by Ella James
"What did you call your dad?"
"Dad."
"So you want to avoid the dad?" I ask him.
"Maybe." He stands up, chewing his lip, and I stand with him, kissing his cheek.
"What if I was Papa?” I say, bumping shoulders since my hands are holding Baby. “And you're Daddy. Since I have no memories associated with that word at all," I add.
Luke’s eyes soften. "That's not what I meant,” he starts.
I swallow quickly. "I would like that. If you would." I laugh—because this is so damn weird.
"You can take papa instead,” he offers. “If you like it better."
"Nah. I want to call you Big Papa." I grin, and Luke pushes his hands into his pockets.
"What if I'm not...the way a Daddy should be?" I ask as my throat knots unexpectedly.
"You are, Rayne. C'mon." He runs a hand over my hair again. "You're everything that anyone should be."
"So are you, McD. And more." We hug with the baby in between us, and she makes a funny sound, waving her arms as if she knows she's become the PB&J between two pieces of dad bread.
I kiss his temple. "Looking fine this morning, Papa."
"Looking hot in those plaid pants, Daddy."
"What if she shortens it and just calls me Dad?"
"I like it.” His eyes hold mine, and they’re so gentle. I’m hit by a wave of gratitude, that we’re married, and Sky babe loves me like I love him.
I shift Baby in my arms, lifting her up a little, and when I do— "Oh damn, Sky, I just smelled it!"
"Baby smell?" He steps closer. "I want to smell it." He bows his head, and I lift her up toward him.
“Wow,” he breathes. “That is a smell. Smells a bit like baby powder.”
“I know, right?” I murmur.
"Almost hate to cook around her. Make her smell like breakfast food." He chuckles.
I bounce her and step around him while we talk about his mother and the dinner that she wants us to have at her house tonight. When I look down again, I realize that the baby is asleep.
17
Luke
I ride to work alone, on this of all days. Vance can't come with given that we don't have childcare set up. I'm not even sure he wants to. Maybe it's better this way. The more I think about it, the more I realize how much tension I feel with him in the building. It's probably something that I need to talk to Derek about—trying to be the perfect pastor for Evermore and the perfect husband to Rayne.
I grin as I hang a right at an intersection. Yeah, that's right. Vance Rayne is my husband. I get a funny feeling in my stomach as it really hits me. We got married last night. Flew to Vegas, tied the knot, and I’m a married man. Forever.
I don’t care what anybody says—I think it’ll be good for my pastor image. It'll look as if I waited until I found Mr. Right, Mr. Commitment-Worthy, to come out. Which...I guess I did. And then I married him as soon as I could.
I grin again, looking at my shiny ring. Finally made it as a family man. I visualize my dad and almost get choked up thinking of what he'd say. Then I realize I should probably call my mom soon. Before she gets online and sees a photo someone snapped last night. I’m sure they’re already up on tabloid sites, but so what? What did we do that was so wrong? Danced a little?
I can't wipe the stupid smile off my face as I drive in the direction of the church’s campus. Then, instead of calling Mom, my dialing finger goes for Rayne.
I can hear him smiling as he answers. "Hey, man. Long time, no talk."
"I know, right?” I’m cheesing so hard my cheeks ache. “Forgetting the sound of your voice. Had to hear it again for a minute."
The baby cries, and a low chuckle slips from my throat. "Gotten higher-pitched. What are you doing over there?"
He's still smiling as he says, "This one, she's rowdy. She doesn't like it when I talk to somebody else, do you Little Missy?"
"Hey, I have a name now, Daddy."
"Yes you do," he says, to her. "And I like your name. I don't know if I can use it, though. I'm not big on names. You're gonna end up being Edey or Cupcake or something."
"Edey?" I screw my face up.
"She likes it, don't you, Missy?"
"Maybe she does,” I admit. “I don't hear her now."
"Because she's smiling," he says in a sort of sing-song way that lights my chest up. "I read on my phone that babies can't smile yet, but ours can. I'm just gonna put you up on my shoulder,” V says to her. “Not the hurt one. And I'm gonna hold your head and let you look around while I walk. Okay, I'm back," he says in his normal voice to me.
"You're great with her," I manage through my tight throat.
"So are you, Big Papa."
My eyes sting as I brake for a light. "Do you think your mom and my dad are losing it up there? We got married and had a kid in less than twelve hours."
He laughs. "Probably so, Sky. But I think my mom would be happy."
"I think my dad would be, too. If he could get past being worried."
"You gonna call your mom soon?"
"Yeah, I need to. I just wanted you first."
"Feel a little lonely driving in alone with that ball and chain on your finger?"
I smile. "I love looking at it. Sort of looking forward to showing it off."
"Sort of?" He feigns offense then adds, in his husky voice, "Just teasing. I know you, my McD. For somebody who shares so much, you run on the shy side about things that really matter."
"Yeah," I manage. "Close to the vest."
"Maybe we should bring her over to meet your mom. Like, tonight. You think that would be too much?"
I chuckle. "I don't know. It might be. But...she'll need to find out. Why not in person? Let's go over after I get off. Should be around five, but I could make it four, I think. I don't have a scheduled meeting past 3:15."
"You sure?" Rayne asks.
"Yeah. I think she might be happy. Who doesn't love a baby?"
"No one." I can tell Rayne’s smiling. Eden cries again, and I say, "I can let you go. You sure you don't need anything? Some kind of assistant to come over? Mix the bottles?"
"Nah, I got this. We'll come by the office at noon if you want. Maybe we could bring some lunch."
My stomach flips, but I say, "Do it."
"You sure?" He can read my mind, I swear.
"Yeah. I'd love to see both of you. Have that ass ready. We can pass her off to Pearl for just a bit and I'll have at that in my office."
"Whatever you say, Papa."
That makes me laugh. Which is good because as soon as I spot the church campus, I realize it's crawling with news vans.
Vance
I don't know anything is going on until Brianna, Luke’s housekeeper, comes in through the garage/hall door. Cupcake and I are in the kitchen checking out the shiny appliances when Bri pulls her coat off, giving me a wide-eyed look as she hangs it on the hall rack.
I’m about to ask what’s up when she says, "You know about the vehicles?"
"Which ones?"
She motions over her head, and in her pretty, Madrid accent, she says, "Two of them have...antennae. And logos like news organizations."
My stomach drops so hard that I feel almost dizzy. Tightening my grip on little Edey, I walk into the sitting room that’s right by the front door, peek out the blinds, and literally see a flash go off.
"Well, fuckballs."
I jump as Bri speaks from right behind me: "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news."
"No, it's okay." It is definitely not okay.
Still bouncing the baby, I go back to my phone and Google "Pastor Luke." Just see what the wider media is saying…
Pastor Luke Hitched in Surprise Vegas Wedding
Pastor Marries New York Artist in Quickie Wedding
Influencer Kingpin "Pastor Luke" Shows His Rainbow
Legendary Pastor McDowell Marries Man
Okay, so I guess our story has been picked up by more than just the tabloids. I should have dug
deeper earlier, so I’d have known. I scroll a little more, and what I see makes my lungs lock up.
Recently Outed Pastor Married — With Love Child?
I click the headline with a shaking finger.
"Pastor Luke" McDowell and his artist partner Vance Rayne, whose act of valor—pushing McDowell out of the way of a speeding car—put both men in the headlines less than two months ago, were wed in Vegas last night, according to witnesses who photographed the controversial couple's hasty nuptials and spoke with them after the event.
There are few scenes more unexpected than the newly-outed pastor of America's largest megachurch marrying a man in a chapel on the Vegas strip. But McDowell and Rayne are no strangers to controversy. Court papers filed late yesterday afternoon in San Francisco County reveal Zara Stephens has requested paternity testing to discern whether Rayne or McDowell is the father of a female infant.
Speaking with The Post this morning, Stephens says, "The worst thing is not knowing. I was with both men on the same night. I knew I was going to carry their baby as a surrogate, but I wanted to know which man was the father of the baby, and I wanted some time to visit with the baby after she was born.
“Pastor McDowell refused to give me that. If I'm to give up my child, and I am okay with doing that, I just want to know which man fathered her. And I want to be compensated fairly for this pregnancy. It was not easy on my body or mind."
I turn the phone off and walk toward the bedroom, not noticing until I'm almost there that Eden is starting to cry like she wants milk.
Fuck.
I can barely even make a bottle. My damn hands are shaking so bad. As soon as I sit in an armchair near the fireplace, the phone rings, and I drop the bottle while shifting Eden onto one arm and trying to answer.
“Fuck.” I cringe at my shitty language as I scoop the thing up, giving the tip to Eden as I answer Sky’s call.
"Rayne?" His voice is a soft growl.
"I saw. There are news vans outside your house."
"Our house."
"Our house," I murmur.
"Dammit."
I shut my eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out together.”
"I should have known we shouldn't take the baby,” Luke says. “That it was too screwy. And getting married in Vegas—"
"Was incredible,” I interrupt. “Let's never feel bad about our wedding that made us 'legal.' All this other shit? We'll figure it out."
"What is there to figure out? It's extortion, plain and simple. She wants money,” Luke says.
"You think that's her goal? To get paid for being our supposed surrogate?"
I hear him blow a breath out. "I don't know. When she talked to The Post she said a lot about how we had promised to pay her but didn't. I can't tell if smearing me is an intentional part of this, or if who I am just paved the way for what she thought was a good story. My lawyer is reaching out to her within the hour. Hoping to get her saying something that's incriminating."
My throat lumps up as I glance down at Eden. "What if she promises to go away as long as we pay her?"
I'm not going to spell my thoughts out, but he knows what I'm asking. He doesn't answer, and I try to brace myself for him to say he doesn't need the complication. Instead he says, "What do you think?"
"Me?"
He chuckles. "Vanny, Vanny… Can the baby talk?"
I note he didn't call her by the name we gave her.
"Do you think it’s crazy I still kind of want to keep her, McD?"
He lets out a long breath. "No," he whispers. His voice is rough when he says, "I want her, too. I don't even know why. I guess it feels so good to have a family with you."
I hold baby a little closer. “It feels good to me, too.”
She feels good. I look down at her. Such a sweet little bundle. To think of anyone using her as a paycheck… I smile at her pretty little face, so she doesn’t know the thoughts I’m having about her birth mom. But—fuck me—I don’t know how I could stand to give her up now that we’ve had her—even for just one night.
“I’m only worried about it hurting you,” I tell Sky. “I want her, but I want to be sure you’re happy. Like, really happy. I don’t want a hit on your reputation if you want to avoid that.”
"I’m happy, Vanny. We've waited for each other for years. Wanted each other. Thought about this. You were how I put myself to sleep for a long time before Pearl hired you for the mural."
"What do you mean?" I ask softly. I love all these details, even though they make me sad.
Sky doesn't answer for a second. "When I couldn't get to sleep, I would just think about you. Think back to your arms around me. How it felt to have your head tucked under my chin...the way you'd kiss my throat and forehead and under my ear. Even how you lay against me. You hold nothing back, Rayne. You give every part of yourself, and you're patient and good." I think I hear his voice catch. "You give me more than I deserve."
"That's just bullshit. It’s not true, and also, deserve's a shit concept. You know I love you because that's the only thing I can do." I peer down at the baby, who blinks up at me as she sucks lazily on her bottle, her eyelids sagging like she might drift off. "Same way I looked at this baby here and felt like we just knew her. When Carrie first took her, I felt sick. Like I had let go of something I should have held onto a little tighter."
"If she really is supposed to be ours, I'm not surprised you felt that way."
"My mom used to say I'm witchy." I smile at the memory.
"In the church, sometimes it's called discernment. Or maybe prophecy, if you want to get evangelical about it."
"I don't know if I do. Do I?"
He chuckles. "I'm pleading the fifth on matters of denominational philosophy."
"I don't know what the word denominational means, so plead away, sweetheart."
"Sweetheart." It's a raspy whisper.
“You are.”
"I don’t know about that." But I can tell he's pleased by the endearment. I make a mental note to use it again.
"I love you." I lean my head against the couch and shut my eyes, holding little Eden closer. "If we can't keep this baby, we'll have another one when the time's right. I say we leave it up to the universe. And just try to stick to the moment. We're a fucking scandal? Oh, I give a shit."
He lets a breath out. "You're right, Rayne." He laughs, soft. "Or are you anymore?"
I grin as I realize he’s right. "I'm McD2. McExtra. Hubby. Mister."
"I might still have to call you Rayne. Force of habit."
"I can still be Rayne for you. It's a middle name now."
He lets out a rough sigh. "I'm so afraid this is about to blow up. I don’t even care about that, though. Not really. I’m ready to start a new church if I have to. Now my only worry is you.”
"What, because this woman said we both had sex with her? I don't give a shit, Sky. Nothing scandalous about that."
"Do you wish we had?"
"What?" I laugh. "No."
"I get scared you'll realize you miss pussy."
"I've thought of nothing but that big dick of yours since the first night I saw it. Wanting to suck it and feel it pushing into me. Wanting to sit down on it, rub it against mine, see it leaking cum as I fuck you from behind. I'm a cockatarian now, baby. Nothing but the D for me."
I'm rewarded with a hearty laugh from Luke.
"Don't you worry yourself about this shit, Sky baby. Worry about whatever stuff the church wants you to worry with. And call me if it gets too much. Even if you don't want me up there, I can tell you I love you."
"I love you so much, Vance Rayne McDowell."
"I love you more. And call your mother so she doesn't think we had a threesome and forgot to pay somebody for making a baby."
Despite the bullshit that’s still swimming around in my head, Eden and I have a nice morning. I don't want to cause a ruckus by taking her out, so I consider having someone get us all the baby thin
gs we need. The problem is, I want to do it. Even if we can’t keep her, I want to do this right—because what if it does work out?
In the end, I forego Luke's preferred method of utilizing a personal shopper and make a good old fashioned online order.
After that, I text Sky, Let me know what your lawyer says.
I walk back into the kitchen, where I find Bri cleaning the stovetop.
“What do you think?” I ask her. “Are we slobs?”
She looks over her shoulder, brown eyes wide with surprise. “No.” She looks shy. “Only normal.”
“We’ve been doing a lot of cooking,” I say. “Lots of eating in.”
I look down at the baby, who’s still sleeping on my chest. “Might be doing even more now.”
“You have had…the baby?” Bri asks, turning around. She looks from Eden to me, and back again, clearly trying to be polite.
“Maybe.” I fake a smile for her. “Maybe temporary. We don’t know yet.”
She gives me a bright smile before she says, "I like you, Mr. Rayne. I think you make the world better for Mr. McDowell. No matter what the television says.”
“I’m Mr. McDowell now, too.”
She covers her face with her hands. "You are now…the other mister?”
I laugh. “Yep. We got married. That’s why all the news trucks are here.”
She absorbs this with a nod. Then her brows draw together. "Before you came, he—Pastor McDowell—he always seemed focused on...how do you say...the next moment? His attention was occupied. And he looked stressed out." She runs her fingertips over her brow. "Now" —she smiles— "he looks relaxed."
"I hope he is. I worry, with the news vans." I gesture to the window.
"Those vans, they went away now. I saw in the security room."
Wow, that's a good idea. I didn't even think about the security room. Sometimes I forget there is one. I walk in there and I find she's right. Steven lifts his head, and says, “I should have told you sooner.”
“No, it’s fine.”
"Thank you for telling me," I tell Bri as I head back toward the bedroom.
