Spring Romance: NINE Happily Ever Afters

by Tessa Bailey

  I hated losing.

  Dash did too.

  “Did Genevieve text you back?” he asked.

  “Nope.” I dropped my spoon into my cereal bowl. She was beginning to irritate me with her silence.

  Whatever was going on between Isaiah and Genevieve, they weren’t talking. She’d moved into his apartment, and rumor had it, he’d spent a night or two in the motel.

  He’d asked Dash if he could keep his job, apologizing for skipping out without a word. Dash, of course, had cut him some slack and let him stay on because Isaiah was a good guy and a good mechanic. I’d hoped that Dash would have more luck with Isaiah than I had with Genevieve, but Isaiah was arguably worse when it came to opening up. He came to the garage every day, worked hard with as few words as possible, then left as soon as his shift was over.

  Meanwhile, Genevieve was gone each morning when we got to the garage and didn’t return until after we’d left for the evening. She also wasn’t returning my calls or my texts.

  I’d wear her down eventually. They couldn’t keep their secret forever, could they? At some point, they’d have to tell us what had happened on that mountain, right?

  But for today, I was pushing it from my mind.

  I finished my cereal, then turned my gaze to the enormous bay window that overlooked Dash’s backyard. The sun was shining. The grass was green. Under a bright blue sky, it was a peaceful corner of the world.

  Dash had a sprawling deck with his hot tub off to one side. The lawn was wide and deep with a tall privacy fence to keep it cozy, even though he didn’t have neighbors. An open field sat behind his yard. There was a small creek flowing through the middle and one lush grove of trees.

  “How many acres do you own?” I asked Dash.

  “Twenty. I wanted some space from the neighbors.”

  It was secluded but not remote. Close to town for convenience but away from the bustle. “Did you buy this house? Or have it built?”

  “Had it built about three years ago.”

  I stood from the table, taking my bowl to the kitchen sink, then slowly wandered down the hallway that ran in the opposite direction from his bedroom. I’d explored some while I’d been here, but today I wanted more than a superficial glance to get my bearings.

  The hallways were wide, the doors clean and white. The floors were a dark wood with rugs in a few rooms to soften them up.

  “It’s very . . . stylish,” I told Dash as I walked, him trailing close behind. “Not what I would have expected from you.”

  “I shelled out a fucking fortune to get a designer in here to make it stylish. Mostly, I wanted nice shit that would last and was comfortable. Some of the stuff she picked I had to veto, but otherwise, it turned out just right.” He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

  I traced my fingers along a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. It was the one tattoo I hadn’t asked about yet, a date blocked in black letters. “What’s this tattoo?”

  “Mom’s birthday. It was my first tattoo. Got it when I turned eighteen. I celebrate on that day every year. Make a chocolate cake. Candles.”

  “I bet she’d love that.”

  “Yeah.” He pressed his cheek to the top of my head. “Glad you’re here.”

  “Me too. I like your house.”

  “Good.” He hugged me tighter, then let me go to turn me around. “Come check this out.”

  We turned and retreated down the hallway, making our way toward his bedroom on the opposite end of the house. But instead of turning into his room like I’d expected, he opened a door to the office across the hall.

  The desk in the corner was empty, nothing like the mess he had at the garage. The window on the side faced the front of the house. Outside the window was a bush full of white blooms.

  Dash walked into the middle of the room. “How about this for a nursery?”

  “Uh . . .” A nursery? Did I hear that right? I’d expected him to offer this room up for work, not a room for the baby.

  We hadn’t talked about the baby all week. I hadn’t wanted to push it. I’d wanted to give him—both of us—some time for the concept to really sink deep. We had months to discuss a nursery. We didn’t even know if we were having a boy or girl yet.

  “I’ll move the desk and stuff to one of the spare rooms. Or downstairs. I don’t use it much anyway. We can get a crib or bassinette or whatever you want. It’s right across the hall from our room. And—”

  “Wait.” I put a hand on the wall as the room began to spin. “Nursery? Our room? You want me to live here?”

  “We’re having a kid.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t dictate we move in together.”

  “Then how about you move in because I love you.”

  Seriously, my ears were not working right today. “You love me?”

  “More every day.” He came over and took my face in his hands. “Think how crazy I’ll be about you when we’re ninety.”

  A laugh escaped my lips. “Insane. I love you too.”

  “Good. That’ll make it easier to be your roommate.”

  I smiled wider. “We’re really doing this? Living together? Having a baby?”

  “We’re really doing this. Living together. Having a baby. Getting married.”

  “Married? Who are you and what have you done with Kingston Slater?” I’d gone to bed with Dash, a badass playboy, and woken up with a romantic. “Did you hit your head with a wrench yesterday? You’re aware that you’re asking me to marry you, right?”

  “Well, yeah. You said you wanted to have a baby when you were married and settled. Way I see it, we’ve got about seven months to make that happen. Might as well get to it.”

  Oh. My heart sank. Dash wasn’t doing this because he wanted to. He was doing it for me. “Dash, I appreciate it. But I don’t want to get married because you feel like it’s what I want.”

  “Then how about because it’s what I want.” His voice was low, smooth and silky. “Trust me, babe. I want to do this with you. Every day. Here until the end.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s the best idea I’ve had in my life.”

  “Do you think we’ll kill each other?”

  “Probably.” He dropped a kiss to my lips. “Is that a yes?”

  I hesitated, making him sweat for it before I rescued him. “Yes.”

  “Hell yes.” Dash tipped his head back and laughed. Then his hands fell from my face to wrap me in a hug. I giggled, clinging to him as he picked me up off my feet and spun me around the room.

  For so long I’d wanted this. Never would I have imagined I’d find it, a home—love—with the man I’d set out to expose. The enemy. A criminal who’d stolen my heart.

  All the foolish days and nights I’d spent wondering if I’d end up an old maid had been for nothing. The timing simply hadn’t come together.

  I’d been waiting for my Gypsy King.

  “What about the baby?” I asked. “You didn’t want kids.”

  Dash’s smile softened but didn’t disappear. “I’m scared. Never saw myself with a kid, but if there is anyone in the world I’d want to raise a baby with, it’s you. Just keep me from fucking it up, okay?”

  Oh, Dash. Why hadn’t I realized this before? He wasn’t scared of kids. He was scared of ruining his own. Again, timing was not on our side. Draven’s drama had probably reinforced Dash’s fears.

  “I have faith in you. Blinding, unwavering faith. You’ll be an amazing dad, Dash.”

  He dropped his forehead to mine. “Come on. I want to show you something else.”

  Dash took my hand and led me out of the office. We walked past his bedroom and through the living room, then around the kitchen and down another spacious hallway.

  “This is a family house,” I said. “If you didn’t want a family, why build such a big house?”

  He shrugged. “For the space. Not to feel crowded. I spent a lot of nights at the clubhouse and I lived above the garage for a while. When I
was finally ready to buy, I wanted space. A home gym so I didn’t have to go to town in the morning. An office. A theater room in the basement. Couldn’t find anything to buy so I had it built instead.”

  “A sanctuary.”

  “Yeah, but there’s one thing I hate about it out here.” He shot me a heart-stopping smile over his shoulder. “It’s too quiet. Figure you and our baby can fix that for me.”

  I laughed. Given his or her parents, there was no doubt our child would be loud and bold. “We’ll do our best.”

  “Appreciated.” Dash led me to the garage. He let go of my hand as he walked to the large, green gun safe on the far wall, spinning the combination on the dial until the door clicked open.

  “Holy shit.” My eyes widened at the small arsenal. “I guess we’ll be safe after the apocalypse.”

  He took out a white envelope and shut the safe. The flap on the envelope wasn’t sealed and he flipped it open, pulling out something from the corner.

  No, not something.

  A ring.

  “This was Mom’s.” He held the ring in one hand as he reached for my left.

  “It’s beautiful.” The gold band was thin and delicate because the solitaire in the center was the showpiece. It was a square-cut diamond—simple and flawless. The entire piece was classic, something I would have picked for myself.

  “Dad gave this to me a few years ago. He’d bought it for her on their tenth wedding anniversary but she didn’t wear it much. She preferred the chip he’d bought her when they were just two dirt-poor kids. He buried her with that one. Gave this to me since Nick was already married. Told me one day, I could give this to my old lady.”

  I was dumbfounded. I’d asked for a morning to rest and he’d changed the rules. But even in my shock, I hadn’t missed those last two words.

  “How about you never call me an old lady again?”

  Dash laughed, the rich sound filling the garage. “Want me to get down on a knee? Do this right?”

  “No.” I smiled up at him, wiggling my finger so he’d slide the ring into place. I didn’t need the bended knee, the fancy words. “You already nailed it.”

  The moment the ring was settled onto my finger, Dash swooped down and captured me in a kiss. His tongue dove inside, demanding and delicious. Standing in a garage, the cement floor cool on my bare feet, we kissed until the heat was too much to stand. Then Dash scooped me up and carried me inside to his bed.

  Our bed.

  I’d admit, it was better than mine. The sweatshirt was stripped off. My panties dragged down my bare legs. Dash’s jeans quickly disappeared along with the white T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest.

  We moved together, my hips cradling his, like lovers who’d been together for years, not weeks. We came together, him bare and pulsing inside me, our hands linked and our mouths fused.

  Together.

  “I love you,” I whispered into his ear as we clung to one another.

  “Love you, baby.” He leaned away, sweeping the hair from my forehead, and grinned. “Damn, but this life is going to be fun. And I promise, I’ll do right by you.”

  He’d be the best husband and father I could have ever dreamed possible.

  “You will.” I smiled. “And you’re right. This is going to be fun.”

  Epilogue

  Dash

  One year later . . .

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Hi.” Bryce smiled as she came into the living room, dropping her purse onto the couch before stealing Xander from my arms. She peppered his cheeks and forehead with kisses. “How’s my guy?”

  “He’s good.” I laced my hands behind my head. “Just slugged down eight ounces and had a hell of a burp.”

  “He’s such a chunk.” She smiled at our son, who was nearly comatose. “I love it.”

  Xander Lane Slater was four months old and his legs were fat roll upon fat roll. He had a pretty awesome double chin going too. We took extra care cleaning it during his nightly bath so it didn’t smell like rotten formula.

  I stood from my chair, going for her purse and the newspaper tucked inside. “How’d this morning go?”

  “Perfect. Papers are out for delivery.” She settled into the chair I’d vacated, rocking back and forth slightly. Xander would be out cold in thirty seconds or less.

  Exactly as I’d planned. He was going in his crib and Bryce and I were going to have some fun in the bedroom.

  But first, I had to read the paper.

  I plopped down on the couch, opening the fold to read the front page. I’d never get sick of seeing my wife’s name in print. It was a sense of pride I hoped would never fade.

  Bryce had confessed not long after we’d gotten together that a part of her had felt like a failure when she’d moved to Clifton Forge. She’d had dreams of making it big, being the next nightly news anchor—not exactly the same as running a small-town paper. But then she’d realized that here, writing stories about our town and its people, was where she was meant to be. She reported on the good stuff that happened in Clifton Forge and occasionally the bad.

  She’d embraced the birth and wedding announcements, even writing our own. We’d gotten married surrounded by our families and closest friends at dusk, along the bank of the river. Then we’d had a damn fine party at The Betsy—her idea, not mine. Her only request was that they scour the bathrooms first.

  We’d gotten married a month after I’d proposed so she hadn’t been showing. That was her only real request. She wanted to hurry things along.

  Nick stood for me as best man. And Genevieve stood for Bryce.

  I liked to think maybe Mom had a hand in Nick and me finding our wives. That wherever she was, she was looking down on her sons and had sent them the women they needed.

  Including my sister.

  “Did you take a copy to Genevieve?” I asked as I scanned the article on the front page.

  “Yep.”

  “How’d she take it?”

  “She cried,” Bryce said, dropping her voice. Xander was completely zonked. “But she needed that closure. I think she’s happy with how it turned out.”

  In today’s paper, Bryce had written a memorial article for Amina, one she’d had drafted for over a year. Bryce had been ready to publish it weeks after Genevieve had moved to Clifton Forge, but my sister had asked her to delay it countless times.

  She hadn’t been ready to read that final farewell. After everything that had happened to us this past year, I didn’t blame her.

  I was proud that she’d finally found the courage to let it happen.

  “Great piece, babe.” I folded up the paper.

  “Thanks. Though you should be congratulating yourself too. You practically read the whole thing while hovering over my shoulder as I wrote it.”

  “I don’t hover.”

  Bryce rolled her eyes. “And I don’t leave the laundry for you to fold.”

  Maybe I hovered.

  In the past year, I’d kept a constant eye on Bryce. It was rare she went anywhere alone, and even then, I had someone watching. Today, that person was Lane. Bryce hadn’t complained, not once all year, because she knew I needed it. I needed to make sure she was safe and she gave me that. But she needed freedom. To live without watching me worry myself in circles.

  I’d be the first to admit that after Xander was born, I’d gone a little crazy with security. The system I’d installed at home was better than the one Emmett had put in at the clubhouse.

  But I wasn’t taking any chances with my family, not after the losses I’d suffered.

  Maybe I’d loosen up eventually.

  Maybe not.

  I was taking things one day at a time, doing my best to become a decent dad. Bryce told me constantly I was good with Xander, but the fuck-ups were coming. I’d do something wrong and take a misstep here or there.

  But what I could do was protect what was mine. I’d failed once when Bryce had been kidnapped. That had been the first and the last time.


  “He’s out.” Bryce pushed herself up from the chair, nodding for me to follow her to the nursery.

  I grinned, walking close behind her down the hallway. At the door to Xander’s room, I placed my hands on her shoulders, bending down to drop a kiss on the bare skin of her neck. She’d worn her hair up in a ponytail today. Xander had just started to grab at things and her hair was his favorite thing to pull.

  Maybe I’d wrap it around my fist too.

  When she smiled over her shoulder, the blood rushed to my cock. We’d been working hard to make up for those six weeks postpartum when her body had been off-limits.

  Bryce took Xander to the nursery, laying him in his crib. His arms immediately went above his head. Then she turned on his sound machine, the gentle sway of ocean waves filling the room. She tiptoed out, quietly closing the door.

  I captured her hand, giving it a tug for the bedroom, but she stopped me.

  “Wait. I need to ask you something.”

  “What’s up?” My eyes scanned her from head to toe, making sure nothing was wrong. “You okay?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “How would you feel about more kids?”

  “Uh . . .” A deep conversation about our family wasn’t exactly what I’d planned to have during naptime, but the question was out there now. How would I feel?

  Having Xander was amazing. Even as a baby who ate and slept his way through the day, he was a blast. And when he got older, we could do stuff together like play ball in the yard or build a tree house or build a go-cart to race like the ones I did as a kid. That would be incredible.

  “Good,” I said, surprising us both. “Real good.”

  “Phew.” Her frame relaxed and her smile was wide. “Great. I’m pregnant.”

  “Say what?” I stuck a finger in my ear, clearing it out. “You’re pregnant? Already?”

  “According to the tests I took this morning, yep. I mean, I stopped breastfeeding and didn’t get on the pill. I have the pack to start next week but I didn’t think it could happen so soon.”

  Pregnant. Was I still scared? Definitely. But this time around, I wasn’t going to let the shock of her announcement chase me away. So I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in her hair. “Love you.”