder. You two are absolutely perfect for each other. Lily, I remember you texting me in all-caps to shout about how hot your new form model was. But what I remember most was how you sounded when you talked about him, how clear it was that you’d fallen head-over-heels in love with this whiskey-drinking Scotsman. And that had nothing to do with his abs or how many romance novels covers he was on.”
I clear my throat and go on. “I’m not experienced with love. I’ve always felt on my own in this world, but I’m starting to realize that that’s only true if I make it so. That love really is all around, and if it’s real, it’s not going to vanish just because things are tricky or complicated. Well, you two have the real kind of love between you. And I know without a doubt that whatever tricks or complications life might try to bring you, you’ll face it all together. Because that’s what love is about. And I… well, I’m honored to be in it for the long haul with you both. You’re amazing friends, and I don’t know where I’d be without you.
“So, here’s to Lily and Calder. May your life have more joy than sorrow, more whiskey than vinegar, and more beautiful moments than you can count!”
Applause thunders all around me, along with “Bravo!” and “Slàinte!” while I laugh and cover my face in humble surprise.
Lily wipes tears from her eyes and kisses my cheek—and then grins at Marco and mouths “Take care of her.”
He squeezes my hand and glances down at me. “I will,” he shouts over the din.
And, when we get back to his place hours later, he absolutely does.
31
EPILOGUE
7 MONTHS LATER
MARCO
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Morgan whips her head at my barked words as she stands on a chair propped up against the corner of our new living room. The sudden movement makes the chair wobble, and she drops the cluster of balloons and grabs the wall to steady herself. My heart rockets to my throat.
Jesus Christ, this woman is going to give me a heart attack.
I dart over and scoop her up in my arms, then set her on the floor.
“Marco!” She squeals through a chuckle as she smacks my shoulder.
I tug a hand through my hair and frown down at her as I exhale. I’m about to tell her for the millionth time to sit the hell down and let me handle the decorations. But then she tiptoes up and plants a kiss on my mouth that melts my frown in an instant.
“Hey.” Her eyes sparkle up at me. “I’m sorry, okay? Promise I’ll be more careful.”
I let out a groan as she slides her hands up my chest, and I slink my arms around her waist.
“Just sit and let me do the decorating, okay?” I say against her mouth as we kiss.
She rolls her eyes, but a smile plays on her lips as she plops down on the edge of the nearby couch and crosses her arms. “You’re taking your new role entirely too seriously.”
I can’t help but chuckle at the good-natured petulance in her voice. But then I lean down and kiss her forehead while I cradle my hand against her beautifully rounded stomach.
“Sorry. Can’t help it. Dad-mode has kicked in, and there’s no going back.”
If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be in a relationship with Morgan Paulsen, the best friend of my ex-girlfriend and ex-fiancee, and that we’d be expecting a baby together, I’d have laughed until I pissed myself. I couldn’t have thought of a more unlikely scenario. But life can throw some crazy shit at you sometimes. And sometimes that crazy shit ends up being the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.
That’s exactly what happened to me. Last year, when I surprised Morgan at Lily and Calder’s wedding reception in an attempt to reconcile and give us—give a relationship between us—a proper shot, I thought that was the craziest thing we’d ever do. Holy shit was I wrong.
That night kicked off a blissful and sex-fueled few months for us. I’ve never been happier than waking up every day next to Morgan.
But then, three months ago, I came home from a run, and there she was standing in the doorway of my bathroom, those ocean-blue eyes wider than I’ve ever seen. It took a second before I saw the pregnancy test in her hand.
I almost had a stroke when she said, “Marco. I’m pregnant.” I’m pretty sure my heart and lungs ceased functioning for a solid ten seconds. All I could do was stand there with my jaw on the floor. But then my brain caught up, the shock faded
, and my heart came to life in a whole new way. And then I ran over to her, scooped her up in my arms, and told her just how much I loved her and how happy I was that we were going to have a baby together.
Yeah, it’s soon. Yeah, we didn’t plan it. But I don’t care. Because this is our journey. This is us doing things our way. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the wild and unpredictable ride I’ve been on these past couple of years, it’s that sometimes the best things in life are unexpected.
Just like how Morgan stumbled back into my life one random night.
Just like how we fell for each other.
Just like this baby.
Emotion chokes me at the base of my throat as I relish the feel of Morgan’s stomach against my palm. Even through the fabric of her dress, I can feel the warmth. Of her. Of our baby.
I clear my throat and smile as she beams up at me.
“Gotta admit, you in protective daddy mode is almost as hot as it is annoying.”
She winks at me, then tugs me down to her mouth and leads me in a filthy kiss. Before long, I’ve got her splayed out on the couch, my face is between her legs, and she’s whimpering.
Pregnancy hormones have slingshotted Morgan’s sex drive into the stratosphere, and it’s the fucking greatest.
She moans. “Oh… oh… oh my—”
The doorbell blares. I jerk my head away from her as she sits up.
“Fuck,” she groan-laughs. Her head falls back as she props up on her elbows.
“Later.” I wink at her. I stand, help her up, straighten my shirt, and open the door to a smiling Gram.
“Hey, Nina. Come on in.”
She pulls me into a hug and then immediately scurries over to Morgan to give her a squeeze.
“Oh Sugar Pea, just look at your adorable little tummy.”
Morgan rolls her eyes good-naturedly. She rests a hand on her stomach. “I’m the exact opposite of little.”
“Honey, you’re the most beautiful, glowing mama-to-be I’ve ever seen.”
Nina’s eyes get teary as Morgan’s expression melts. “Thanks, Gram.”
“I’d have to agree with Gram,” I say as I finish hanging the last of the pink and blue balloon clusters along the wall. “You’re the most beautiful woman in every room, gorgeous. You always will be.”
When I look over to Morgan, she gives me a look that waffles somewhere between heartened and horny.
“I just can’t wait to find out what you’re having!” Gram says as she sets a stack of plates and silverware on the dining table at the far end of the living room.
I take in how quickly and easily Nina moves. Hard to believe that just last year she was going through a health crisis. But now she’s fully recovered and her diabetes is under control. She probably could have continued living on her own just fine, but when we told her we were pregnant, she insisted on putting her old house up for rent and moving to the city to be closer to us so she could help when the baby comes. Morgan was ecstatic. Nina now lives in the small one-bedroom guest house on the edge of our property, which we bought as soon as we found out we were having a baby.
Nina and Morgan go into the kitchen to grab the food we ordered and set it out on the table.
“Goodness, I’m dying to cuddle that baby,” Grams says as she fusses over a stack of napkins.
Morgan and I exchange a look before I head out to the garage to grab a few folding chairs. A few days ago, we found out the sex of the baby. We were so excited that we decided to have a gender reveal party. Even just thinking about it now sends a wave of feelings crashing through me. Like I could cry and laugh at any given moment, I’m so happy. I can’t wait to hold that little one in my arms, to cuddle and kiss them, to watch them grow.
To finally see the tiny, perfect person that came from the two of us.
“Any guesses on what the gender is?” Morgan asks Gram as I walk back inside.
Gram shakes her head. “No guesses. I’m over the moon either way.”
She glances at the giant yellow balloon hanging in the middle of the living room. It’s filled with colored confetti, and once everyone arrives, we’ll pop it to reveal the baby’s gender.
“You know, in my day we found out in the delivery room whether it was a boy or girl,” Gram says. “But it’s a whole shindig now. I like it.” She chuckles.
Just then she pauses, a wistful smile on her face. Her gaze bounces between the two of us. “I just can’t believe how far you two have come. What with the new house, your new jobs, and a little one on the way.”
Morgan walks over to me, and I cuddle her to my chest.
“It’s been a wild ride for sure,” I say. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Gram asks how work is going, and I fill her in on how I’ve been slammed meeting with new clients this past week but that I’m loving it. Helping Gram and her friends made me realize that I wanted to turn this into a career, so I started a small nonprofit offering free legal services to people in need. It’s been the most fulfilling work I’ve ever done, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.
Gram’s eyes turn misty once more as she walks over to us. She reaches up and cups my cheek in her hand.
“You’re a real sweetheart, Marco Woodruff. I always knew it.”
Warmth bursts in my chest as I tell her thanks. The doorbell blares again, and Morgan walks over to answer it. In walk Lily and Calder, their arms loaded with gifts.
“You guys! We said no gifts,” Morgan mock-whines.
Lily laughs while I run over to take the gifts from her and Calder and tell them thanks.
“Too bad,” Lily says. “We want to spoil your baby. Deal with it.”
I’m chuckling to myself as I set the gifts next to the fireplace. When I turn around, Calder is standing a few feet from me, his expression on the pleasant side of neutral, and he’s holding a bottle of whiskey.
We’re definitely not friends. I don’t know if we ever will be. But we’re solid acquaintances. We’ve seen each other a bunch of times since his and Lily’s wedding, and each time it gets a little less weird.
He shoves the bottle in my hand. “From the new Sonce reserve line for the dad to be. It’s tradition to gift the new parents in my family a proper bottle of whiskey when they have their first wee bairn.”
It takes me a few seconds to understand what he’s said. “‘Wee bairn?’”
He chuckles. “Little baby.”
I can’t help but smile as I look down at the bottle. “Thanks, Calder. That means a lot.”
He smacks me on the back. “Congrats, mate. We’re happy for you.”
His tone is gruff and curt like it always is when he talks to me, but I can tell he means it.
Just then Harmony walks in with an armload of gifts, followed by my mom, then another few people follow. While everyone laughs and chats, I shuffle around the room, pointing people toward the food and grabbing drinks. I’ve got a bottle of champagne in one hand and sparkling grape juice in the other. I look over to my mom, who’s sitting with Nina on the couch.
She looks up at me and smiles. I have to stop for a second to soak in the joy in her expression. Ever since she started going to therapy, I’ve noticed a change in her. She smiles more than she ever did. She calls to check on me and Morgan every week or so. She even hugs me and tells me she loves me now when she sees me. And when we told her we were expecting a baby, she cried, she was so happy.
Things aren’t magically fixed between us. We don’t have some lovey-dovey mother-son relationship now. But it’s a million times better than it was. That’s enough for me.
When I walk over and refill hers and Nina’s glasses of champagne, it’s a struggle to keep my smile from growing suspiciously big. They’re both going to lose it when Morgan and I surprise them later.
I do a scan of the room to see if anyone else needs a drink top-off and spot Harmony standing by the food table, frowning down at her phone.
“Hey. Here you go.” I hand her a gla
ss of champagne, remembering just how much she enjoys guzzling bubbly beverages at functions like this.
For a second, all she does is stare at the glass in my hand before taking it, the look in her eyes dazed.
“Oh. Um, thanks.” She sets it on the table without taking a sip.
“You okay?”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Then opens and shuts it again. Then she flashes the most forced smile I’ve ever seen her make. “Yeah. All good.”
I frown at her. Next to Calder and Lily, Harmony is the one person in this room I have the most awkward history with. But we’ve managed to move past that. We’re not buddies, but we’re friendly. We can chat and joke with each other at gatherings.
And our history together is why I can tell that something is bothering her right now and that she’s trying to hide it.
“Well, that’s one for the record books. I’ve never seen you turn down champagne. You sure you’re good?”
My crack at a joke works. She lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just… not in the mood for champagne today.”
I wiggle the other bottle in my hand at her. “Sparkling grape juice instead?”
She lets out a breath, her tense expression easing the slightest bit. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
I grab an empty flute from the table and pour her a glass. And then I hear a high-pitched squeaky voice call my name.
“Uncle Marco!”
I spin around and see a familiar, adorable three-year-old running toward me. I set down the bottles and scoop Eva into my arms. When she plants a kiss on my cheek, my heart shatters. Christ. If I’m like this with Morgan’s half-brother’s kid, what the hell will I be like when my own kid hugs and kisses me?
A goddamn mess is what you’ll be. But it’ll be the greatest feeling in the world.
Eva’s dad Wes—Morgan’s half-brother—walks up to us and shakes his head while flashing an exasperated smile. “Sorry, man. She’s probably gonna talk your ear off about the manatees at the aquarium we visited yesterday.”
