by Ryan, Lexi
I nod, grab my purse, and lead the way out to the back. I don’t look to make sure he’s following me as I head through the kitchen, but I don’t have to. I feel him there.
I hesitate outside Jake’s office. The last time we were in there . . .
“I thought maybe we could talk down on the beach,” Easton says. “It’s a nice night.”
“I’d like that.” I’m in heels, but we’re only a couple of blocks away, and I can kick them off as soon as we get to the sand.
We’re quiet as we walk toward Lakeshore Drive, neither in a hurry to start this conversation. I don’t know why he’s waiting to say what he has to say, but I know why I am. I want what he offered in the restaurant, but I’m afraid he’s not offering it for the right reasons. I want Easton to be my family, my partner, and my baby’s dad—even if he’ll never be its genetic father. But I also know how honorable Easton is. I know why he offered what he did.
“I won’t ask if you meant what you just said to my family,” I say, mustering my courage. “Because I know you did.” His face is guarded as he waits for me to say more. “Easton, I would never ask that of you. I couldn’t. It’s too much.”
The light turns at Lakeshore Drive, and he takes my hand as we cross. His touch is everything I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours telling myself it isn’t. It’s comfort and peace and home.
We cross to the beach, and he waits while I kick off my heels, never letting go of my hand. The air is cool and the sand is cold against the bare soles of my feet, but it’s welcome after the heat of the crowd inside the bar.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it,” I say, when we’ve walked for a couple of minutes and he still hasn’t replied. “I do. And it’s tempting but . . . I know how you feel.”
He swallows. “But do you really know? Because I don’t think you do, and that’s on me.”
“I know you want to protect me. I know you care about me.”
“Do you know that I want to be with you?”
“Of course I know, but things are complicated, and I get that.”
He shakes his head. “You’ve asked me before. You’ve asked me why I want to be with you, and you asked because you needed me to explain it. You asked because you didn’t believe it. Ask me now.”
“What?” I blow out a breath and search for the courage not to take anything from him he doesn’t truly want to give. “Easton, you and I have never gotten the timing right. No one will judge you for how you feel about this pregnancy.”
“Ask me why I want you.”
My heart squeezes as I remember having this conversation before. When I asked him in Paris, he needed me to find the words. And he stumbled when I asked him at the cabin on Sunday. It shouldn’t have mattered and it did. I shake my head. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Ask me.”
Does he know how fragile I am? Does he understand that I don’t have the energy or the emotional fortitude to write my own love poem? “I already know. Same reasons I want to be with you, right?”
“Ask. Me.” He squeezes my hands, then whispers, “Please.”
“Why do you want to be with me?”
He grins, like the question itself is a gift. “I want to be with you because I think about you all the time. Sometimes when you’re away from me, I convince myself I’ve made up how good it feels to have you close, because there’s no way one person could make me feel so damn good. But then I’m near you again—like right now—and I know I was right.”
My heart somersaults. I did need to hear this, whether I knew it or not.
“I want to be with you because I was born with this anxious kernel in me that whispers that I’m going to fall short. But when you’re there, when you’re looking at me with those big brown eyes, when you’re in my arms, when I hear you laugh—those whispers are silenced.
“I want to be with you because you knew who you were before anyone else, because some days I feel like I’m floating in space and still don’t know who I am, but being next to you is like always having steady earth beneath my feet.
“I want to be with you because the sight of the Eiffel Tower at dusk makes you weak in the knees, and because you see the world with a reverence that makes me realize how much I’ve missed by walking through life blindly. I want to be with you because when I think of happiness, I picture that day we took a boat ride down the Seine, and I watched the wind whip your hair in your face. I think of how beautiful your smile was that day—how you rivaled the sun—and how whole I felt just because you were by my side.”
I open my mouth, and he presses an index finger to my lips. “I’m not done.”
I laugh, but I think it might sound like a cry. Maybe it’s both. “Okay.”
“I want to be with you because you stepped back to let me be the kind of father I thought I needed to be, because you believed I could make the right choices for me and my daughter. I want to be with you because life is short, and I want to spend the rest of mine with you by my side. And because you’re my family. No matter what you decide or where you go or where you live, you’re a part of me the way Abi’s a part of me. You never stole my heart. You tucked a piece of yourself into it and made me better.”
“You know you can’t say stuff like this to pregnant women.” I sniffle and look around desperately. “I don’t even have a tissue.”
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. “I brought it for you. I figured I’d either need it for your tears or my bloody nose—which I’d probably deserve.” He shrugs. “Can I go on?”
I wipe my face and nod.
He exhales slowly, then starts again. “I want to watch you grow with this child and hold your hand while you learn what it means to be a mother. Because I know you’re going to be incredible, whether you do it alone or with someone by your side. But damn it, Shay, I don’t want you to do it alone, and I don’t want you to do it with anyone else. I want all of your babies to call me Dad. I want to be the person who wakes up with you during the sleepless nights and who reminds you that you’re kicking ass when the kid turns three and becomes a miniature demon. And hey—lucky for you, I’ve been there and can assure you that they do grow out of it.”
I laugh and feel hot tears spill down my cheeks.
“I want to take you to Paris and hold you during thunderstorms. I want to read your books and wake up to the smell of you on my sheets. And maybe it’s not fair of me to say so, but I want to do all that with you here. In Jackson Harbor, home. Because your family is awesome and I know your mom doesn’t want to miss watching her grandchild grow. But if what you need is in L.A., I’ll move back there. I’ll find a way to protect Abi from the press. I’ll figure it out. But when I say I love you, I need you to understand that I mean everything I just said, because I can’t live thinking you don’t really know how I feel and I’m shit with the romantic words.”
“I think you’re pretty good,” I say, then I hiccup. Because tears.
“I had a lot of notes and time to prepare. I was really nervous.”
“I liked it,” I whisper.
“Once I sat down and got going it was easy, but not at first. To me, it’s so obvious and it never occurred to me that you needed to hear it. I should’ve realized a long time ago that it isn’t so clear from where you stand. You’re the woman I love. The one I want. The future I want. If you want me.”
“Of course I want you.” I loop my arms behind his neck.
“Why?” he whispers, and there’s a smile in his eyes.
“Because of who you are. Because you’re the man I love and the one I want.”
He wraps his arms behind my back and pulls me close. “That’s more than enough.”
Shay
Brayden has never smiled as much as he has since he started dating Molly, and never smiled as big as he did standing on the sand behind our family cabin and saying his vows.
The service was beautiful. The pastor gave a speech about how a marriage ceremony isn’t about two people ma
king vows and committing to each other—as that’s already happened one way or another before the ceremony—but about the community accepting them as a couple. When the pastor spoke about love withstanding even the toughest trials, I found myself turning to Easton, only to find he was already watching me. Our eyes locked as the pastor spoke about the patience of the heart and reward of love, and Easton smiled. A private smile just for me that made my heart race and my knees go weak.
The reception is a small gathering—or as small as anything with my family can be—but everyone is seated at tables on the back patio that overlooks the lake. Molly hired her chef from the banquet center to do the cooking and brought some of her waitstaff out to serve us. There’s no microphone when I stand to give my speech, and I’m grateful for that. The worst thing about having an English degree is that when people ask you to give a speech or write a letter, they have really high expectations. At least if I screw this up, my voice won’t be amplified.
I smile at my new sister-in-law. She’s flushed and glowing, holding Brayden’s hand and her son Noah on her lap. She truly looks like this is the happiest day of her life.
I lift my glass. “Molly, I always wanted a sister. You probably don’t know this, but it wasn’t until the little hellion that is my brother Levi turned three that Mom announced she wasn’t going to have any more children. Before him, she’d intended to continue popping out babies until her body wouldn’t cooperate anymore. While I understood why Levi would make even my most-patient mother tap out of the child-raising business, I was crushed.”
Everyone laughs, and I wink at my mom, who shrugs like Can you blame me? Levi doesn’t look too offended. He knows the story.
“All of my brothers were relieved at the news because, let’s face it, things were getting kind of crowded. But not me. I’d been wishing for a sister, and it looked like my chance was gone. What I didn’t realize when I was a kid was that I’d be lucky enough to get five sisters. Molly, you’re perfect for my big brother. You make him smile and laugh and somehow even get him to stop working from time to time.” Everyone laughs softly, and I take a breath before continuing. “And you’re good for me too,” I say, the words breaking a little. I glance around the patio. Teagan’s wearing a shiny new engagement band, and I choke up a little at the reminder. Ava’s holding her one-year-old daughter, Lauren, while Jake keeps an arm around her shoulders. Ellie’s leaning on Levi, and Nic has her fingers intertwined with Ethan’s. By the time I look back to Molly, I think everyone understands why I feel so damn grateful. “You’re all better than sisters. I’m a pretty private person and I never wanted to burden anyone else with my troubles, but in you, Molly, and in Ava, Ellie, Nic, and Teagan, I don’t just have sisters. I have friends I can go to any time life is rough. Thank you for being brave enough to come back to Jackson Harbor. You’re a piece of this family as essential as one of my brothers.” I throw Levi a look and grunt. “Except maybe him. We’d be all right without him.”
“Heeey!” Levi says over everyone’s laughter. “This is family time, brat!”
I blow him a kiss and shake my head. “But seriously, Molly. Today you’re not just marrying Brayden. You’re stuck with all of us—even Levi—and we’re lucky enough to have duped you into thinking this is a good thing. I’m grateful for you and Noah, and so thrilled to call you both Jacksons. Here’s to you and Brayden.” I lift my glass of sparkling apple juice in the air. “May you always be lucky enough to know what a gift you have in each other.”
Everyone cheers, and I lower back into my seat.
Easton leans over, his mouth brushing my ear. “Do you know how wild I am about you?”
I smile. “I might have an idea.”
He nips my earlobe. “Good. Just checking.”
Easton
When dinner’s over and everyone’s dancing on the beach, I stand and offer Shay my hand. “Dance with me?” I nod to the beach where all of her brothers are entranced by their dance partners. “Brayden and Molly want everyone out there.”
She bites her bottom lip. I want to bite that lip myself, but biting leads to sucking, and sucking leads to roaming hands, and . . . Well, we’re expected to be out here for the next couple of hours, so I’m trying to pace myself. “I suppose. If I have to.”
I lead her down to the beach.
Shay loops her hands behind my neck, and I settle mine at her hips as we slowly sway to the music.
I scan the family surrounding us and shake my head. “Carter was right.”
She cocks her head. “About what?”
“I told him he shouldn’t propose today. That it’s a little . . . I don’t know, faux pas to propose at someone else’s wedding.”
“I don’t think Teagan cared when he did it. She just wants to marry him.”
“Oh, I think she cared.” I pull her closer and rub a hand up and down her back. “I think she likes celebrating with your family. He proposed here because she’s part of this now. Officially.”
She smiles. “She’s stuck with us.”
“Lucky girl,” I whisper.
“You’ve been stuck with us since you were a kid,” she says. “Don’t deny it.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I consider myself lucky too, but I wasn’t as lucky then as I am now.”
“For a guy who says he’s not good with words, you are such a charmer.” She closes her eyes and rests her head on my chest.
Warmth floods through me. That sense of rightness clicks into place. Everything is working out. Scarlett even found a place in Chicago yesterday. She said it’s a better fit for her than Jackson Harbor and that she didn’t want to get in the way of my fresh start with Shay.
“Can I dance?”
Shay and I still our feet at Abi’s request. With a small smile, Shay steps back and nods at me, getting out of the way so I can dance with my daughter. I grab her hand before she can get far.
“How about we all three dance together?”
Abi grins. “Okay!”
We all hold hands and sway to the music. And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
Easton
Twenty-nine weeks later
“Easton! Oh my God, Easton! Get in here!”
There’s a special speed I can run through my house. I call it the I-think-my-girlfriend’s-in-labor speed. That’s the speed I use as I fly down the hall and into the den. I grab the doorframe as I turn the corner and narrowly miss falling on my ass on the hardwood floor. I’m still bruised on my right side from when I thought she was in labor last weekend.
I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing about that—that she was doing it to show the girls how fast I’d come, or that, as she pointed out, this isn’t my first rodeo and I’m well aware that babies don’t just fall out seconds after contractions start.
Shay’s sitting at her desk, staring wide-eyed at the computer screen.
I try to play it cool and hide that I ran here. “What can I do for you, Dr. Jackson?”
She rolls her eyes at the name, but hell, she earned it. “I have a reply from that agent.”
“The one you queried last week?”
“No, the one whose contact info you gave me. Remember, I sent her my manuscript last month.”
I was starting to think my buddy had given me a false lead when she wasn’t hearing anything back. “What’d she say?”
“She loves it.” She presses both hands against her mouth and shakes her head. “Actually, what she says is she loves, loves, loves it. Three loves, Easton.”
“I told you it was good.”
“And baby, I appreciate that, but how much YA romance do you really read?”
“I don’t have to read the genre to know a good book when I read one.”
She makes a face. “Am I going to be this emotional forever?” Then . . . three, two, one, tears.
I guide her out of her chair and pull her into my arms. Admittedly, hugs aren’t the same these days, with this big watermelon she’s carrying around on the front of her,
but I’m not complaining. Shay is beautiful pregnant. It never did anything for me with Scarlett, but the sight of Shay’s rounded belly makes me want to pull out a camera and catalogue every inch and curve of her. I did that one night, but inevitably ended up pulling out other things before I finished.
“I’m so proud of you,” I murmur into her hair. “I knew you could do it.”
“It doesn’t mean anything yet. I told her I’ll sign with her, but now she has to find an editor who wants to buy it.”
“One step at a time.” I run my hands down her back then back up her sides. Slowly, I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her. She squeaks against me, and I pull back. “Are you okay?”
“Easton, I think I need to go to the hospital.” She grimaces.
“What? Are you in pain?” I look around on the floor. “Did your water break? Does something feel wrong?”
“I’ve been having contractions all morning. I just didn’t want to tell you, because you’ve been a little high-strung about this, but they’re about three minutes apart now, and—”
I’m already running to the nursery to get the hospital bag. I’ve nearly perfected my I-think-my-girlfriend’s-in-labor speed and I’m back in a flash. “You ready?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, but she’s smiling.
“I’m . . .” I sink to my knees and press a kiss to her rounded belly. “I’m desperately in love.”
“I love you too,” she says.
I nod. “Yes, that, but I was talking to the kid.” I cup her stomach in both hands. “What do you say, kiddo? Are you ready to meet your daddy?”
Shay cries out and crumples to the floor at the same time. I catch her on her way down. “I think we need to go.”
Shay
I was seven years old when I fell in love with Easton Connor and thirty-one when I made him a daddy for the second time. He wasn’t my baby’s biological father, but I was a romantic at heart who didn’t believe family lines were drawn at blood.
