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Always You: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection Books 5-8)

Page 18

by Brenna Jacobs


  Ethan grinned. At fifteen months, Calvin was well behind the average age for walking, but the pediatrician had reassured Tessa that lots of kids didn’t walk until sixteen or seventeen months. His mom had told them that his brother hadn’t walked until fifteen months either.

  He stopped the recording and crawled over to scoop them both into a hug, dropping a kiss on each of their heads. “Go, Team Fuller!”

  Tessa’s phone rang again, and this time she wiggled her arm out of his embrace to scoop it up. Then she froze before scrambling out of his arms completely, leaving him with Calvin patting his cheeks and babbling, “Tee-Tee,” his version of “Auntie.”

  “It’s Rachel,” she said. He froze too and they both stared at it like it was a scorpion ready to strike. The phone stopped ringing, and Tessa met his eyes, hers full of fear. “What do I do?”

  He didn’t know. All he could feel was an overwhelming urge to snatch the phone from her hand and chuck it into the wall with enough force to obliterate it. Before he could answer, it vibrated again with another incoming call from Rachel.

  He took a deep breath. “I think you have to answer it.”

  She stared at it as it rang two more times, then she pressed the answer button. “Hello?”

  He watched her carefully as she listened and shot him another glance, this one both worried and confused. “I’ll be right there,” she said, and hung up. “She’s at my house again.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, already climbing to his feet with Calvin.

  She shook her head. “No. Let me see what she wants. I’ll call you in a little while.”

  For the next fifteen minutes he played with Calvin on the floor and tried not to go out of his mind. What was going on over there? A few times he couldn’t help picking up the toddler and hugging him, a sense of fear deeper than anything he’d ever known gripping him until each time, Calvin patted his cheek or shoulder and said, “Tin-Tin,” which was the closest he’d gotten to Ethan’s name so far.

  Finally, a text came in from Tessa.

  Everything is fine. Come over and meet my sister.

  Ethan walked over with Calvin on his shoulders, the toddler’s favorite way to travel. Normally Ethan loved it too, but now every footstep felt so heavy. What was he walking into? What was he walking Calvin into? Only his faith in Tessa kept him moving forward.

  He shifted Calvin into his arms when he reached her door and walked in without knocking the way he had for months now.

  Tessa was perched on the sofa arm, waiting for him, and smiled when he walked in. A young woman sitting with a death grip on the armchair fixed Calvin with an apprehensive stare.

  “Meet Rachel,” Tessa said. “Rachel, this is Ethan.”

  “Hi,” he said. He didn’t really understand the vibe in the room, so he shot Tessa a questioning glance before asking Rachel, “Do you want to hold him?”

  “No, I just wanted to see him.”

  Calvin didn’t even glance her way, and part of Ethan was secretly pleased that Calvin didn’t seem to recognize her. But the better part of him ached for Rachel in a way he couldn’t explain given how angry he’d been for Calvin when she first left him behind.

  “So what’s going on?” He tried for a casual note, but it was a loaded question.

  “Rachel . . .” Tessa started, and then her voice grew thick and she quit talking for a moment.

  “I asked her to adopt him,” Rachel said. She’d relaxed her grip on the chair and even leaned back a little, keeping her eyes on Calvin the whole time. She was dressed casually in jeans and a blouse, but neatly, her hair well-brushed and her skin clear and healthy-looking. He’d always somehow imagined her as emaciated and drawn.

  “Adoption?” His eyes flew to Tessa.

  She nodded, still speechless, but a growing smile was taking over her face as she reached for Calvin, who went to her with a cheerful, “Tee-Tee,” and more cheek patting.

  “I needed to see him to make sure I was doing the right thing,” Rachel said, reaching for the purse beside her on the floor. She withdrew a folder and set it on the coffee table. “These are the termination papers for my parental rights. They’re already notarized. If you file them with family court, you should have no problems. I did a lot of research to make sure.”

  “This is . . .” Ethan trailed off, not sure what to say, but even more sure it wasn’t his place to say anything at all.

  “I said yes,” Tessa told him. “I said it really loud. Yes, yes, yes.” She punctuated each one with a kiss on Calvin’s cheek.

  Rachel rose. “Thank you. It wasn’t fair for me to drop him on you like that, but I just didn’t know what else to do. If you need me for anything with the paperwork, just call.” She gathered her purse like she was going to leave.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Tessa said. “Stay. There’s a lot to talk about.”

  Rachel shook her head. “There’s not. Not really. I don’t feel toward him like a mother should. Once I left him, I slowly started to realize I had postpartum depression, and I thought I would feel differently when my hormones got back to normal, that I’d want to come back for him.” She sighed. “My mind is clearer now. I got an antidepressant that helped, and I’m working as a desk clerk at a big hotel in Vegas. I’m even starting the management trainee program next month.” The pride was clear in her voice. “But I’m also positive that I don’t want to be a mother. Seeing him only makes me sure of that. I see you with him, and it seems like this is how it always should have been, Tessa. It’s the only thing that keeps me from hating myself. I don’t know how I can love him so much and still be so sure that this is what I want, but I am. More sure than I’ve ever been of anything. But that doesn’t mean I’m not sad. I think I’d rather go, but I promise, if you call, I’ll answer. I won’t ghost you again.”

  She stopped by Calvin and dropped a soft kiss on his head. “Bye, baby. You have the best mama now.” Then she brushed past Ethan, wiping a tear from her eye and slipping out the door without looking back.

  Ethan looked back at Tessa, who had her face buried in Calvin’s neck, her arms wrapped around him so tightly that he gave a short squeal and began to squirm.

  “Wow,” Ethan said, and Tessa relaxed her grip on the baby and smiled at Ethan.

  “I know.”

  “You ready for this?”

  “Not at all. But maybe nobody is. All I know is that this is the happiest I’ve ever been. And I’m trying not to feel guilty about it because that feels really selfish.”

  “There is nothing selfish about adopting a baby,” Ethan said. “Your sister sounds like she’s in a good place to make this decision. You guys will have some details to work out about how much you tell Calvin and when, but she sounds like she’s ready to have those conversations whenever you are.”

  His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to glance at the screen, then stared at her, torn between laughing and groaning. “It’s my mom.”

  She grinned at him, and said, “ESP” at the same time as he did, which made them both laugh. “Go ahead and tell her,” she said.

  “In a minute. I need to grab something. I’ll be right back.” He raced back to his house, made a pit stop at his nightstand, and ran back to Tessa’s place, where he found her dancing around the living room with Calvin singing, “Mommy and Calvin, sitting in a tree, H-U-G-G-I-N-G forever.”

  “Is there room for a daddy in that equation?” he asked quietly.

  “What?” she said, turning to him with a smile and eyes only for Calvin.

  “I asked if there’s room for a daddy in that equation,” he repeated. Her smiled faded and he had her full attention now. He walked over to them and got down on one knee, pulling the ring box he’d been holding onto for the last two months from his pocket. “Tessa and Calvin Fuller, will you marry me?”

  Tessa’s mouth dropped open. Calvin clapped. “Tee-Tee, Tin-Tin.”

  Tessa gave a slow shake of her head, and Ethan’s heart stuttered. “No
, Calvin. Mama.” Then she knelt in front of Ethan and pressed a kiss against his lips. “And Daddy.”

  <<<<>>>>

  I hope you enjoy Ethan and Tessa’s story!

  Leave a review for Embracing her Ever After

  a sweet romantic comedy

  BRENNA JACOBS

  Chapter 1

  Fletcher Gates left the fire chief’s office and pulled the door closed behind him. He tried not to notice the sigh of relief that escaped him, but to tell the truth, this had been the most intimidating job interview of his career. Not because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be offered the job; on the contrary, he was more afraid he’d get it and not live up to his reputation, or his father’s reputation. He looked around the empty hallway, grateful to see that no one had heard him. He knew that in an alpha-male place like a fire station, even a sigh could be seen as a sign of weakness.

  But Fletcher was not weak, and he was no rookie just out of fire school. He’d been a successful Bureau of Land Management firefighter for five years, working as a smokejumper on some of the most devastating wildfires in the country. And now he’d earned a place on Greensburg’s crew—by his own merit and through his own good work. Even so, coming back to his hometown to join the city station left him feeling more anxious than any burning mountainside.

  He didn’t like to think too deeply about the sources of that anxiety. He was sure he wouldn’t like to confront certain aspects of his past life here, that was all.

  He stood in the hallway for a moment, settling into his new reality. He had been offered a new job. A great job. Possibly his dream job. More quickly than he could have imagined, everything had clicked together and now this was his life.

  Confident that it was precisely what he both wanted and needed, Fletcher wondered at the prickle of unease.

  Maybe it was as simple as coming back home.

  Or as complicated as finding a place in an established brotherhood like this fire station.

  It didn’t help that the chief had been his father’s coworker for many years, and almost certainly looked at Fletcher as a kid.

  Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? Fletcher had spent so many hours on the station lawn and in the rec room throwing baseballs and footballs with his dad, he’d practically grown up as the station mascot.

  Right. That was it. It must be. He wanted to be seen as a man, not as a kid. And now he would be. His concern had nothing to do with anything else—or anyone else he might encounter now that he was back in town.

  Fletcher wandered down the short hallway and back to the small reception desk, a new installment since the days his dad had worked at the station. A pretty, dark-haired woman held a phone to her ear with her shoulder while typing rapidly and, somehow, simultaneously flipping through a stack of papers. She caught his eye and gestured toward a chair.

  Before he could sit, though, he saw a giant pile of bags and boxes moving toward the glass front door, completely obscuring all but the legs of the person carrying them. He reached the door and pushed it open at the exact second that the woman holding the huge pile leaned it all against the door to reach for the handle. At his push, the door knocked into the parcels, and everything, including the woman, sailed in a comical arc before it all went crashing to the ground.

  Blankets, books, and stuffed animals tumbled out of the tops of bags, covering the now-sitting woman right up to her unmistakable crazy, red curls.

  Without thinking, Fletcher said, “Hadley?”

  He felt every thump of his pulse, the nerves prickling at the back of his hands and neck, the unique rush of breath in his lungs and blood to his brain that he had always felt in her presence, that always left him deliciously off balance.

  The woman on the floor pushed the top of the pile away from her so she could look up.

  Fletcher’s breath caught at the sight of her face, that moment between surprise at being knocked to the ground and surprise at seeing him.

  Thinking she’d burst out laughing any second, he watched and waited for her to go first, because he certainly wasn’t the kind of guy who would knock a person over and then laugh at her. But for years, he’d laughed with her. He had known her long enough and well enough to know that her instinct was to chuckle at a situation like this, but she didn’t. Looked like in seven years her instincts had changed.

  Not only did she not laugh, her smile evaporated as soon as she caught his eye. Watching her face grow from merely annoyed to fully disgusted took only seconds, but in those few seconds, Fletcher relived the end of their four-year relationship. He felt again every contributing reason they’d ended.

  Hadley scowled at him. “Fletcher Gates. Every time I see you, you’re dumping me.”

  Fletcher was sure his mouth hung open. There was literally no way to respond to that, besides the obvious denying it was even true. Because it was certainly not true.

  He reached down to help her from the floor. All the packages that had landed on and around her as she fell tumbled across the sidewalk, spilling teddy bears and fuzzy blankets to unlikely distances. This woman did nothing by halves.

  She didn’t take his hands. She didn’t reach for his outstretched arms. She shoved the remaining packages off of her lap and tried to push herself up without his help. Typical.

  It didn’t take her long to decide that she’d maintain more dignity if she just took his hands and let him help her up. With a sigh of what sounded like resignation, she held her hands out to him.

  Grasping both her arms, he pulled her off the ground. His fingers tightened around her arms, muscle memory igniting. Every reflex told him to keep pulling her all the way into an embrace, but her stiffness reminded him that it wasn’t his right anymore. He made do with placing his hand on her back to assure them both that she was stable on her feet. Not because he particularly wanted to remember the feeling of his hand on her back. Politeness, that was all; at least that’s what he needed to convince himself to feel now.

  Taking a step away from him, she smoothed her sweater and put her fists on her hips. She looked him up and down as though she was inspecting something that didn’t pass muster. “Huh. So it’s true. You’re back.”

  It’s true? She’d heard? He wondered who had told her. Preparation did not seem to have made this encounter any more pleasant for her. She could not have sounded less glad to see him. Her glare cut into him. Fletcher had no idea how he was supposed to reply to her comment. How, he wondered, could a woman half his size be so scary?

  Years of practice, he reminded himself. Years of practice.

  He knew that within a few hours, he’d be feeling as repelled by the thought of her as she was currently at the sight of him. When he took some time to consider their history, he’d not only remember all the reasons they’d ended, but also feel the leftover anger and resentment and sadness. No matter what the surprise of seeing her did to his pulse, they were simply wrong together, whether “together” meant in a relationship or simply in the same room.

  So why couldn’t he take his eyes off her?

  Maybe it was her hair. He’d always loved her careless, messy red hair, which was currently pulled up in a pile on top of her head that may have taken hours to curate, or no time at all. She had always been a mystery like that.

  Or maybe it was the green sweater she had on. The way it brought out the color of her eyes…

  What was he thinking? He shook his head. She started haphazardly repacking things into bags and boxes.

  He recognized that although she hadn’t directly asked him a question, she had spoken last, and nobody could accuse him of not being a gentleman. “Yeah. I’m back.” He propped the door open with his foot and gathered spilled picture books into a nearby box.

  There was more he should say, he knew. Good to see you? She wouldn’t buy it, and he wasn’t sure even he believed it. She sure looked good, but this moment couldn’t be much more awkward. Have you seen my mom? No. She would have mentioned it. Glad you’re still in town? He wasn’t sure how tru
e that even was. So he left his completely obvious and unnecessary statement hanging there between them.

  The dark-haired woman left the reception desk and pushed past Fletcher. She knelt beside Hadley on the sidewalk and helped shove things back into boxes.

  The two women shared one of those looks that communicates things men can’t register, and Fletcher picked up some refilled boxes and set them inside the door. Ignoring both the whispers and the sounds of disdain passing between them, he picked up bags and boxes they passed him until everything that had somehow once been in Hadley’s arms was now inside the station.

  “Anything else?” Fletcher asked.

  Something snapped in Hadley’s eyes, that fire of independence that Fletcher had once loved. “If there was, I could get it,” she said, but then softened her tone. “But this is all of it.”

  The dark-haired woman put an arm over Hadley’s shoulders. “This is incredible,” she said. “You gathered all of this in a week?”

  Hadley shrugged, her head tilting to the side. That particular expression, he knew, meant that she would like to imply that it was nothing, even though she was really proud of what she’d done.

  Hadley added a small, dismissive gesture with her hand. “I put up a sign in the shop, and I offered a trade for kids’ books.”

  So, she’d done it, Fletcher thought. She’d always wanted to work in a bookstore, and it sounded like now she did. He wondered which shop in town had hired her. He was hovering on the balance between hoping he might wander into the right one and hoping he never accidentally entered the right one when the dark-haired woman turned to face him.

  “Is there something you need?” The words were benign, but the hostility of her tone was unambiguous.

  Professional, Fletcher thought to himself. I’m a professional. “Are you Samantha? I’m supposed to fill out some forms with Samantha.”

 

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