by Hart, Emma
“I told you. I couldn’t leave.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is if I wanted it to be.”
“Kali—”
“I couldn’t leave because I didn’t want to,” I blurted out. I put the coffee mug on the table next to me and steeled myself. “I couldn’t leave if I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I added softly.
He took a deep breath. “Right. So, goodbye?”
I shook my head, dipping my gaze away briefly before swinging it back up to meet his. “No,” I said quietly. “That’s not what I meant. I—I thought about what you said. The other day, in the Coastal. And what I didn’t say and what I should have said—”
He closed the distance between us. His hands cupped my face, and he kissed me right as I hesitated. “I didn’t tell you enough,” he said as I curled my fingers in his shirt. “I didn’t tell you that I don’t just like you. I didn’t tell you that I’m falling in love with you, and I should have. I didn’t tell you—”
This time, the cut-off kiss was mine.
I shut him up.
“I didn’t tell you that I’m falling in love with you,” I echoed. “That I love your kids. That your family turned me from someone who never wanted them to someone who can’t imagine her life without them.”
He took a deep breath.
Pulled back.
Looked me in the eyes.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered. “I will never be good at what you do as a parent. I don’t know if it will ever be natural or right. But, I want to try. I want to try to be enough for them. For you.”
He touched his forehead to mine, smiling as he did it. “Baby, you already are. More than you know.”
I let my eyes flutter shut until he pulled back. “Is it okay? That I won’t be perfect?”
He stared at me for a moment, then used the fingertips that brushed my cheeks to sweep my hair behind my ears. “A few days ago, you looked after them when I didn’t even know what time it is. I don’t exactly have the market on perfect cornered.”
Well…there was that.
“And it doesn’t matter,” he continued quietly. “You’ll fuck up. I fuck up all the time. It’s part of this rollercoaster.”
“But, what if—”
He pressed his finger against my lips and shook his head. “Don’t ask it, Kali. Don’t you dare compare yourself.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes. “How can I not?”
“Listen to me.” His voice was so soft and soothing, and his eyes were so bright and open and raw in their emotion. “You’re different people. Katie will always be their mother, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be who you want to be to them. A part of me will always love her, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of me—all of me—can’t love you. Because, it can. And, I don’t want you to compare yourself. You—God, Kali. You breathe so much life into me,” he whispered, leaning his face down to mine. “Don’t. I want to see you singing into a paintbrush and chasing me around a table until I die laughing.”
I nodded, squeezing back the emotion. “Can I be scared of this?”
“Please do. I’m fucking terrified.”
For some reason, it made me laugh. Knowing he felt the same as me…I don’t know. It flipped a switch, and instead of crying, I burst out laughing, wrapping my arms around his waist.
His slid around me. His body shook with silent laughter, and in that moment, with my soul laid bare, wrapped around him, I knew.
I knew that we’d be okay.
Because, it was just like my mom had said.
I never wanted kids. Not until I met the two who needed me to want them.
And, I’d never wanted to want anyone as much as I did those crazy kids.
“Voom, voom!” Eli shouted, running through the room in a flash of color with his fist raised in the air.
“Ewi!” Ellie clobbered after him, her play shoes smacking against the kitchen as she readjusted the tiara on her head. “How cand I save you if you keep wunning away fromd me?”
I glanced up and met Brantley’s eyes.
They sparkled.
My heart skipped.
“Eli,” I called. “Stay still and let your sister rescue you!”
“Voom voom!” came from under the table.
“Pick your battles,” Brantley mouthed, releasing me so Eli could pop up between us. His masked face jerked between us before he grinned and took off, heading for the stairs.
“Okay,” I replied. “You fight this one, then.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His lips twitched.
“Ewiiiiiiiiiiii!” Ellie cried.
I cradled my coffee with a smirk.
Brantley sighed, strolling out of the kitchen. “Eli!”
Epilogue
One year later
I stared at the party spread in front of me, then down at my stomach.
I looked fat.
Not even pregnant-fat, just fat. The horrible, awkward moment where people would stare at you in the store as they figured it out.
Too pregnant to hide it, too small to confirm it, my mom kept saying.
Although, if she touched my bump one more time, I was going to karate chop her head off her fucking shoulders.
Hands slid over my waist and across the pudge. “Look at that,” Brantley murmured, drawing my body against his. “You finally passed the fat stage.”
I looked down again. I even tilted my head to the sides. “Does this mean your mom will stop questioning her existence if she can see the bump?”
“Yes. She’ll probably touch you a few times.”
“Nope.” I shoved his hands off me and pointed my finger at him. “I am not an interactive exhibition at a museum! I’m going to change!”
“Kali!” he laughed, following me up the stairs. “I’m fucking with you!”
“Nope! Between my mom and yours—nope!” I threw my hands in the air. “I am not doing this.” I tore my shirt off over my head and threw it on the bed. “It’s bad enough I can barely work because of safety regulations on a whole bunch of shit,” I continued. “Now, I can’t even host a birthday party without my fat being fondled? Nope. No way. I spent three hours in that kitchen today. Three. Hours! You know the last time I spent three hours in the kitchen?”
“You were trying to hide the fact you were binge-eating yogurt and cookies. Together.”
“You don’t get to judge me.” I jabbed my finger through the air. “I was hungry!”
He raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“I did not spend three hours in that fucking kitchen to have people poke my fat.”
“That fat is our daughter.”
“Still fat!” I poked my bare bump to prove my point, and got kicked harder than I ever had for my troubles. “Hey!” I said to my stomach. “What was that?”
“Did she kick you?”
“Kick me. Try to break out. Same difference.”
He came over and rested his hand on my stomach. “Do it again,” he said softly. “Poke her. Gently.”
I prodded the front of my stomach, and she kicked. Right where his fingertips were.
A smile spread across his face. “She’s telling you to get off her. Just poke her every time a mom touches you.”
I was torn between grinning that he’d felt her and glaring at his suggestion. I decided to pull my t-shirt over my head instead.
I’d bought it especially for this mutual meeting of our parents.
Brantley walked around me and read the shirt. “Hands off the bump,” he read.
“I wanted one that said, “Touch me and I’ll cut you like a fish,” but they didn’t have that on Zulily.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Just as well. Is everything ready? They should be back any minute.”
“Everything except my patience.”
“You’re testy today. Did Eli eat all the yoghurt again?”
I stared at him.
“Yet still so very, very bea
utiful,” he tried.
I still stared at him.
He laughed, drawing me close. “Come on, fatty. I know for a fact there are cookies in the kitchen. I hid them high up where the kids couldn’t get them.”
“And I just fell in love with you all over again.”
He kissed me, fighting a smile.
Downstairs, the door slammed open. “Mommmmmmmmmy!” Eli shouted.
I sighed. “There go my cookies.”
Brantley cupped my face. “Quick, distract them in the backyard, and I’ll get them for you.”
“I just swooned,” I said, kissing the corner of his mouth and heading for the stairs.
“Mommy! Where are you?” Ellie shrieked.
“Coming!” I shouted. “Let the fat lady walk!”
Brantley’s laughter chased me down the stairs.
Ellie frowned as I came into view. “You look fat today.”
“That’s not nice!” Eli shoved her. “Mommy looks pretty.”
“We’re not fighting.” I waved my hands and crouched down to them in the hall. “Where are Nanny and Granddad?”
“In the car,” Ellie said. “You really do look fat today. Can I touch it?”
“You,” I said, “are allowed.”
I stood so she could. She even got the hint of a kick for her troubles.
Her eyes widened. “What was that?”
“Your sister has your attitude,” I replied.
“That was weird.” Ellie backed off. “Daddy! Mommy’s stomach hit me!” She ran upstairs.
Eli touched my stomach, too, a look of mild curiosity on his face. That quickly changed to sadness. “Why won’t she kick me?”
“She likes you.” I grinned, resting my hand over his. “And you know the best part of having two sisters?”
“There will be nothing good about having two sisters,” he said somberly.
“No, there will be.” I gently took his hand from mine and bent down. “You’re guaranteed to be my favorite boy. Them? Who knows.”
He grinned, his bright eyes sparkling. “That sounds fun.”
I returned that smile of his and kissed his nose. “Happy birthday, buddy.”
He hugged my neck. “Thanks, Mommy. Can I go eat some of that food?”
“Don’t touch the cake,” I warned him.
One thing they hadn’t grown out of was their love for superheroes and princesses, and I’d managed to incorporate that into one cake.
All right.
I’d paid someone to, but it was basically the same thing.
Wasn’t it?
“Go down,” Brantley said from the staircase. “And get a drink, then.”
I laughed as Ellie scooted past me to the fridge.
He looked at me. “One day,” he said. “One day, we will be child free.”
“Eighteen years and five months,” I responded.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Shoulda thought of that.”
“Before or after you threw me over the sofa?” I wrapped my arms around his waist and looked up at him.
He settled his arms around my shoulders and pursed his lips. “I wasn’t thinking straight when I threw you over it, so…”
I buried my face in his chest and laughed. “Can I have my cookies now?”
He kissed the top of my head, laughing, too. “Sure thing, baby.”
He released me, still laughing.
A lot of things had changed since I’d met the Coopers.
The ring on my finger? That had changed. So had the fact my uterus was incubating a tiny human being. So had my name—I wasn’t Kawi anymore, I was Mommy.
The one thing that hadn’t?
Brantley still laughed.
Every day.
Sometimes with me. Sometimes at me. But, always because of me.
If I’d have known how everything would change when I walked through the door, I probably never would have. My family quadrupled overnight. Christmas got bigger and more expensive, and responsibility rained on me.
I’d come into this house to fix bedrooms.
What I’d done was fix a family.
And, I’d never been so damn happy.
Well…Maybe when I got my cookies.
The End
Enjoy MISS FIX-IT? Try Being Brooke or Mixed Up! Details at www.emmahart.org.
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About the Author
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty novels and has been translated into several different languages. She first put fingers to keys at the age of eighteen after her husband told her she read too much and should write her own.
Four years later, she's still figuring out what he meant when he said she 'read too much.'
She prides herself on writing smart smut that's filled with dry wit, snappy, sarcastic comebacks, but lots of heart... And sex. Sometimes, she kills people. (Disclaimer: In books. But if you bug her, she'll use your name for the victims.)
You can find her online at:
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Books by Emma Hart
The Vegas Nights series:
Sin
Lust
Stripped series:
Stripped Bare
Stripped Down
The Burke Brothers:
Dirty Secret
Dirty Past
Dirty Lies
Dirty Tricks
Dirty Little Rendezvous
The Holly Woods Files:
Twisted Bond
Tangled Bond
Tethered Bond
Tied Bond
Twirled Bond
Burning Bond
Twined Bond
By His Game series:
Blindsided
Sidelined
Intercepted
Call series:
Late Call
Final Call
His Call
Wild series:
Wild Attraction
Wild Temptation
Wild Addiction
Wild: The Complete Series
The Game series:
The Love Game
Playing for Keeps
The Right Moves
Worth the Risk
Memories series:
Never Forget
Always Remember
Standalones:
Blind Date
Being Brooke
Catching Carly
Casanova
Mixed Up
Miss Fix-It
Miss Mechanic (coming December 12)
The Upside to Being Single (coming January 30,, 2018)
