by Kirsten Lynn
When Caleb steps into the kitchen, he bypasses the children and takes my left hand. “Yes, Brynn, I’ve wanted you all my life. I can’t wait to marry you.”
Still shell-shocked, I frown at my hand in his. “You had to think about it?”
“No, I had to get this.” He releases my hand and pulls a box from his pocket.
“Uncle Caleb, that was for Christmas.”
I glance at Michael and then meet Caleb’s gaze at last.
“Your aunt can have it early.”
I frown, irritated with the coded conversation. “What?”
“Michael helped me pick it out.”
He lifts the lid and the emerald set in white gold blurs, but not before I notice tiny anchors on either side of the dark green stone. I reach for it, but pull my hand back. “Can I?”
“I was hoping you would.” Caleb takes the ring out of the box and lifts my left hand again slipping it on my ring finger. When I lift my face, he brushes a kiss on each cheek. “I have loved you since your mom put you in my playpen when we were one. You have been the anchor in my life and the healer of all my wounds. I have and will always be yours.”
“You always take the best lines.”
“And you still never need to say anything, Angel, it’s all in your eyes.”
Pressing my lips to his, the world fades. Caleb Quinlin is mine, he said it himself. His mouth slants against mine as he takes control of the kiss, my mind, and my heart. I’ve known he would be mine one day. He gave me what he could for years, but there was always that part of him he never trusted anyone with, even me. As he tastes me, his arms wrap around me and he holds me tight. I feel our life together begin. We don’t need a preacher or judge to pronounce us each other’s, we just are.
I rub my cheek against his and his ragged breaths matches mine. Resting a hand on his chest, I curl my fingers and let the pulse of his heart guide mine. “This is really happening.”
“It’s all real, Brynn.” He squeezes me closer. “Including the two children looking at us with wrinkled noses, a little like they might puke.”
“When they puke, you can let me go.”
He leans back until my feet come off the ground, and I laugh while his gives me a Caleb bear hug. He growls and rubs his five o’clock whiskers over my cheek and neck. I arch my neck, laughing and also giving him better access. When he sets me down, the smile on his face in one I haven’t seen in forever.
“Me next,” a small voice calls up, and we both tip our heads down to find ice-blue eyes staring up at Caleb with adoration as Ella stretches her arms. Shaking his head like he’s fooling anyone into thinking this is a hardship, he gives Ella the Caleb bear hug experience, eliciting piercing squeals so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if dolphins gathered around the island.
Turning to Michael, my smile falters. His gaze is fixed on Caleb and he’s smiling at his sister’s howls, but he seems distant. I go over to him to bring him closer.
I ruffle his hair. “You did a great job helping your uncle with the ring.”
“It’s pretty, but I didn’t do much.”
“Didn’t do much? Don’t be modest!” Caleb sets Ella down, and before Michael knows what’s happening, Caleb sweeps him up and it’s his turn for a big bear hug. At first it’s a squeak of surprise, then he dissolves into the same riotous laughter Ella and I did.
When Caleb sets him down, I have to draw on every hard ass moment to keep from crying at the joy shining from the small boy who is looking at his uncle like the sun rises and sets with him.
“Okay, Devil Pups, you are dismissed for an hour of TV. Get moving.”
“Yes, sir,” they shout behind them as they pivot on their heels and head into the living room.
With a sigh, I turn back to him and then drop my gaze to the ring. “It’s kind of sad, though.”
“What?”
His tone has turned gruff, but I shrug it off. “Everyone already thinks we’re engaged, so it’s not like we can announce it for real.”
“It was real when we announced it, Brynn.”
Crossing my arms, I lean a hip against the doorframe. “It didn’t feel real then.”
“Did to me.”
“Well, I was still in shock. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s real now. So, when are you going to make an honest woman of me?”
“Tomorrow sound good?”
“It does. But I kind of like the idea of New Year’s Eve like you first suggested.”
He frowns. “That date was a deadline, Brynn. You can’t for second believe I’m leaving now?”
I press my palms to his wide chest. “Of course not. It just sounds romantic.” My cheeks heat even saying the sappy line.
“I like that. New Year’s Eve it is.”
“And small, like just immediate family, me, you, and a preacher or judge or whoever can say ‘man and wife.’”
“Sounds outstanding.”
“Then we’ll be a family.” Caleb and I both share a look before turning our attention to Michael, who slipped in while we were lost in a dream.
I sit on my heels. “Then we’ll be a family.”
“And you and Uncle Caleb can adopt us.”
I tip my head to see Caleb’s expression. He nods. “You want that, bud?”
“I’d like it a lot.”
I smile. “I’d like that, too.”
Holding my breath, I wait for Caleb’s answer. He’d just admitted a few nights before he wasn’t sure if he’d be ready to be “Dad.” Now Michael is looking up at him with eyes so full of faith, I refuse to turn and add my hope-filled gaze, as well. He’s made so many wishes come true, it’s unfair to want more, but inside I scream for him to make this one come true as well.
“Well, then I guess your aunt and I better see about getting that done, too.”
“Really?” Michael and I harmonize.
His mouth flickers in a smile before he takes on a stern look. “Like you said, we’re family. Better make it all legal.”
Relief wars with unease. He sounds more resigned to his fate than excited to have a ready-made family, until he sits on his heels next to me. He waves Michael closer and the boy complies. “I’ll tell you a secret, I’m kind of crazy about all three of you and can’t wait to make you all mine.”
I’m expecting Michael to fly into either Caleb or my arms, but instead he flies from the room. “Ella, we’re going to have a mom and dad!”
“Who?”
I huff a laugh and meet Caleb’s gaze. He smiles, but there’s a pain in his eyes I haven’t seen since the funeral. He takes my hand and brings me up with him.
I lower my voice and step closer. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. Just fighting the side of me feeling like shit for how much I really want those kids and how much I feel like I’m stealing my brother’s family.”
I cup his face and press my forehead to his. “I know, I’ve felt the same and fought the battle for over a year. But they are ours now.”
He lifts his head breaking contact but renews the touch by cupping the back of my head and dropping kiss on my forehead sweeter than any sugar cookie. We grasp the few seconds of shared joy and pain before the scamper of little feet is followed by small hands grabbing my jeans and tugging. “Michael says you’re my momma?”
Breaking from Caleb, I bend and lift Ella up, sitting her on my hip. “Do you want me to be?”
Her brow furrows. “Will my other mommy care?”
I inhale a deep breath and release the pain. When I give my answer, I know in my heart it’s the right one. “No, this is what your mommy and daddy would want since they can’t be here.”
“Then yeah. Is Uncle Caleb my daddy?”
He chucks her chin. “Affirmative.”
Ella tucks her chin and giggles. “Good.”
I cut my gaze between Michael and Ella. “Now, you two go watch a little TV while I get supper.”
I set Ella down and my heart almost melts when they both call back, “Okay, Mom.�
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I lift my shoulders and let them fall. “So, there’s that now.”
“There is that.”
“So…”
“So you just told our kids you were making dinner. We better decide what we’re making.” His shoulders are relaxed and then he winks, assuring me he’s good to go. I’m not fooling myself: all guilt is gone. This is right. Our family is right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Caleb
“Is it straight?”
“Perfect.”
I slide out from under my second Christmas tree this season. “All right. You want some help decorating?”
“At least getting the lights on.” Mom digs in a plastic tub for her strings of lights, the complete opposite of Brynn’s squared-away Christmas decorations. “Thank you for helping me. I thought your father would help, but I should have known.”
“Not a problem. We needed to come inland and get some supplies. I’m sure Brynn and the kids are enjoying a trip into Augusta to load up.”
A small smile touches her lips. “You seem to have taken to the family life.”
“You mind the kids calling me Dad?”
“Not at all. I think it’s wonderful for all of you. Mark worshiped you. I can’t think of anything that would make him happier since he can’t be here for Michael and Ella.”
“Brynn and I are going to start the adoption process after we marry.”
She rests a hand on my arm. “I’m so glad. And the children, I bet they’re ecstatic?”
I can’t help but chuckle at the number of times they call us Mom and Dad, sometimes five or six times in a sentence. “You could say that.”
“And you, you’re…”
“Just stepping right into the family your brother built.”
Both our smiles falter. If there was ever a man who could darken a room with his presence, it’s my father. Like in a bad horror flick, I almost expect somber music to play when he’s around. I drop my gaze to Mom, who’s the exact opposite, like the mothers in Christmas movies, or she tried to be when we were young.
I take the lights from Mom and meet the dark slits of my father’s cold eyes. “I’m stepping into my life and doing what Mark asked me to do, and that’s be a dad to his children. So fu—”
Mom’s hand on my forearm stops me. She smiles at me and then turns to her husband. “Hal, don’t. The children adore Brynn and Caleb; I’m thankful they love the little ones back.”
For a second, I think she got to him, but I should have known—he’s spent decades being an asshole, so he can’t stop now. “So, what, Michael joins the Marines instead of what Mark wanted?”
I step around the tree and jut a finger in his face as we stand nose to nose. “Better than some bastard like you. I know you’ve been putting bullshit into that kid’s mind.” I didn’t know the truth, and even believed Mark might have turned into a sonofabitch. Watching my father’s eyes widen, the truth is revealed. Mark just left his kids with their grandfather thinking the man couldn’t really be as big a fucking asshole as we thought. He was wrong. I ache to ram my fist in his face, and it sickens me. No son should feel that way about his father, but he stopped being anything to me years ago. “You let that boy believe he was bad. That’s over. You’re over.”
“Hal? What did you say to Michael?”
My father steps into my space until I narrow my gaze and he backs off. “I just helped him see his weaknesses before he never amounted to anything. And him believing he’s bad, that’s true. I heard Mark telling Liz. Mark disciplined him for using Mark’s phone without permission. He yelled at Mark and Mark told him he was grounded. He told Mark he wished Mark would never talk to him again. Well, he didn’t—that night was the accident. I merely pointed it out to Michael that words have consequences.”
“Holy shit! You are a wicked sick, evil twist, and you are out of those children’s lives.” I pivot to Mom. “You can see them anytime—without him.”
“Please stop, both of you.”
The low almost maniacal chuckle brings our attention back to Hal. “I’m not out of anything…son.” It’s said with such disgust I almost puke. “I’m filing for joint custody…might go for full custody if you keep talking.”
“The fuck you are!”
“Hal, no!”
“Yes. I’m going to raise those kids right, especially Michael. Mark was finally starting to understand how it should be done. He was on the fast track in his firm and well respected in Maine.” He pins me with eyes of pure hate. “He didn’t deserve to die. It should have been you. I wish you’d never come back.”
The words hit like mortar rounds into the gut, and I stumble back. A buzz fills my ears and then a loud crack snaps me back to the living room. My mother is lowering her hand as my father stands stunned, her handprint on his cheek.
“I told myself over and over you loved Caleb, that you were just disappointed he wanted to be a Marine and was better building things than in some office. You’d come to realize it one day. But now I see how wrong I was about that and a lot of things. You hate our son. Maybe because he’s a man you only wished you could be. You sue for custody and I’ll fight on the side of the kids.” She walks over to me and cups my face. “My poor boy. Give me a minute to get a few things.”
She doesn’t even stop as she walks by Hal, but her voice is ironclad. “I’m leaving you. I only wished I had when the boys were little.”
“Audrey.” He reaches for her, but she shakes him off.
“Caleb, come help me.”
I follow her upstairs, neither of us looking back. His words haunt my steps. Not because of who said them, but how many times I’ve said the same thing over the last year.
When we step into her room, I force myself out of my shit thoughts and to my mom. “You sure about this?”
She points to the closet. “Get the big suitcase for me. Yes, I’m sure. Oh, the tree.”
“Did you want to stay?”
“No.” Her glower is harsher than I’ve ever seen it. “Stop asking that. I’ll ask Brian to come get it tomorrow.”
I flop the suitcase on the bed. “I can come get it.”
“I don’t want you around him.” She pins me with ice-blue eyes, and once again in my life I’m thankful Mark and I took after her side of the family. “Promise me.”
“Roger that.”
“What does that mean?”
I can’t believe I can find a smile, but I feel the tug of my mouth curve in a brief flex. “Promise.”
“Okay.”
As she starts packing, we fall into silence until she packs the framed pictures of me in my dress blues, Mark and Liz’s wedding, and Michael and Ella. “We’ll move the children in together, and you can have Ella’s room as long as you—”
“I’m not going to the lighthouse, Caleb. You and Brynn need to build your family and don’t need me around.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not going to fight you. I’m tired and I don’t want to be stuck out on an island either if there’s bad weather. Take me to the Camden Harbor Inn. I’m going to stay in one of their finest rooms and spend all your father’s money.
“Mom—”
“Caleb Michael Quinlin, take me to the Harbor Inn.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Taking her suitcase, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs. If my father is still here, he’s decided to stay out of her way. I search the house with my gaze and a sense of sadness weighs down on me. I roll my shoulders in an attempt to shake it off.
I can see the good times with Mark and I up by six on Saturdays for cartoons and Mom decorating every space for Christmas and baking so many goodies the house smelled like the holidays into March. But then the image morphs into me standing in front of my father at eight, then thirteen, telling him I was going to be a Marine and the hate that flashed in his eyes. Then showing him the signed papers I’d just brought home from the recruiters office and having him lift his hand with every
intention of striking me, until I held my ground without flinching. And Mom telling me how proud she was. And Brynn waiting outside for me her Navy recruit papers in hand.
“Caleb?”
I turn my attention to my mother. “I shouldn’t have left you and Mark with him.”
“Yes, you should have. It wasn’t your responsibility, although you’ve always thought the world was your responsibility.”
“I should have at least come home when I could.”
“Maybe, but we all did what we could. Mark idolized you, Caleb, and no matter what your father thinks he wasn’t on any fast track to work with the firm—he was going to leave and start his own partnership with a friend. They were going to work to help people. He said it was as much like you as he could get.” She nods to the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
My chest aches when she glances back at the tree, now dark and cold. With long strides, she walks out of the door. After shoving the suitcase in the back of her SUV, I climb in the driver’s side and start the vehicle. “Maybe it would have been best if I hadn’t come back.”
“I’ll slap you, too, if you ever say that again.”
Putting the SUV in drive, I pull away from the house. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Sorry, ma’am. Would you mind if I borrowed the car after getting you settled?”
“No. Where are you going?”
“Just need to think.”
Not taking my eyes off the stone in front of me, I hold out my hand and Brynn laces her fingers with mine as she settles into the passenger seat. For a few minutes, we sit in silence the only sound the SUV’s engine. Even outside the windows nothing moves, no birds sing. Clouds have moved in leaving the scene gray and white with splotches of green provided by the pines. When I turn to her, gold flashes in the browns and greens in her eyes. Focusing on those eyes, kept me breathing and fighting for life many times.
“I’m not leaving.”
“I know you’re not.” She brushes a kiss over my knuckles.
“Mom called you.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answers. “Yes, she wanted to let me know not to go to the house and—”
“That my father wishes I was dead.”