"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. And I didn't. I guess maybe a part of me was worried he would think it was inappropriate for her to think that so soon, that maybe he didn't want her thinking or saying things like that to me.
As a whole, I was confident with the direction things were going with Colson, but there was always this insecure, niggling little voice in the back of my head that whispered ugly things about things not working out, about him finally realizing he could do better, that I was not the influence he wanted on his daughter after all.
Because, the longer things went on, the more I got to know Colson, the clearer it became what an incredible man he was.
He was patient and calm even in the midst of chaos. He was a voice of reason even when I was losing my cool. Or, let's face it, losing my temper.
He was a decent cook, a good housekeeper, a phenomenal father, a great brother, a loyal friend.
It was hard to accept at times that he actually wanted to be with a junk food addicted, foul-mouthed, impatient, inappropriate woman with no friends, a teenage son, a dependent mother, and an utter inability to remember to do the laundry until I was out of clean panties.
"I'm glad she loves you, babe," Colson said, seeming to pick up on my insecurity. He was good at that. "But I never had any doubts about that. I don't think it's possible not to love you, Eva."
Forget sleeping it off, a gallon of coffee, a session with the porcelain throne. Those words were officially the best way to become instantly sober.
They slid over my skin, slipped in, turned my insides to mush.
"Did you... are you..." I started, unable to force the words out.
Colson turned, grabbing a spoon, stirring the pasta, taking his sweet time.
When he finally turned back, he moved closer, pushing between my thighs, putting his hands on the counter to the sides of my hips.
"Yes," he said, nodding.
"I, um, I'm afraid I am going to need to hear you say it," I told him.
His head ducked down a little, gaze unwavering.
"I love you."
"You do?" I asked, hearing the squeaky, school-girl tone to my voice.
"Yeah," he confirmed.
"Why?"
"Well, I have to admit, your ability to sock food away is at the top of the list," he told me, smiling.
"As it should be," I agreed.
"You're amazing, Eva. I don't think you have ever had someone tell you that before. But you've been through a lot. You've dealt with a lot. And you haven't lost your light through all those dark times. You don't see that a lot in life. It's special. I feel really fucking lucky that I get to be around it."
My arms went up, grabbing his neck, pulling him down toward me, lips hovering near his.
"I love you back," I told him, then sealed my lips to his.
And I did.
God, I did.
More than I knew I could.
I think when you shut yourself off to the possibility for long enough, you tend to start to believe you aren't capable of having that capacity to love. I had all but resigned myself to a life as a mom, as a caretaker to an ailing mother. I never let myself want more because I didn't think I was able to have it, that anyone would sign up for this shitshow I called a life.
But then there he was.
Nothing like what I thought I wanted.
But, in the end, so, so much more.
"Pasta," I said against his lips as the kiss started to get heated.
To that, Colson chuckled against my lips before pulling back to smile down at me.
"We're saying we love each other for the first time, and you're worried about the macaroni and cheese."
"Hey, you knew what you were getting into with me," I teased, making him laugh.
"I sure did," he agreed, stirring the pasta then reaching for another pan from the cabinet.
"What are you doing?"
"Babe," he said, shaking his head. "There's no way you are going to be happy with just mac and cheese. I'm making some grilled cheese sandwiches too."
"Oh, you really do love me," I said, beaming.
Happy.
That was the bubbling sensation in my chest.
Happiness.
Little champagne bubbles of pure joy.
Okay, and maybe a little bit of tequila.
That was another amazing thing about Colson. He came with a whole crew of men and women who pulled me into their family with open arms.
I never even had to ask for help with my mom. Someone was always just showing up.
Jacob was up to his neck in good, wise, interesting people who were helping shape him into the man we all wanted him to be.
I had friends to go out with.
And a man who loved me to come home to.
Who could ask for anything more?
Colson - 3 years
The club, Navesink Bank, that was the story for another day, another brother—or ten.
Let's just say Fallon was right about the new Navesink Bank.
But as for me and Eva, she had a ring on her finger. I had a license hanging out in the backseat of the family SUV. Along with both our welcome packets for our real estate agent who was tickled at the idea of selling two neighboring townhouses as well as dragging us to dozens of houses over the coming weeks and months.
Let's just say that absolutely everyone had an entire list of features they wanted the new forever house to have.
Eva wanted a luxurious master bath and a kitchen that—if it wasn't already—could be turned into a gourmet one with an oversize island and butcher block counter tops. She also demanded a walk-in pantry. For her Cosmic Brownie and popcorn storage, of course.
Jelly wanted a room with her own bathroom because, apparently, she refused to ever share a bathroom with Jacob who spent more time getting ready than she did. Jelly, ideally, also wanted a basement that she could put mirrors and a barre up in.
Jacob also wanted the basement, but he wanted exercise equipment and mats to workout and grapple with his karate friends. He was also holding out hope for an in-ground pool and a yard that would allow us to get a dog.
We needed a room for Eva's mom. And, possibly, with space to have live-in assistance to move in to help with her if or when we had things going on.
As for me, I just wanted enough space for all of us. And somewhere safe. Somewhere we could get a tall fence. Somewhere we could really put down roots.
We'd all been hybrid co-habitating for years now. Neither of us had enough room to have bedrooms for the other's kid in our townhouse, so they kept their rooms, and we all sort of hopped from house to house depending on the day. Dinner at my place, movies at Eva's. We spent a lot of nights at my place since Jelena was younger, and Jacob no longer needed to be watch closely.
It was time we all got a place together, truly became the family we had been for a long time now.
"We need to get married," I told Eva as we pulled up to the school, waiting for Jacob.
"What? Like today?" Eva asked.
I'd been the one who had started throwing out ideas for the wedding. Eva had been the one to shoot them all down, claiming she had no interest in the white dress and the pomp and ceremony of it all. It sounded, as she claimed, "dreadful."
So, we decided to go the courthouse route.
"It's getting late," I said, glancing at the clock on the dash. "But we can try if you want. I don't know if you wanted to plan it, so you can find a dress or something."
"Let's face it, Colson, this look is what you are marrying," she claimed, waving a hand over herself in her jeans and baggy white sweatshirt. "I don't want to set your expectations too high by getting all pretty while we start out lives together," she added, smiling.
"Alright. Let's get married then," I said, smiling back as Jacob opened the back door.
"Guess what, bud?" Eva asked as he climbed in.
"What?"
"We're gonna go get married."
"Well, we will just have to sign her out early, won't we?"
And so that was what we did.
"I can't believe you don't want to at least have flowers," Jelly said, her romantic heart breaking at the idea of Eva not having the same sentimentality as she did about the whole thing.
Jelena was smack dab in the middle of her teens, making heart eyes at young guys who in no way fucking deserved my little girl.
I knew that, some day, when she was forty and not a day younger, she would want a grand wedding of her own with a ton of bridesmaids and a cake and a dress that cost the price of a car.
I would be happy to give her exactly what she wanted.
Just like I was happy to give Eva exactly what she wanted.
Which was a shotgun wedding in a sweatshirt followed by an ice cream cake shared with everyone at the club, this extended family she had settled so comfortably in.
"Here," Eva said, walking down the street toward the courthouse, bending down to snag a couple wild daffodils. "Now I have flowers," she declared, giving Jelena a warm smile as she wrapped her arm around her.
"I could help you plan a real wedding," Jelly insisted. "So everyone can be there."
"This is a real wedding, honey," Eva told her. "And I have the three most important people in my life here with me. That's all that matters."
"Okay, I guess that is kind of romantic too," Jelly relented, leaning her head into Eva's shoulder.
I'd found a lot of reasons to smile the past few years.
Each time I learned something new about Eva.
Each time the kids found more reasons to get along.
Each time I saw Jacob becoming a better and better young man, someone with a bright future with a good head on his shoulders.
Each time he looked to me like a father figure in life even if he had worked to heal the relationship with his biological father as well.
But watching Jelena look to Eva as her mother, yeah, that shit got me every fucking time. It didn't matter how often it happened.
The two of them had become fast friends, often ganging up on me or Jacob—or the both of us. I would come home from the clubhouse to find them cuddled up on the couch watching Jelly's cheesy teen romance shows or movies, eating ice cream out of the tub, or to both of them slaving over an intricate dinner in the kitchen, or spending time with Maeve or doing some little DIY house project to get Eva's place spruced up for the eventual sale.
Eva was who Jelly ran to when her first serious crush dashed her hopes and dreams for a happily-ever-after, crying loudly into her arms as Eva tried her best to convince Jelena that this only left room for an epic love story later in life, and that Devon was probably going to lose all his hair and get a beer belly anyway after college, so she was better off anyway.
I was pretty sure Jelena was waiting for us to officially marry before she started using the "M-word," but I knew it was coming.
As for Jacob, I wasn't his father. I knew the D-word was saved for Rob. And that was okay by me. I was Colson. Sometimes, I was "old man" or "dude" or even, once in a blue moon, "Pops."
I was happy with that.
I knew my role in his life.
And it was an important one.
Even if the label was different.
"Okay. Let's get on with it," Eva said, smiling at me. "I hear there is going to be cake after," she added, wiggling her eyebrows.
So we moved inside, ready for a small, intimate wedding.
Or so we thought.
"Did you really think you were going to get away with it?" Gus asked, shaking her head, clucking her tongue. "We want to see this too."
"We?" I repeated, brow raising, already having a feeling.
"Let's just say, the people here aren't too happy about the crowd we have assembled," Gus said, shrugging. "Come on. Let's get you two cool cats married. Don't worry, West paid off all the people ahead of you, so you can do it today. He's a keeper, that one."
"Gus!" Eva said, mouth falling open.
"What? Oh, shush. They were happy to have the money. They will all get a nice honeymoon with it. Come on. I have a speech prepared and everything."
"Should we be scared?" I asked, wrapping an arm around Eva, falling in step behind Gus.
"Well, it's Gus," Eva said, shrugging. "So, probably."
The whole club didn't show up. There wouldn't have been room. But Gus and West and a few of the others—including Lo, who could never resist a wedding—and Reign, whose disappearance had been a major factor in our relationship, were there.
Jelena had also texted Freddie who gathered up Thad, and come to be witness to our big day as well.
Gus's speech, as predicted, was wildly inappropriate, making Eva put her hands over Jelly's ears more than once, and having Jacob's cheeks going a bit red.
But then things turned more serious as I stood up there with my woman—the woman I never thought I would have in my life—and giving her my future, accepting hers, with our kids standing there as witness, Jelena openly weeping, Jacob casually brushing a manly tear away.
It was one of the highest moments of my life.
Behind Jelena being born.
And Eva telling me she loved me.
"Okay, now that is done," Eva said afterward, wiping the stray tears clinging to her eyelashes away. "Let's go eat some cake!"
Eva - 13 years
The house was strangely quiet these days.
No more Jelena and Jacob arguing over whose turn it was to use the basement gym or what music artist was great or not.
I was pretty sure no one stepped foot in that basement since Jelena went off to college several years before. I still preferred getting my workout in the old-fashioned way.
There was no Gus hanging around or, later, the live-in nurse we'd hired toward the end of my mother's disease and life.
That absence was a pang that never went away, a wound that hadn't healed right.
"What's wrong?" Colson asked, coming up behind me at the French doors as I stared out into our yard, the bright red, orange, and yellow leaves falling from the trees.
"It's so quiet," I told him.
"Hmm," he said, leaning down, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. "We could do something about that," he suggested, arms going around me, hands settling at my waist as the warmth spread through me. "We haven't worked out yet today," he added, his cock pressing into my ass.
"This is true. And I did eat half a box of brownies last night."
"I really care about your health, you know," he agreed, his hand moving upward, slipping under the waistband of my pants and panties, finding my clit.
I had to say, that was one definite perk to having an empty nest.
There was no more waiting until the kids were asleep, no more sneaking off into closets, no more trying to squeeze a quickie in before they got home from school.
Nope, Colson just stripped me bare-ass naked right there in the middle of the living room at ten a.m., dropping down behind me as I spread my legs and arched backward so his tongue could find my clit, work me upward until my legs were shaking before standing up, freeing his cock as he pressed me forward against the door, and fucked me from behind until—as he predicted—the house wasn't quiet anymore.
"God, that never gets old," I decided afterward, leaning back into him, taking a deep breath, breathing in that comforting spicy scent of the cologne I loved. So much so that I might have threatened to drown him in the new cologne he once tried out a couple years back.
"No, it doesn't," Colson agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "Uh oh," he added when we both heard the doors slamming at the same time.
It had been a long time since we had done the "we aren't decent for company" shuffle, and I nearly fell on my face twice while trying to jam my legs back into my pants and suddenly twisted panties.
Colson threw my sweatshirt over my head, waiting for me to ram my hands in the slee
ves before he walked to the front door, pulling it open just before Jacob stabbed the key in the lock.
"Oh hey!" he said, jolting back, eyes going wide.
I was biased, of course, but my son had grown into a handsome man. Tall and strong, gone were the days when he looked like some Tim Burton character—all arms and legs, skinny to the point of being freaky-looking.
He was wearing—as he always was these days—his black Karate Gi.
See, he hadn't exactly had the same aspirations I had for him. Cardiovascular surgery became a nonstarter when I realized he had a pretty strong aversion to blood.
He had, with some firm nudging from both Colson and me as well as his biological father, gone off to college.
But he had studied business, then came right back to Navesink Bank to open his own karate dojo in the old stomping ground of the Third Street gang.
They'd never recovered as an organization, but there were always little groups bent on pulling the local at-risk kids into a shady lifestyle.
Jacob, once one of those kids himself, wanted to do something to stop that predatory behavior, teach the kids some discipline and respect, help them grow into men. Like karate had ultimately done for him.
Fallon had been the one to front the money for the dojo. Both because he was a good man once he grew up a bit, and life threw curveball after curveball at him and his organization, but also because it was in the club's vested interest to continue to branch out to legitimate ventures even as they kept their one-percent legacy going.
"We didn't know you were stopping by," I said, smiling at him as I walked up under Colson's arm to smile at our son.
"We weren't planning on it," Jacob said, moving to the side so Layne, his girl of four years, moved to stand next to him.
I knew it the moment I saw her.
The watery, wonder-filled eyes.
The kind of green tint to her skin.
But the massive smile on her face.
"Come in," I invited, rushing them into the kitchen, fussing over them in a way that had Colson—who clearly wasn't as in-the-know as I was—looked at me with pinched-together brows. "Okay, out with it," I demanded, practically bouncing at the idea.
Colson (The Henchmen MC Book 20) Page 21
