From the Embers

by Aly Martinez

  “Babe,” he whispered, emotion thick in his throat.

  “Secondly,” I continued, “you have been taking care of us. Since day one. And that has not one damn thing to do with who was paying the mortgage. The kids and I would not be here, so damn happy and loved, without you. You have the biggest heart of any man I’ve ever met, and given how many times that thing has been ripped from your chest, that’s saying a lot. I don’t need you to take care of us. I’ll still have Prism. I just won’t be the one running it. But if that’s something you need to do for yourself to finally see all your hard work paying off, I’ll transfer all the bills to your name tonight. I don’t need money, Eason. I need you. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

  “Dammit, Bree. How do you always know exactly what to say?”

  “It’s a little skill I picked up from you. Now, if that was the bad news, tell me the good.”

  The side of his mouth hiked, so much love blazing in his eyes I could feel the tangible heat through the screen of the phone. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Seriously?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve got a week before they have time for me in the studio. So I am coming home to my woman and my kids. I swear I’ve never been so excited in my life.”

  “The kids are going to flip. Let’s make it a surprise.”

  “And what about you? You excited?”

  I teasingly slanted my head. “Why, superstar Eason Maxwell, are you fishing for a compliment?”

  “I don’t need a compliment. I need my kids, and then after they go to bed, I need you in some seriously scandalous lingerie. If I’m going to be gone for a month, we need to spend the entire week filling my head with enough naked memories to get me through.”

  I nodded, biting my bottom lip. “I can do that.”

  And oh my God, I could soooooo do that.

  “Good.” He winked. “I’ll send you my flight details. Now, I have to go before everybody comes back and I’m sitting here hard as a fucking rock. Love you, babe.”

  “Love you too, Eason.”

  EASON

  I had an Uber drop me off at the pool house, and I stashed my bags just inside the door. Armed with a huge stuffed unicorn, a stuffed cat, a plastic Minecraft pickaxe, and a jar containing every red M&M I could find in San Francisco, I snuck around the back of the house. As planned, Bree had the kids outside, drawing on the patio with sidewalk chalk. Just the sight of their three little heads all huddled together caused a wave of contentment to crash over me.

  Bree stood up as I walked through the back gate, her hair blowing in the breeze. As if it were the first time I’d ever seen her and not closer to the millionth, my stomach knotted. Two weeks didn’t seem like a long time, but after living together and spending every day with one another for going on two years, holy shit, I had missed that woman. FaceTime was not cutting it.

  “Hi,” she mouthed, the pure joy on her gorgeous face transferring to my chest.

  I put my finger to my lips in a silent Shh!

  Retrieving her phone from her back pocket, she called, “Hey, kiddos, look at me. Let’s send Eason a picture of our chalk drawings.”

  “Mine’s the best!” Asher exclaimed. “Take a picture of mine.”

  The girls giggled, sword fighting with the chalk, but with the hundreds of pictures Bree had sent me while I’d been gone, they were trained circus animals and lined up for a photo.

  “Say cheese,” Bree directed.

  “Cheese,” they all sang.

  After dropping all the toys and carefully setting Bree’s M&M’s aside so nothing got ruined, I snuck in close, squatted low, and said, “Cheese.”

  After that, it was a chorus of the most beautiful shrieks of my life. Asher’s face was priceless as he spun around, his mouth wide open, his eyes the size of saucers.

  Madison crashed into my arms first, screaming, “Eeeeee-sin!”

  My sweet baby Luna just stood there clapping and cackling, “Daddy home. Daddy home.”

  I was a man. Like the consummate example of pure, unfettered masculinity. Or at least that’s what I told myself when I looked in the mirror. But in truth, I teared up like an onion factory had moved in next door when they all tackled me. Falling back on my ass, I became the happiest guy to ever find himself at the bottom of a dog pile.

  For several minutes, it was chaos, everyone talking at once, a million questions and stories sailing through their lips faster than my ears could process. As much as I loved my kids, I had a certain someone I needed to get my hands on next. Luckily, there was one failproof method of escaping a dog pile, and I had planned ahead.

  “Who wants a surprise?” I asked.

  They were off me in the next heartbeat, hopping and chanting, “Me!”

  After climbing to my feet, I walked over to my pile of goodies. “All right, girls. These might look like normal stuffed animals, but they are so much more. They have babies inside them.” The gasps made those damn creepy toys worth every penny. “And don’t ask me if I peeked because I didn’t. But also don’t ask me how a unicorn became pregnant with a rabbit. Here, Luna, Rainbow Sparkle Twinkle Toes is yours.” I handed her the unicorn, which was roughly the same size as her.

  “Tanks, Daddy!”

  I kissed her on the top of the head, my heart so full that I had no idea how it still fit in my chest. “And, Mads, that means Bootsy Glitter McWhiskers is all yours.” I passed her the cat and I swear her eyes were so wide she looked like I’d handed her the world. She tucked Bootsy under her arm and gave my legs a long hug, expressing her gratitude without words.

  But it was Asher’s exuberant “Yesss!” that made me laugh the hardest. “That means the pickaxe is mine,” he said, hopping around on one foot, pumping his fists. “That’s what I wanted. I wanted the pickaxe.”

  Laughing, I shook my head and bowed, presenting it to him on both hands. “Happy mining, Ash.”

  “Thank you!” He snatched it and took off at a dead sprint to the trees in the side yard, and the girls plopped down at my feet, pulling out unicorn and cat rabbits, oohing and ahhing over each one.

  I had about five minutes before the novelty wore off, so I grabbed the jar of M&M’s and went to properly say hello to my woman.

  She held her hand up to block the sun as I made my way over to her, a grin twitching the side of her mouth. “Is that—”

  I did not let her finish the statement before hooking her around the hips, pulling her against my chest, and planting a long-overdue kiss on her sexy mouth.

  “Mmmmm,” she hummed, circling her arms around my neck.

  “That sounds like you missed me, Sug.”

  She frowned, but it was exactly what I’d been going for, so it’d worked.

  “I haven’t missed you calling me Sug. But maybe I missed you…a little bit. Are those for me?” She dipped her chin at the gallon-size jar with the black metal lid.

  “What, these? Nah, they’re mine. I saved you a Ziploc bag of all the other colors though.”

  She pinched my side.

  “Okay, okay. You can have them. No need to resort to violence.”

  My heart stopped as she took it from my hands. I shouldn’t have been nervous. There was no way Bree would be eating M&M’s before dinner. Not on a good day anyway. But seeing her hold that jar caused a high I never thought I’d feel again.

  “Shit, this thing is heavy,” she said. “Did you really sort through this many M&M’s?” She lifted it to the sun and turned it in her hand. “There must be a thousand in here.”

  I shrugged. “Three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine to be exact. I ate the last one to give it an authentic feel.”

  She laughed and pushed up onto her toes for another kiss. One I did not deny her.

  “Is this to replace all of mine that you stole?”

  I swayed my head from side to side. “More like a down payment. But we’ll get there.”

  Giggling, she face-planted against my pec, and for s
everal minutes, we just stood there, our chests rising and falling in synchronized breaths. We didn’t have to say anything. There were no expectations or pressure. Just having her in my arms was enough for me.

  God, it felt good to be home again.

  “Mom!” Asher yelled. “What’s for dinner?”

  Luna shot to her feet. “I want dinner.”

  “Meeeee toooo,” Madison called.

  And just like that, our quiet little moment was over. But the chaos was just as sweet.

  “All right.” I released Bree and clapped my hands. “We’re going out to dinner and then maybe to an arcade and then the bounce park and anywhere else we can find along the way.”

  The kids cheered like we’d been holding them captive, never letting them see the light of day.

  Bree snapped her fingers. “Everyone needs to clean up the chalk first and put your new toys in your rooms.”

  They leapt into action, swirling around, arguing over who’d had what color chalk first, and I threw my arm around Bree’s shoulders and smiled, enjoying every second.

  She tilted her head back to stare at me, still holding the ridiculous jar of M&M’s and filling my soul with new life. “Eason, you just got home. Are you sure you want to go out? I was going to cook something simple so you could relax. You have to be exhausted from traveling all day.”

  I absolutely was, but I had big plans with Bree that night. “So, here’s what I’m thinking. If we stay here, have a lazy and quiet family night, those three are going to be jazzed by the time bedtime rolls around. We’ll end up spending hours answering questions, giving goodnight kisses, and refilling water cups. Luna isn’t going to want to let me go, so I’ll have to lie down with her. We know from experience, once I get into a horizontal position, there is no coming back for me. I’ll be asleep and the night will be over before it ever got started.”

  I slanted my head the other direction. “Orrrr we go out for hibachi, where the chef cooks in front of us, making them think grilled chicken and broccoli are cool. Then we go to the arcade, let them run themselves ragged while we enter into a not-so-friendly Skee-Ball tournament where the loser owes the winner wicked things with their mouth later on. Then we take the kids to the bounce park, let them jump until their legs give out, and then come home with three exhausted kids who will pass out before we even get them in bed. Leaving us completely alone, for you to make good on the loss you suffered earlier in the evening.” I smirked.

  “Wow. Someone gave this some thought.”

  I lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “What can I say? I had a lot of spare time while separating four thousand red M&M’s.” It was a lie. I’d ordered them online, but that was one secret she didn’t need to know about.

  She let out a loud laugh and shook her head. “Yeah, fine. I missed you more than a little bit.”

  She didn’t have to tell me. I saw it in her eyes every day that I was gone. I heard it in her voice every time she whispered, “I love you.” And I felt it in the way she was still holding me tight, her lithe body sagging in my arms.

  Bree and I tag-teamed getting the kids ready to go. Luna and Madison hung from my legs as we walked up the stairs. Then, while Asher got dressed, he insisted I stand outside the door so he could fill me in on all things Abigail, the girl who made his stomach hurt.

  I loved being in LA and San Francisco. The sun, the energy—there was just something about knowing I was walking the same streets, visiting the same restaurants, and on more than one occasion, running from the same paparazzi as all the legends who had come before me.

  But there was magic in watching the kids clap when the chef made an onion volcano and hearing Bree laugh as I purposely lost Skee-Ball, throwing each ball in the ten-point chute because I had every intention of ending my night with my mouth between her legs. I’d dreamed of a life in the spotlight, but there was immeasurable happiness to be found in cranking up the radio and singing at the top of my lungs in order to keep the kids awake on the drive home.

  My plan to exhaust everyone had worked a little too well, because when I came back into the bedroom after reading the girls a story and locking up the house, Bree had pulled an Eason Maxwell and was sound asleep on her side, the barest hint of black lace showing on her shoulders.

  After the day we’d had, and with finally being home, I couldn’t even be disappointed. I’d let her sleep for a while. Middle-of-the-night sex definitely had its merits.

  As I stood there staring at her, I chuckled at the jar of untouched red M&M’s on her nightstand. I only knew they were untouched because she still hadn’t found the engagement ring inside. She’d get there though.

  Maybe one afternoon while I was in the shower, she’d go for a handful and scream.

  Maybe she’d sneak a few first thing in the morning and I’d wake up to find her staring at me with tears in her eyes.

  Maybe she’d find it next week when I was back in California. A long-distance proposal wasn’t ideal, but the element of surprise she so fiercely hated would definitely be worth the payoff.

  Was it too soon? By most people’s standards, probably. But not for me. I’d found her. The one. There were no nerves or fears. No second-guessing or cold feet. I knew down to the marrow of my bones that Bree had been born to be mine. Our bond might have been forged through tragedy, but our love flourished through patience, genuine respect, and understanding.

  Life was never easy, and ours had been harder than most. However ugly it might have been at times, there was beauty to be found when looking back at all the pain and heartache and devastation, knowing we’d come out the other end better off and more in love than I had ever known possible.

  So, as I fell asleep in bed with her that night, a smile on my face, love in my chest, contentment coursing through my veins, I had no idea our greatest trials were yet to come.

  “Mom!” Asher screamed, his terror palpable as he came racing into the bedroom.

  I jolted upright, and so did Bree, just as fast, beside me. Throwing the covers back, I jumped out of bed; three long strides carried me to him.

  He launched himself into my arms the second I got close enough. His whole body was shaking head to toe.

  “What’s wrong?” On instinct, I set him on the bed and frantically began patting him down, searching for injury. It was the only explanation my sleep-fogged brain could come up with.

  Bree flipped the light on then sidled up beside us, giving him a once-over, both of us coming up empty for anything physical that could explain his hysterics. Palming either side of his ghostly white face, Bree squatted in front of him. “Breathe, buddy. It’s okay. Mommy’s right here. Everything’s okay. Did you have a nightmare?”

  He shook his head, fat tears continuously flowing from his terrified eyes.

  In the distance, I heard Madison start crying, the chaos clearly waking her up too. My heart already started to slow, my brain coming to terms that there was no immediate danger my adrenal system needed to handle.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I looked at Bree. “You deal with this. I’ll take care of the girls.”

  “You can’t!” Asher yelled. “He took her! He took her!”

  “Who?” Bree asked.

  In his next breath, my whole world stopped.

  “Luna! Daddy took her!”

  “Asher, baby,” Bree soothed. “That’s not possible. Luna’s daddy’s right here.”

  In the middle of tragedy, it’s strange the things that become engrained into your memories.

  I remembered when it struck me that only Madison was crying in the background.

  I remembered busting into the room to find Luna’s bed empty.

  I remembered the frantic search as I yelled for Bree, my heart still clinging to hope that Luna had just gotten out of bed and gone downstairs.

  But carved into my soul for the rest of my days would be the earth-shattering sound of Asher shouting, “Not her daddy! My daddy!”

  BREE

  “Find her!” Ea
son roared at gray-haired Detective Hoffman while at least a half dozen police officers roamed our house.

  “Mr. Maxwell, I assure you we have a team of officers on this. If she’s out there—”

  “Don’t say if,” he snapped. “Don’t you dare fucking say if. This is my daughter we’re talking about. We know she’s out there. Now, do your goddamn job and bring her home.”

  It was only ten in the morning, but it had already been the hardest day of my life.

  An endless symphony played in our heads.

  Where was she?

  Was she safe?

  Was she scared?

  Or my biggest fear: Was it already too late?

  For over six hours, Eason and I had been in a constant state of panic. Time passed, seconds felt like hours. Much like the stages of grief, the emotional process of finding out someone had kidnapped your child while she’d slept soundly under your roof just yards away from your bedroom door started with denial.

  It felt impossible to believe someone had taken her—Asher’s claims of it being Rob who’d done it were even wilder.

  Regardless, Eason had taken off out the unlocked back door, sprinted around the house, and searched the surrounding areas while I’d called the police. As we waited for them to arrive, Eason had been rabid, racing around, calling her name. With both Asher and Madison crying, I towed them around with me for fear of letting them out of my sight. The pool had been my first stop. As terrified as I was to find our sweet baby in the water, the fear amplified by not finding her at all.

  While outside, I noticed that the door to the pool house was cracked. The relief made my head spin as I sprinted over, hoping she’d just woken up disoriented and gone looking for her dad. Eason met me out there, his brain following the same path as mine.

  There were so many factors we hadn’t even considered in those first few minutes of looking for her.

  How could she have gotten through the baby gate at the top of the stairs?