Trent pounded the table jovially. “Bring it on, girl.”
Viv smiled and hooked her arm around her husband, waiting to hear what Mila said.
“What have you got there, Mila?” Monet asked, leaning hard against my side.
She tapped her mouth with the envelope. “Let’s just call this an early wedding present, shall we?”
She set the large white envelope in front of Monet and me.
“Go ahead, open it.” She stood next to Atlas. Still seated, he looped an arm around her waist and rested his cheek against where their baby grew.
Monet picked up the envelope, ripped the seal, and then pulled out a stack of papers. She picked up the top single sheet and laid the rest on the table. I tried to read over her shoulder but couldn’t really see in the low lighting. Instead, I sipped my beer and waited. Except, the woman in my arms went dead still and gasped as though she’d been stung. Her hand went to her mouth, and tears fell down her cheeks.
What the hell? Anger threatened my calm mood as I watched my girl become emotional.
“Oh my God!” she said through her fingers, muffling the sound.
“What the ever-loving fuck…” I snatched the paper away.
The top of the form read LabCorp Genetics. I knew a buddy of Atlas’s who worked there. A guy by the name of Bradley Grover. Worked him over at the gym a couple of times, but he hadn’t been back in a while. Probably scared him off with the hardcore workout.
“This your friend’s company?” I asked Atlas, shaking the piece of paper.
He nodded. “Slow your anger roll, Clay. How’s about you read it before you rip our heads off for making your girl cry.” He knew me too well.
I clenched my teeth hard. Next to me, Monet was crying her eyes out. I held her close and scanned the letter quickly. There were a bunch of boxes lined up next to one another showing perfect matches. Getting to the bottom, I scanned the text. Then I read it again more slowly to make sure I wasn’t misreading.
* * *
We compared twenty-one genetic markers by multiplying twenty-three paternity indexes derived from twenty of the genetic loci we test to determine paternity of one Lily Holland against the DNA of Clayton Hart.
Based on the testing results included within, the probability of paternity is ninety-nine-point-nine percent (99.9%).
It is confirmed that five-year-old Lily Holland is the biological child of Clayton Hart.
* * *
“She’s mine.” I gasped and rubbed at my chin. “Lily’s mine. Really mine. How in the world?” Monet wrapped her arms around me and cried into my neck. I held her close and looked up at my friends. “How did this happen?”
Mila rubbed her belly. “Well, Monet told me about the conversation you had about you being a donor at the clinic Moe went to and that your blood type was rare and the same as Lily’s, and obviously, you love her so much. I just couldn’t let it go. Are you mad that we went behind your back?” Mila frowned and sucked in a breath she didn’t let out for a long time.
“Not mad,” I said the two words in a monotone.
“Happy?” Atlas goaded.
“Not happy.”
Silence went around the table, and I lifted a crying Monet to stand. I curled both hands around her jaw and swiped away her tears. “She’s mine.”
Her chin trembled, and she bit into her bottom lip. Tears ran in a river down her face. “That’s what it says.” Her eyes flickered to mine and around as if she was afraid.
“She’s mine,” I repeated, letting the truth fill my pores and permeate my being. “My daughter. Of my flesh.” I pounded my chest with my fist.
Monet just nodded, more tears falling.
“I’m fucking ecstatic. This is the best news of my entire life!” I pulled Monet close and roared. “Lily is my daughter!”
The table cheered along with us.
I hugged my woman, tears falling from my own eyes. I skated my lips across her ear. “Never going to let you two go. You own my heart. You and our daughter own my heart.”
Together we wept, we kissed, and we celebrated with our friends.
Lily ran up with Will hot on her heels.
“Baby, come here.” I kneeled down to her. “Hey, you remember what you asked me a long time ago? And we told you that I had to marry your mommy?”
Her big blue eyes, darker than my own but still very much like mine, widened. “Are you my daddy now?”
“Yes, baby. I’m your daddy. And you know what we just found out?”
I scooped her up and held her between Monet and me. “You’ve always been mine. A test was done and we found out that I’m your real daddy.”
“My forever daddy,” she clarified simply.
Her forever daddy. That hugged my heart, and I felt it clench, the message seeping deep.
“Yes, love bug. Clayton is your forever daddy,” Monet confirmed.
“King Daddy it is!” She clapped and hugged us both. “Can I tell my friends now?”
I chuckled and kissed her cheek. “You can tell everyone in the world, honey.”
She kicked her feet to be let down. “Will…I gotta tell you somefing!”
Everyone around the table laughed, and each person got up to hug us one at a time, sharing in our bliss.
Epilogue
MONET
One year later…
The buzz of the needle pierced my skin for the millionth time that day. My lower back and hip were sensitive, but for the most part I’d been fine. I enjoyed the bite of the tattoo needle. There was something sexy and illicit about the pleasure pain of each new pinprick. I could see why people would get obsessed with getting them. Except, for me, this was my fourth and last session.
I found through my sessions under the needle that individuals came to get tattoos for different reasons. Some to sleeve their arms and legs with splendid things that reminded them of good times, or cherished totems, maybe even hope for the future. Some came to commemorate an important event or were symbols of unity and friendship. Then there were the people like me. The patrons who were getting something appealing to cover something ugly, to wash away the past.
Each new lily and leaf added to the vine of flowers on my back took another piece of Kyle’s mark away and replaced it with beauty. Just like Clayton suggested. Once we’d become engaged, I immediately started the process of covering up the damage Kyle had done to me. Amazingly, it was extremely cathartic. Every inch that was covered took another pound of weight off my chest and released me from my past. Today it would be finished. Kyle erased from my life forever.
Besides marrying my man in a small wedding on the beach in Maui a few months ago, nothing could make me happier.
“How’s it going over here, beautiful?” Clayton walked over to me, shirtless, cellophane wrapped around his own fresh artwork.
“Let me see?” I asked.
He got closer to where I lay on the table so I could take in the majestic art. He was adamant about getting the same lily flowers over his scar that he’d gotten from Kyle. Lilies for our daughter, the same flowers I had running up the entire right side of my back. He said it united us in letting go of our past. United in all things.
Two lilies, pale lavender with black trim, and swirls of black lines and leaves wove up the side of his waist and onto his ribcage. The flowers had yellow centers that burst with color, giving the flowers a very realistic appeal to them.
“Pretty cool, yeah?” He checked it out himself in the long mirror across from me.
“Very cool.” I wanted to wax poetic about how much it meant to me, but he knew. I didn’t need to say anything to show my love and appreciation. My husband just knew. Like he always did when it came to me. To us.
“All right, Moe, you’re done.” The tattoo artist rolled his chair back and put down his gun. “I’m going to slap some salve on it and wrap you. Go ahead and take a look. I went over everywhere thoroughly, but if you feel anything needs a touch-up, you let me know and we’ll knock it out
free of charge.”
I nodded. “All I want to know is if you covered every single inch of the scar. Entirely.” I was adamant about that. Every speck had to be covered.
“I knew the rules. It’s covered. Clay, man, take a look.” He gestured to my newly tatted skin.
Clayton bent over me and ran his finger down the healed parts of the tattoo, sending a shiver of delight rippling through me. He glanced up at my face, knowing what he’d done, and gave me a wink. Then he focused on the new ink. He got close and inspected it thoroughly, knowing if he said it was covered, I’d believe him.
“Nothing to see here, beautiful, but a sexy-as-fuck tattoo down my woman’s back.” He shot me one of his sinful smiles that spoke of long mornings in bed and long nights of the same.
I shimmied up to a standing position. The artist handed me a mirror, and for the first time ever, I was excited to see my back. Usually the sight of the scar instantly took me back to that horrible day and the pain Kyle caused. Now I had something to look forward to.
I lifted the mirror and checked it out. Running from my hip all the way up in a wide, sweeping trail were bunches of lilies in varying sizes and shapes. Black lines swirled magically around the flowers, flowing in and out. Leaves of a bright green hugged the edges here and there, and the centers were a startling yellow as if, when touched, pollen would stick to my fingertips. Nothing had ever been so life-changing except my baby when the nurse handed her to me after her birth.
“My goodness, Clay.” I reached for his arm to steady myself, gratitude and acceptance rolling over me in waves.
“Monet. Baby, do you see now how gorgeous you are to me?” He asked the question he repeated every day. My answer was always the same. No. Today, and every day after, that would change.
He wrapped an arm around me, his hand coming close to the new design but not touching it. I memorized that moment, seeing his tanned hand against my skin and the colorful flowers sweeping along my back.
“Yes, Clay. I finally do see.” Because I was beautiful. Now I could look at myself with pride. I could wear a strapless dress and show off the beauty I’d given myself. “Thank you. Thank you for making me see.”
He smiled and kissed me. “Love you, Mrs. Hart.”
“I love you, Mr. Hart.”
“So, Clay, man, when’s your next one?” the tattoo artist inquired.
Clayton chuckled and twined his fingers with mine. “Don’t know. Probably when I have another kid and need to add another flower.” He shrugged.
The man laughed, and I clenched Clay’s hand. His eyes flashed to mine.
“Better make your appointment soon, then.” I lifted his hand to my belly.
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That I should plan to make an appointment or I already need an appointment?”
I laughed and shook my head. Men could be so dense sometimes. We women always had to lay it all out for them.
“I’m saying in about seven months, you’re going to be a daddy…well, a daddy again.”
His mouth opened and closed. “I’m going to be a…” He ran his hands through his spiked hair twice and then turned to me. “You’re carrying my baby?” he asked, awe coating every word.
I smiled wide. “I am. That’s why I had to rush this appointment. I just found out and didn’t want to wait to finish the last of the tattoo, so we’d be free.”
“She’s carrying my baby,” he announced to the tattoo artist.
The man just laughed and walked away, giving us our space.
Clayton looked like he was completely mystified.
“You gonna hug me or what?” I laughed.
“Fuck yeah!” He pulled me in his arms. “You’re carrying my baby,” he whispered into my neck. “We’re going to have a baby. Lily’s going to be a big sister.”
“I can’t wait,” I admitted, as happy as I could ever be.
Clayton pulled back and stared deeply into my eyes, and I saw it all. Our future was endless blue skies.
“Monet, before you, I was going through the motions. Work, gym, a couple of friends. Nothing gave me joy. Not like we have now. I had love in my life but not the love of a good woman. You came along and filled my heart with love, my days with laughter, my bed with a beautiful woman.” He gripped me more firmly and brought his face a scant inch from mine so nothing could intrude on this moment.
“For you, my wife…my love is limitless.”
THE END
Want more of the Lotus House clan?
Continue on with Honor Carmichael
and Nicholas Salerno’s story in…
* * *
Silent Sins
Book Five in the Lotus House Series
(April 3, 2018)
* * *
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Excerpt From Silent Sins - A Lotus House Novel (Book 5)
NICHOLAS
Lotus House is alive with energy when I enter, and my baby sis, Gracie, is hot on my heels. She’s wearing a bright smile and the new yoga outfit I bought her to celebrate her first day.
“Hey, Nick!” Dara waves from the front desk where she’s helping a blonde customer sign up for classes. Luna, the owner’s daughter, is behind her, filing something away in the cabinets.
“Ladies, bringing in my baby girl Gracie to teach her first Vin Flow class. You pumped, Gracie?” I ask, knocking her shoulder playfully.
“So pumped!” She squeals and does a little touchdown jig.
Dara smiles huge. “Girl, you know you got this. I’ve taken your substitute classes. Just remember, when you lose your place, breathe through it and go into tree, warrior, or child’s pose, depending on if you have them standing or on the mat.”
Gracie leans into the counter, bumping the petite blonde next to her. “Oh, sorry.”
The blonde looks up, but all I can see is her profile. And what a damn fine profile it is. Classic, proud chin, a small, straight nose, and bee-sting-reddened lips. Her skin is so pale I can see the light-blue veins running just under the surface of her long, swan-like neck. Her blond hair is a golden platinum that’s bundled up on top of her head, making her look more like a ballerina than a yoga student.
She mumbles something and then tips her head down, just as I round over to Gracie’s side so I can see her more clearly. Long, black, fanned eyelashes meet the top of her cheeks as she focuses on the initial new client paperwork in front of her.
Smoothly, or not so smoothly, I encircle Gracie’s bicep and ease her around behind my body and to the other side so I can be next to the willowy creature who’s yet to look up. Something about her is calling to me, forcing my hand as I touch her shoulder.
Her gaze flashes up, eyes a foamy see-through gray, like cloudy white quartz. With a mere glance, I’m lost. Gone.
Sorrow. Sadness. Pain. All those emotions flash behind her gaze before she licks her lips and looks back down. She drops the pen, her hand shaking when she picks it back up.
A barrage of images parades across my vision like a mini-movie. Looking at her eyes over dinner. Watching those eyes twinkle as I make her laugh. Staring into them, lust-filled with desire, as I press into her naked body. Sharing past sadness and helping her find peace while holding her in my arms. Her tears falling as she bares her soul.
For the first time ever, I’ve looked into a woman’s eyes and seen my future, and it centers entirely around me being the man for her.
I stand there like a numbskull while she finishes her paperwork and enters the main entrance with her new lotus-shaped entry card.
“Fuck. Did that just happen?” I whisper under my breath and press the palm of my hand against my forehead.
Dara places her hand over my fisted one on the counter. My entire body is strung tighter than a drum, and I have no idea why. “Loosen up. She’s taking your class in fifteen minutes.” She chuckles.
I turn my head and focus on my f
riend. She’s an exotic, stunning woman. Her brown skin and ocean-blue eyes are startlingly unusual and nothing like those of the delicate blonde I just blanked out on after a single gaze.
“Hmmm, I’m guessing that rule you’ve got about not dating clients…” she hedges.
“Out the fucking window,” I growl, staring at the closed doors, wishing I could see through it and catch one more glimpse of her.
Dara laughs hard, followed by Luna, who snickers and wiggles around doing a little dance. Christ, these women are as bad as my own sisters. Speaking of which, I do a three-sixty and realize that Gracie is gone. “Where’s my sister?”
“Cool your jets, man. She’s setting up for her first class,” Dara offers.
I hunch over and shake my head, trying to clear it of the woman I’ve just seen. “I meant to take her to her class.” My big brotherly duty is feeling neglected as I stand stupidly, my feet stuck to the floor.
“Oh, how sweet. Like she’s in kindergarten, and she needs her big brother to walk her in and protect her from the big bad yogis.” Luna jabs me in the chest with a pointy finger.
“Ouch!” I rub at the spot and realize what she’s said is the truth. Gracie doesn’t need her big brother hovering. “Just wanted to make her feel supported. I’m proud of her.”
Luna nods. “Then show her that by proving you know she can handle herself. No helicopter brothering at Lotus House. Got it?”
Her words are firm and brook no argument. I swear, if I had a dime for every time I was bossed around by a beautiful woman, I’d be rich as hell.
I toss my towel over my shoulder. “Fine. You sure the blonde is taking my class?”
Dara nods. “Yep. I offered Gracie’s Vin Flow, but she chose Introduction into Aerial Yoga.”
“Did you warn her that it’s a lot of hanging from silks above a mat?”
Limitless Love: A Lotus House Novel: Book Four Page 28
