by Lainey Davis
Epilogue
8 Months Later
TIM
A lice finally agreed to marry me in early May. Our families gathered in her parents’ back yard and one of my friends from law school, now a judge in the city courts, officiated. Alice's wild hair hung long and loose, spilling down her back and around the deep green dress that hugged our baby.
The round form of our son jutted from Alice’s front, taut and centered so you’d never know she was pregnant from the back. As I pulled her in to kiss her after our vows, I felt him kick and admired his timing.
A few days after the ceremony, Alice carries the final box into our kitchen. She began sleeping here with me as soon as we finished painting and all the fumes dissipated. We sold my penthouse and have been gradually rearranging so the house is ready for Baby Stag. Gran decided she was more comfortable on the third floor, despite all the stairs, and it seems like every corner of our home has fresh life in it. Alice has added plants, family photographs, and soft rugs. Every room has a quiet place to sit, with a stash of baby supplies.
She’s really taken this musty old house, full of sadness and grief, and transformed it into a place of love and life and hope. I take the box from her hands--her cookbooks are far too heavy for someone 40 weeks pregnant--and pull her into my arms. “Mrs. Stag, you should be resting.”
“Mr. Stag, I feel restless!” she giggles. “I keep having this feeling there’s something else I need to be doing, but I can’t figure out what it would be.” She shrugs and lets me massage her shoulders. “Mmm that feels nice.”
I move so I’m standing behind her, pulling her close against me, massaging her shoulders and rubbing her arms while I kiss her neck. I twist her hair around my fist and lift, blowing gently on the nape of her neck. “I can help you find an outlet for that nervous energy,” I tell her. When she groans I let my hand drift lower, lower, meeting the heat of her core.
“Tim.” Her tone shifts, her body stiffens under my hands.
“What’s up, babe?”
“I’m having a contraction.”
My hand shoots instinctively to her belly, where I feel the strong muscles tighten and eventually soften. “It’s really happening! Ok, what do we do?”
“Now we just walk and wait,” Alice says, pulling my hand. She asks me to text her sister, who of course tells her brothers and they somehow reach my brothers. Soon enough, our house is full of aunts and uncles taking turns rubbing Alice’s lower back, breathing with her as she walks up and down the stairs.
A few hours later, Alice can no longer talk through her contractions and she tells me it’s time to head into the Midwife Center. I freeze, momentarily terrified. I’m not ready. How can anyone ever be ready for this? My brothers squeeze my arms, and I look at them. “You got this, big bro,” Thatcher says. “We’ll be right behind you in Amy’s minivan.”
I nod and, breathing slowly through my nose, I help Alice into the back seat of the Volvo. I try to help her with her seatbelt, but Alice shoves my arm out of the way. She isn’t talking right now, breathing through pursed lips. She leans backwards over the seat. “You’re not going to buckle up? Alice, that’s--”
“Tim, just fucking drive.” She nestles her head in her hands and I see that there’s no getting around this. She groans as I drive through the night, much too fast for neighborhood roads. “Next time I think we should just stay home,” she says, in between contractions.
Carol greets us at the door and ushers us quickly inside the Desert Room. As quickly as Alice is able to move, in between groans and long contractions. I ask Carol if she’s planning to check Alice’s progress, but Carol smiles as Alice moans long and deep. “No need to check anything, Tim. Your wife is about to birth this baby.”
The second we cross the threshold, Alice drops to her hands and knees. I move around front of her to meet her eyes. She locks her gaze onto mine and puts her hands on my shoulders. She starts panting and I can see her body squeezing. Her body is pushing a human being to the outside. “Alice, you’re so amazing, sweetheart. You humble me right now, baby.”
She can’t speak. She’s not blinking and I don’t dare break her gaze until suddenly, she starts breathing easily again. “The head’s out,” Carol says softly. “Alice, reach down and feel your baby.” I’m frozen in awe, looking down to see the dark curls of our son. “One more big push and he’ll be here with us.” Carol puts a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Tim, why don’t you reach down and catch your babe?”
I don’t even pause to think that I have no idea what to do. Alice groans one final time and I reach out to lift the slippery, pink, howling child my wife just brought into the world. Sobbing, I hand him to Alice. Because it's a him. A son. I have a son. She gazes down at him, euphoric, kissing him everywhere. Peter Stag is here to change everything. Somewhere in the distance, I hear Carol congratulating us, telling us he’s healthy and that Alice is perfectly fine.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear my brothers and Alice's siblings spilling into this room that’s no longer a desert but an ocean of love. At the center of it, amid all the cheers, kneels Alice, looking radiant and exhausted. When I meet her eyes again, she is so much more than she was a second ago. My wife, my world, the mother of my son. I lean in to kiss her and wrap my arms around this family that will make me whole and teach me every day to let go and trust. “I love you,” I whisper to them both. “I love you.”
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Filled Potential
Stag Brothers Book Two
By Lainey Davis
One
JUNIPER
There's nothing like the pull of the oars on the river at sunrise. I'll never grow tired of this feeling, alone in the water, just me and the current. I was a girl on fire this morning. I pulled out a 10k on the river in record time. Probably because I'm so excited about my job offer. I was fairly certain I'd get offered a position at the firm where I interned my last year of law school, but nothing is ever certain until the ink is dry on the contract.
I feel so proud of myself as I slip back into my sandals on the dock before hoisting my boat above my head, carrying it back into the spot I rent in the boathouse. I pay more to house my beloved scull than I pay Zack for rent. I don't feel too badly about that, though, because his parents have been paying the lease on our apartment for years.
I wonder for the thousandth time why I'm still with Zack. As I walk toward home, I hear my father's concerned voice. Juniper Jones, I didn't raise you to settle. All through college, Zack was just…safe. Between my training for crew and trying to graduate early, I didn't have much time to devote to relationships. I fell into an easy rhythm with Zack. He was a year older than me, but we graduated at the same time and moved in together. To the apartment along the Charles a few blocks from his father's investment company where Zack now works.
As I walk home, I think about how I've been wanting to move. Somewhere maybe closer to my new office. We could find a middle ground, a place that's really just ours, now that I won't be living off student loans. My mind is adrift with possibility as I mount the stairs to our townhouse on Sparks Street. A light in the front room is on, which registers as strange, but I throw my keys on the table and head upstairs. Stopping in the bathroom, I turn on the shower to warm up and walk toward our room, stripping out of my sweaty clothes and tossing them in the hamper.
I'm not sure what makes me look up, but I do. I look at our bed and see Zack sitting in it. Next to a naked woman with the covers pulled up to hide her breasts. Zack looks stunned. The woman sneers at me and says, "Are you planning to join us then?"
Two
TY
I stare at my name on the contrac
t, watching as the black ink dries on the page. My brother Tim sits across the table from me, grinning from ear to ear. "Welcome home, little brother," he says, rising to fold me into a hug.
Well, he doesn't really fold around me. I'm probably twice the size of him now, and I remind him of this. "You can barely get your arms around me these days, dude." But not even a tradition of goofing around can overpower the emotions I'm feeling right now.
After years playing with the Vancouver Blades and then festering back in the minors, I've been traded to Pittsburgh. Hockey has taken me all over the world and now, finally, it's bringing me back home. This time with a hefty raise and a multi-million dollar, air-tight NHL contract. My brother represents the players union and worked with my agent. "I can't thank you enough for this, Timber," I say, looking into his eyes.
Tim's looked out for me and my brother Thatcher ever since our mom died in a car accident when I was 9. Our dad never got over it and has basically been drunk ever since. Tim is the one who enforced our curfew and made sure we kept our grades up. Now he's making sure I'm treated right, and I'm grateful to him.
I shake hands with the suits from the Pittsburgh Fury and they head out, leaving me with my agent and my brother and our rare steaks.
Matty, my agent, starts talking about arrangements. I got called up pretty late in the season, but career ending injuries for other guys mean life-changing opportunities for me. As my brother reminds me, this is my chance to get my shit together, rein in my temper, and play some fucking hockey. The Fury are in the Stanley Cup playoffs and my contract has me starting practices this coming Monday. I haven’t even moved my shit out of my apartment in Canada yet. I nod along as Matty explains how he'll send in some company to pack up my personal shit and ship it over here. I'll have to get all new Fury-branded gear anyway, so I don't need much more than the Armani suit I'm wearing. "Matty," I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder. "I'm 100% certain you'll take care of everything and whatever you miss, my brother here will clean up. If you'll excuse me, I believe I'm going to go celebrate."
I slip off my tie and jacket and hand them to my brother. He shakes his head as I walk out of the fancy-ass restaurant, shouting after me to “wrap it up, Ty! I’m serious!” There's only one thing I want to round out an evening like this, and that's a firm pair of tits in my face while I'm balls-deep in some pussy.
I walk along Liberty Ave until I find a club where the bouncer recognizes me and nods me inside. I slide up to the bar, order myself a top shelf tequila, and almost immediately, a smoking hot chick winds her way through the crowd straight toward me.
