by Tessa Teevan
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re the one who took the step. I just gave you a little nudge. Not to mention, we never would’ve met if Cohen hadn’t gotten involved. He deserves some credit, too.”
“Never been so grateful for prying little asshole brothers.”
Charlie grins. “I’ll make sure to tell him you said that. And yes, Knox. I think it’s amazing what you suggested.”
“Then it’s settled?”
“It’s settled.”
It takes everything in me not to scoop her up, toss her onto the bed, and show her my endless gratitude. Since I already told my little brown-haired spitfire she’s about to have fun with her cousins, it’s only a matter of time before she bursts back into the room.
“If I’d have known getting blown up by an IED would bring you into my life, I’d have done it the first day I got to Afghanistan.”
She playfully pushes my shoulder then gazes up at me. “I’m glad it brought us together, but can you not put those images in my mind? If anything ever happened to you…” she trails off.
“Don’t think about that. Five years and I’m out. And things have died down over there, so I’ll probably be spending these five years training here. Hell, now that I’ve ranked up, I’m buried under paperwork anyway. I haven’t seen the field in months.”
“And it’s killing you.”
I contemplate it for a moment. “No, sweetheart. There was a time when I thought I’d never want to sit behind a desk. I wanted action, a fast pace, the danger. But that was before I had something to live for. Now I have you, the twins, and my family. If doing paperwork all day brings me home to you every night, then it’s the perfect job for me.”
Charlie uses a finger to wipe the corner of her eyes. “You are the best man I’ve ever known.”
I grin down at my gorgeous wife. “Pretty sure Wade might have something to say about that.”
She loops her arms around my neck, her whisky eyes staring up at me. “Dad knows when he gave you my hand, he was also giving up that first-place position. But he’s a really, really close second.”
It’s been two months since Dad came home from the hospital. Mom’s driving him crazy with healthy meals, ensuring he goes on walks every day and is getting the proper amount of sleep—according to her. She hasn’t let him step foot in the office. According to Branson, he’s fielding about twelve calls a day. Dad’s even set up a Skype account to try to catch Bran while at the office. Knowing Dad’s going stir-crazy and driving Branson up a wall, Ariana talked Mom into having a party at the house now that Dad’s been given the all-clear by his doctor to get back to regularly scheduled activity. Of course, Mom had to consult Cohen, who insisted it’s exactly what Dad needs right now. What better medicine than celebrating life with family and friends?
I get Mom’s hesitation. Her husband collapsed at the last family celebration. She’s afraid of history repeating itself. Hell, if the same thing had happened with me and Charlie, my woman wouldn’t be leaving the house for the better part of a year. Then again, knowing Charlie, she’d just sneak out when I wasn’t looking. And then I’d have to spank her.
Hmm. There’s a thought.
Bran nudges my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. “I know that look, bro. You just got here. There’s no way Mom’s letting you haul your wife out of this party so soon after you’ve arrived. Might as well get your mind out of the gutter.”
I turn to him. “How can you tell what I’m thinking?”
“I’m your older brother. I probably have the same thoughts.” He hands me a scotch.
I take a sip before replying. “Spanking.”
“Yeah. We both fall from the same tree. That’s for sure.”
“What about me?” Cohen asks as he comes up behind us.
Bran and I share a grin before I tuck Cohen into a playful headlock. “I have a feeling Andi’s the one who does the spanking.”
Cohen wrestles out from under my arm. He straightens his jacket, his eyes full of mischief. “It’s an equal opportunity marriage. What’s good for me is good for her.”
Branson nearly chokes on his whisky. “I really didn’t need to know that.”
“Come on, guys. Be progressive. Plus, give a woman some power in the bedroom and she turns into a friggin’ tiger. When Andi—”
“When Andi what?”
Cohen’s fiery redhead of a wife with a personality to match just so happens to catch him before he sticks his foot in his mouth.
My little bro looks back and forth between us and his wife. “Uh…” He recovers, slipping an arm around her waist, “I was just saying that when you get back from the tour with Chris and Second Star, I’m going to try to get some time off from the hospital so we can finally take our long-overdue honeymoon.”
Andi’s cheeks curl up even as she rolls her eyes. “It’s only been three years since we got married.”
Cohen leans back and gives us a thumbs-up from behind Andi’s back. Bran and I struggle to keep it together. When Charlie calls Andi over, Cohen sighs with relief.
“Nice save, Coh,” Branson says with a laugh.
“Actually, yeah, quick thinking on your feet,” I add.
“You weren’t kidding,” Branson continues. “She really does have all the control.”
Cohen’s eyes are still hooked on his wife, who’s currently laughing at something Charlie’s telling her. “Oh, yeah. And I don’t mind one freaking bit.”
“You doin’ okay?” Branson asks, his voice lowered. “Both of you, I mean.”
I glance between the two of them. Cohen runs a hand through his unruly blond hair. Now that Branson mentions it, Cohen’s exhausted. Ever since he started medical school, that’s par for the course. This, however, is something different. There’s defeat on his face, which is unnerving, as his usual, perpetual expression is goofy and happy.
“Am I missing something?” I ask.
Without a word, Cohen moves to a corner of the backyard. Branson and I follow. He glances around then leans in towards us, his voice lowered.
“I didn’t really want to get into it here, but since Bran brought it up…”
“Sorry, bro, but I’m worried about you.”
“Can one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” I insist.
“So you know how Andi and I’ve always said we don’t want kids? We’re happy being aunt and uncle to yours?”
I nod, glancing back at Andi then to my brother. “Wait, is Andi—”
He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Not exactly. I mean, no, not at all. Long story short, because one, I don’t want to dwell on this tonight, and two, because I don’t think I’ve really had the time to let it all sink in: We had a scare. For about a week, Andi thought she was pregnant. Turns out she wasn’t. When she went to her doctor for a checkup, her blood work came back wonky, for lack of a better term. We’ve been referred to a reproductive endocrinologist. Even if we don’t want kids, her doctor recommends we make an appointment to determine the cause of her abnormal blood results. The thing is…”
“The scare’s making you question your previous mandate of no kids,” I guess.
He snaps his fingers. “Precisely. I’ve always been blasé about it. Never really thought of it either way. Since Andi didn’t want them, I was cool with it. The way you two keep cranking them out’s gonna keep me busy enough.”
I elbow Branson. “You guys better hurry up with number four.”
He groans. “We just got Andrew out of diapers, man. Don’t put that bad ju-ju on me.”
Cohen chimes back in. “I don’t know if that’s going to be good enough for Andi. I find her gaze lingering on babies at the grocery store. The other day, she picked up an outfit and asked me if I thought it was cute. Sure, a panda eating bamboo on a onesie is adorable.” He rolls his eyes. “I won’t be upset if Andi changes her minds about kids. I’m perfectly happy with it. Hell, I think I’d make a great dad. What worries me is going to a doctor and finding
out that we have problems and we won’t be able to. What if it’s a case of wanting what you can never have? What if it’s not and she can’t ever have the one thing she never knew she wanted?”
“You’re getting way too ahead of yourself, Coh,” I tell him. “You can’t dwell on any of that when you haven’t even made a doctor’s appointment. My advice? Do it. Not just to know about the possibility of a future pregnancy, but to also make sure Andi’s all good. And let’s say there is a problem but Andi still wants kids. There are plenty of other options out there. Just…don’t think about that yet. Take it one day at a time. You worry too much and you’ll start to go gray like Branson.”
“Just as I’m about to compliment you, you turn asshole mode back on,” Branson quips.
I crack my knuckles. “Bran, I can only dole out so much touchy-feely stuff in one evening. You’re just unfortunately in my line of fire.”
Cohen completely ignores our banter. “You’re right, Knox. I can’t dwell. Hell, I’m a doctor. I know more than anyone that abnormal blood tests aren’t the end of the road. It could be something as simple as her not getting enough iron.” His chest heaves as he sighs. “Except an OB/GYN would’ve been able to correct that. You know what? I’m getting a copy of her chart. Check out the results myself.”
“No.” It’s more forceful than I intended. “You’re a surgeon, Cohen, not a baby or hormone doctor. You may be more keen on the medical mumbo jumbo than the rest of us, but looking this stuff up wouldn’t be that much different than when Charlie decides her headache means she has a brain tumor thanks to Google.”
“I fucking hate it when you’re right.”
Branson hooks an arm around Cohen’s shoulders. “You two are young. It’s nothing you have to decide now. Go to the doctor to figure everything out. If you change your mind, you’ll be one step closer to making it happen. If you don’t, at least Andi’s all sorted out. Seems to me you can’t go wrong here. Trust me, bro. You wanna get those hormones balanced.”
Cohen’s brow furrows. “I am a doctor, you know.”
“Sage advice,” I tell Branson, ignoring our little bro.
“I’ve had time to think about it,” Cohen says. “Not to mention conversations with Ari. What I just said? That was pretty much all her.”
“Speaking of, Cohen, you told Branson and not me?” I tease.
“Ari saw Andi coming out of her OB/GYN’s office and mentioned it to Branson. Who then asked me. I couldn’t lie. Hell, you know how nosy this family can be.”
Just as Branson’s about to retort, the sound of spoons against champagne flutes floats through the warm summer air.
“Saved by the bell,” Cohen mutters. He starts to move away, stopping when I place a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. We’re here for you. Whether you want to talk about it or just drink it away. We got you, brother.”
Branson echoes my sentiments.
“I know. And thanks. Love you assholes.”
And just like that, we’re back to normal.
After Branson’s toast filled with anecdotes from our childhood and Dad in the office, I start to sweat. I’m not one for speeches, but Dad deserves this. And I want to give it to him.
“Thank you all for coming to celebrate our dad with us. I hope you enjoy the party!” Branson’s about to pass the microphone off to the maestro when I hop up onto stage.
“Hold up. Can I have the mic for a second?”
Branson raises an eyebrow in my direction but shrugs as I walk towards him. “You, making a speech?” he asks as he hands me the mic
I shrug back. “I’ve been known to do it once or twice. Only when it really matters.”
“You’re actually doing this in public?” he questions.
“Should I not? Are you having second thoughts?”
Branson barely lets the words get through before he wraps me up in big bro bear hug. “Knox, I couldn’t think of anything better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Damn him.
“Branson, I know I’ve never said this…” I trail off, wanting to say the words that just won’t come out of my damn mouth. “But I, uh…”
He slaps a hand on my shoulder. I look up and, for the first time in forever, realize I’m practically staring in a mirror. “I know, Knox. I fucking love you, too.”
Blowing out a breath of air, I run my free hand over my freshly buzzed hair. “Uh. Pretty sure you all know me,” I say into the mic toward the crowd. “I may not be as dapper or articulate as Branson, but I think I can hold my own.”
Damn, there are a lot of people here. It’s warming to know that my dad has so many who care about him. Hell, even my best friends and their families are here. Over the past five years, we’ve all entwined in each other lives in such a way that I don’t think we’ll ever not be family, even if we aren’t all blood. And I fucking love it.
“Before I begin, I have to give props to my mom. It couldn’t have been easy raising three boys who were the spitting image of their stubborn father…”
“Hey!” Cohen shouts from somewhere in the crowd. Chuckles echo around him because everyone knows Cohen’s only stubborn when it comes to his wife.
“Okay, two stubborn boys and one who was constantly bringing injured animals home so he could try to tend to their wounds. And thank god for it, because Cohen, you probably saved Dad’s life. So, thanks to you, little bro. You’re a pain in my ass, but I love you.”
A round of awwws forces me to clear my throat and take a drink of the champagne Branson hands me.
“I also have to thank my wife, Charlie. Most of you know the dirty, gritty details of what happened, so I don’t need to get into here. I spent ten years outside of the family fold, and to be honest, I never thought I’d really be part of the Wellingtons anymore. It wasn’t until I met Charlie that I learned life isn’t so black and white. Perceptions are a bitch when you’re eighteen and think you know everything. It wasn’t until Charlie that I realized I actually had the capacity for forgiveness. That I could own up to my own failings, misgivings, whatever the hell you want to call them. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she taught me true, unconditional love and what it means to be a family. Charlie, come up here, sweetheart.”
As she ascends to the stage, all eyes are on her. And I don’t blame one soul. She’s freaking gorgeous in a swaying, emerald-green sundress that shows off her excellent tan.
“Hi.” My usually confident wife waves with a shy smile to the crowd. “I’m Charlie.”
Everyone laughs because it’s an asinine statement. Everyone here knows who she is. And if they don’t? They’ve already asked someone who the breathtaking brunette is here with. Sure, my chest puffs up a bit at knowing she’s with me. Six fucking years and nothing’s changed.
Charlie wraps one arm around my waist and then presses the other to my chest. Her eyes shine up at me. “Ready?” she mouths.
I answer her with a sweet kiss to her lips. I could continue this moment for eternity, but even with as much as I love showing off my wife, this is one department that is for me only.
Throats clear and I glance over to see Branson grinning. Ari’s drawn to his side, a toddler on one hip and another clinging to her legs. What a fucking life us Wellingtons lead.
“Speech!”
I scour the crowd and find Cohen’s devilish grin egging me on. He has zero idea what’s going on. Branson and Charlie are the only ones who know.
I kiss my wife’s lips then glance out to the crowd. “Dad. Where are you?”
It’s silent, which is unusual because my dad is a spotlight kinda guy.
“Ma! Where’s Dad?” Cohen yells.
Almost immediately, my dad grumbles. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Dad makes his way to the stage, and Branson tries to give him a chair, which he brushes off. Don’t blame the man. I’d do the same.
“I was in the middle of sneaking a cigar, so this better be good.”
The crowd roars.
Go time.
I’m not really sure why I’m so nervous. I’ve stared down the enemy and been blown the fuck up only to go right back into battle. So fuck it. I’m just gonna wing it.
I take a deep breath. “It took nearly thirty years to understand who I am. Why I am who I am. And it took thirty years to understand that it doesn’t matter. I am who I am, and I’m so fucking thankful for it. Sorry, Mom.”
I walk over and place my hand on Dad’s arm. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m so fucking—again sorry, Mom—proud to be Knox Wellington the Third. And I couldn’t be prouder to bring the fourth into the world.”
I hear Mom’s gasp from the crowd, but it’s the tears in Dad’s eyes I focus on.
He clutches my wrist. “Knox…”
“Yeah, Dad. Charlie’s expecting and it’s a boy. We’d be honored to carry on the family name.”
“You mean…”
Charlie steps up, the microphone in her hand, other hand on her belly. “If you all didn’t just hear that, let me be the bearer of great news. Cade and Chloe, as well as us, are thrilled to be welcoming a baby brother in few months.” She smiles wistfully at me and Dad. “Their brother, Knox Nathaniel Wellington the Fourth.”
Mom cheers. Arianna cries. Andi whoops. Chloe’s on the side of the stage pulling Cade’s hair. It’s par for the course.
I fucking love my family.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve shed tears in my life. One of those times accounts for when the boys and I were wrestling and not one, but two knees accidentally ended up in my groin. That hurt like a bitch for three days. Three long damn days I couldn’t make love to my wife. If that’s not tear-worthy, I don’t know what is.
This gift Knox and Charlie have given me? They’re forcing me to now use two hands. I throw the rest of my scotch back then stroll towards the stage, where Branson’s waving for me to join the happy, expecting couple.