Holly loved my muscles and showed her appreciation for them on a regular basis.
I liked that too.
A gust of wind blew through the trees, the branches swaying and bending deeply, dry leaves left over from fall dropping and swirling in the burst of air.
“Time to head in,” I announced, looking at the deepening clouds. “We might be in the studio for a while.”
“Can you light the fire, Daddy?” Angela asked. She loved the little potbelly stove I had in the corner of the studio. It threw a lot of warmth, making the room snug, even heating the shop below it. My girls loved to be warm.
“Yep.”
Inside, I pulled the heavy door shut behind me after setting down Angela. She ran upstairs, Holly following her, and I carried Hannah up with me. She was nestled into my chest, her little fingers gripping my shirt the way she always did. She loved to be held and snuggled, and I knew if I let her, she would stay that way our entire lunch.
I had no problem with that. I never denied my children my affection. I knew what it was like to grow up with none—to yearn for hugs and love. Holly and I were very liberal with our love for our girls—and each other. After all these years, that hadn’t changed.
Upstairs, I lit the fire, then shut the door once the flames licked at the kindling and paper, the heat beginning to build. Turning, I grinned at the sight in front of me. Hannah was waiting on the floor where I’d sat her, her chubby little legs kicking in impatience, her arms outstretched, anxious. I swooped her up with a flourish, delighting in her chuckles. She shoved a fist into her mouth, gnawing at her knuckles. She was a late starter when it came to teething, but she was making up for it fast.
Blankets were spread out in the middle of the room, Holly unpacked the lunch she brought, and Angela carried pillows from the pile in the corner, arranging them to her satisfaction. I sank to the floor beside Holly, nestling Hannah between my legs. She immediately pointed to the container of animal crackers, and I handed her one, amused by the way she grabbed it, chewing ravenously on it as if she hadn’t been fed in weeks. Between teething and her appetite, she had something in her mouth constantly these days. I brushed my hand over her wild curls and pressed a kiss to her head. Her only response was a growly noise that made Holly and me chuckle. Hannah was serious when it came to meals, and she concentrated fully on the food in front of her.
“The sideboard looks beautiful,” Holly commented, handing me another biscuit for Hannah.
“I’ll stain it next week, then varnish it. It should be done by the end of the month.” I glanced out the window as the glass rattled with the strong wind gusting outside. “Hopefully the sun will dry things out. It’s gonna be heavy enough to carry without worrying about puddles.”
Holly grinned, running her fingers along my bicep. “You’ll manage.”
Her touch made my body tighten. It always did. With a lewd wink, I leaned in and kissed her. Her full lips were soft underneath mine, and she tasted like coffee and something sweet and spicy—cinnamon.
“Did you bake today?” I asked eagerly.
Angela settled beside me, her cushions arranged to her liking. “We made pumpkin muffins, Daddy!”
“And raisin cookies,” Holly added.
“My two favorites,” I hummed. “Awesome.”
Holly finished unpacking the food, and I held a plate as Angela picked out her choices. Hannah was easy when it came to meals—there wasn’t a food we’d introduced she didn’t love. Angela was far more selective. Some crackers, a piece of cheese, and a peanut butter sandwich. Meat was a no go for her, as were most vegetables, although she liked carrots. Luckily, she loved fruit and yogurt, and our pediatrician told us to relax when I expressed my worry over her limited diet.
“She’s healthy and growing. She gets lots of protein with her choices. Let her find out what she likes and don’t force her. Her likes will grow as she does.” She patted my arm. “You’re doing good, Dad. Both of you are.”
I, like Hannah, loved everything, and I filled my plate with sandwiches, and all the extras Holly had made. I fed Hannah bits, listened to Angela’s chatter, and sat next to my wife, brimming with contentment. I loved these times with my family.
The fire warmed the room. Holly’s watercolors hung on the walls, and canvases were stacked neatly, ready to be used. I wasn’t the only one who thought her talented, and in the busy tourist season, one local shop regularly sold out of her paintings. I was incredibly proud of her.
“Daddy, I’m going to school soon!” Angela announced.
I glanced at Holly, unsure how to respond.
School?
She smiled in understanding. “We saw Mrs. Anderson in town earlier,” she explained. “Angela will be in prekindergarten in September.”
I swallowed. Prekindergarten? Where the hell had the time gone? It was only yesterday Angela was a baby in my arms—and now school?
“Already?” I croaked.
Holly patted my arm. “Just part days, Daddy.”
“We still get to keep Hannah,” I insisted, tightening my arms around my baby girl.
Holly laughed, her head tilted back in amusement. “We get to keep them both. It’s just a few hours during the day.” She met my gaze, her eyes twinkling. “It’s part of growing up, Evan.”
Angela bounced from her spot on the blanket. “I’ll get to spend time with my friends, Daddy. Carly is going too! I can teach you stuff when I get home!”
Carly was Angela’s best friend, and I knew she was excited. Still, I had to force a smile. “That’ll be awesome.”
Angela jumped up. “Chutes and Ladders time!”
I pushed away my plate, my appetite suddenly gone. “Okay, Angel-girl. Get the board.”
The wind rattled the glass again, and I looked up from where I was lying on the blanket. The sky was ominous and just as I was about to suggest we head to the house, the skies opened up and rain began to pour.
“Well, I guess we’re stuck here,” I mused.
“Not a bad place to be stuck,” Holly responded. “Besides, the girls are down for the count.”
I smirked. Hannah was a sleeping ball of warmth beside me, and Angela was sprawled across the blankets, having whooped my ass in three straight games. Hannah was too young to play, but she liked to move pieces around the board and, on occasion, attempt to eat them, so Holly had kept her busy, reading out loud to her while we played. Then both girls flaked out, full of lunch and happy.
“How is it possible to even think about school, Holly?” I asked. “Where the hell has the time gone?”
“This is really upsetting you,” she murmured. “Why?”
“I’m not ready for them to grow up.”
“But they are, Daddy,” she protested. “School or not. Every day, they get bigger and more independent. And they are awesome little girls. Think how much more awesome they’ll be once they get older.”
I sighed. “As I get older, you mean.”
“Well, there is that.”
“They make me feel young now. As babies. I like how they need me,” I admitted.
Holly offered me her hand, and I took it, tugging gently so she shifted closer. “They’ll always need you, Evan.” She smiled in understanding. “You’re their nucleus, and they revolve around you. But they have to grow, and it’s our job to help them.” She cupped my cheek, her touch tender. “They love you more than anything or anyone in this world. They always will.” She winked. “So will I.”
I leaned forward and kissed her. “That goes both ways, Holly. They and I love you equally as much.”
“I know. But you’re Daddy. And they are your girls. That’s special.”
I ran my hand over Hannah’s back. She huffed out a little sigh of contentment and snuggled closer. I smiled at her sweet little face.
“The house will seem empty,” I mused. “Angela is always running around with Hannah trailing behind her. She’s going to miss her big sister terribly.” I sighed. “I’ll miss her terri
bly.”
“I’m sure there will be other, ah, distractions for both of you.”
Something in her voice made me look up. She was smiling, biting her lip in one of her nervous tells.
“Distractions?”
She took my hand and placed it on her stomach. “Babies are very distracting.”
My eyes widened. “Babies? Holly? Are you…?” My voice trailed off in excitement and disbelief. After Angela was born, we had a lot of trouble conceiving Hannah. Holly got pregnant after we stopped stressing about having another child. Hannah was another unexpected gift for both of us. After she was born, we didn’t try not to get pregnant—but we didn’t not try either.
Apparently, my old bones still worked. I felt my smile stretch across my face. Wide. Hard. Ecstatic.
“I am.” She confirmed.
As carefully as I could, I shifted away from Hannah and knelt in front of Holly. “Angel—really?”
“Really.”
I gathered her in my arms, holding her close. I dropped kisses to her forehead, cheeks, nose, then captured her mouth and kissed her deeply. Then a thought occurred to me. “How pregnant?”
She smiled against my mouth. “Another Christmas baby.”
I laughed, dropping my head back on my shoulders in silent laughter. Angela was born on Christmas Day, Hannah on Boxing Day.
“What is it about spring with us?” I chuckled. “You’re extra fertile.”
“April Fools’ every time.”
I caressed her cheek. “So it seems.” I ran my finger over her stomach, grinning when she giggled. She was always more sensitive when she was pregnant. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Tired, but fine.”
“Have you seen the doctor?”
“Yes. Everything is good, and you’ll be there for the ultrasound as usual.”
“For everything.”
She cupped my cheek. “I know.” Her thumb brushed my skin. “Maybe we’ll have a little Brooks boy this time. Would you like that?”
“I’d like him or her to be healthy and happy. Nothing else. I don’t need to produce the next generation of Brooks men. My girls carry my name and my heart. That’s all I need.”
“I love you.”
I cradled her face in my hands, her beautiful, sweet, wonderful face, and I kissed her. “Angel, love isn’t a big enough word. It’s not a big enough feeling for what happened to me when you came into my life. What you continue to do in my life. You make everything… right.” I sighed. “You are the gift that just keeps giving, Holly. The best gift I ever got.” I kissed her again. “Thank you for being you. My perfect Angel.”
Her eyes were misty and her voice tender. “I’m hardly perfect, but I love being your Angel.”
I slid beside her and wrapped her in my arms. She settled close, her head resting on my shoulder. I slid my hand to her stomach, spreading my fingers wide, knowing my child was resting under my touch. Holly laid hers over mine with a happy sigh.
I stretched out my legs, grinning when Angela grasped my foot in her sleep. Hannah slept to one side, and Holly was curled into my other side. I was touching every member of my family—safe and secure inside our little nest.
Next Summer
I lifted the baby swing and let it go carefully, the motion making my son laugh. I loved that sound. His sweet, high giggle that completed my world. I puckered my lips and crossed my eyes, making funny noises, and he squealed in glee. Laughing, I lifted him from the swing, holding him high. He kicked his feet and he gurgled in happiness as I slowly lowered, then lifted him back up a few times, and swooshed him around like a plane. My son loved that game.
I brought him to my chest and kissed his cheek, chuckling as he squeezed mine between his long fingers. For only seven months old, he was freakishly strong.
Brandon was another “throwback” to my grandfather. Hair so dark it was black clung to his head in wild curls, which he got from Holly. The rest was me. He was long, lean, with eyes of bright green, and Holly simply referred to him as my Mini-Me. He was the biggest baby I had ever seen, and Holly had a great deal of trouble birthing him. When they handed him to me, I was shocked by his size. Twenty-three inches and almost ten pounds in weight. I had no idea how she carried him to term. But she did, and on New Year’s Eve, he was born—just like his sisters—in the middle of a storm. Holly joked it was tradition, and I supposed she was right.
We also decided three children were enough. I never wanted to watch Holly struggle that way again or feel the fear I did as we went through some tense moments. Holly was my world, and the thought of losing her was too much. Once she recovered and we talked, I had a vasectomy. We were so blessed, and I didn’t want her taking birth control—the side effects she could experience frightened me as well.
Brandon gnawed at his hand, bringing me back to the present, and I dug a teething biscuit out of my pocket. Unlike Hannah, he was early for everything. His first tooth started coming in at five months, and he seemed to pop them nonstop.
“There you go, my boy. Let’s go find Mommy and see what she’s doing, okay?” He grasped the biscuit, gumming happily as I walked toward the house.
As I rounded the side, I spied Holly in the garden. Angela was at her best friend Carly’s house but would be home by three. Hannah was on the porch, napping. My little dumpling loved her naps, but she never liked to be far away from Mommy, so I built a daybed and screened in the front porch so she could nap and be happy.
My footsteps carried me to Holly, who stood and brushed off her hands as we approached.
“There’re my two favorite boys.” She smiled and blew a raspberry on Brandon’s cheek, then leaned up for a kiss. I happily obliged, capturing her face with my free hand and caressing her lips. She hadn’t changed much, except to get prettier. Her hair was longer, still wild and curly, and she smiled all the time. As I suspected, she was a wonderful mother, a great partner, and loved by everyone who met her.
“Quite the harvest,” I observed, indicating the basket beside her.
She nodded. “There is a pile of peppers, zucchini, and tomatoes. I thought maybe I’d jar up some of that homemade salsa you like so much. You can take some to Carol and Dan too.”
“Awesome.”
A car pulling into the driveway diverted my attention. It was an SUV, silver in color, with rental car plates. A man was behind the wheel, and as I watched, he shut off the engine, spoke to someone in the back, and opened his door.
I chuckled. “Another lost tourist, no doubt.” It happened a lot in the summer.
Holly reached for Brandon and settled him on her hip. “Go give directions and get them unlost.” She tickled Brandon’s tummy. “We’ll wait here.”
I approached the SUV, prepared to give directions, my smile in place. But as I neared the vehicle, the man walked toward me, and something about him struck me as familiar. He was tall, with deep brown hair shot with silver. Sunglasses covered his eyes. He was dressed casually in jeans, a polo shirt, and a light jacket, but his posture was tense, his shoulders stiff. He had his hands buried in his pockets as I stopped a few feet away.
“Can I help you?”
He cleared his throat. “Hello, Evan.”
I frowned at his deep baritone, its familiar tone striking a long-forgotten memory.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
He took off his glasses and stepped forward. Recognition hit me in the gut, and I stared at him. I had only seen him once, but I remembered him.
“It’s me. Simon—Simon Fletcher.”
Holy shit.
My brother-in-law.
It was my turn to clear my throat. “What are you doing here?” I asked, once I had made sure my sister wasn’t in the passenger seat.
He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I realize seeing me must be a shock, but I needed to come and reach out.”
“Why?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “My daughter—your niece—asked to see you.”
For a moment, I was struck silent. Holly appeared at my side, Brandon still perched on her hip, chattering away in his baby voice, the sounds incoherent. She wrapped an arm around my waist in support. “Hello.”
He smiled, the action causing his hazel eyes to crinkle at the corners. “Hello. You must be Holly.”
“I am. And you are?”
“Kelsey’s husband,” I muttered.
He was fast to shake his head. “Ex-husband. We split up not long after I met you, Evan.” He huffed out a long breath. “Look, maybe I should have called or written, but it felt to me like this was best done in person. It’s a long story, but Mia wanted to meet you.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a well-loved worn little stuffed bear that I recognized. “She wanted to meet the man who gave her this.”
I stared at the bear. I had never looked in the discarded bag, assuming all the gifts I had brought that Christmas were still in it. “I-I thought that had been thrown out with the rest of the gifts.”
He shook his head. “I kept this and my tie.”
“Your tie?” I repeated.
“It was a nice tie. I still wear it.” He grinned, then became serious again. “Mia has carried that bear with her every day since. She loves every gift you have ever sent her.”
Every gift? All these years?
It had been Holly’s idea to try to keep some form of communication open with Mia. I thought it was a waste of time, but she had insisted, and every year, we sent Mia a gift and a card at Christmas. Simon owned his own investment company, so we sent the package to his office. He had been the only person even remotely kind to me that fateful Christmas, and I had thought he was the best chance of making sure the gifts were accepted. I had no idea until now if the gifts were received, but Holly wanted to keep sending them. Deep in my heart, I’d hoped Mia got them and knew that out there was someone who loved her, even if she couldn’t know me.
An Unexpected Gift (Insta-Spark Book 4) Page 10
