Coming Clean

by C. L. Parker

  Cassidy drew back, an amused sort of confusion about her. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “Excuse me, little man. Daddy’s got something to do.” I slipped my hands under Abe’s arms, removing him from his mommy’s hip and then sitting him on the hood of the car beside her.

  When I dropped to one knee, Cassidy’s hands flew to her mouth, and then I pulled the little black box I’d picked up the afternoon before from my pocket. Opening it, I gave her a moment to inspect the antique diamond ring inside. Big, fat teardrops welled in her eyes as she looked down at my token of forever.

  With shaking hands, a trembling voice, and no clue what I’d say, I let go and gave my heart the lead. “I don’t think it comes as much of a surprise when I say that with the exception of our son, I have never loved anyone in my entire life. Maybe that’s because no one had ever loved me. Until you. You were my first, you are my only, and you will be my always…till death do us motherfucking part.”

  She laughed through her tears, not even bothering to scold me for using foul language in front of Abe.

  “You are my partner in business, you are my partner in parenting, and you are my partner in the bedroom, so it only makes sense for you to be my partner in every other way. What do you say, sweetness? Will you marry me?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I guess I can do that.”

  Abe giggled and then started clapping. “Yay!”

  “Well, don’t do me any favors,” I told her, getting off my knee to square off with the woman I’d poured out my heart to, just to get a “Yeah, sure, whatever” in return.

  Before I could really let her have it, Cassidy fisted my shirt and yanked me forward. “Shut up, Shaw….You had me at ‘till death do us motherfucking part.’ ”

  Her lips crashed into mine with a kiss that was far too hot for a giggling Abe to witness, but I wasn’t about to stop her. Wrapping her up, I crushed her against me with an intensity that matched our kiss, desperate to hold on to her and never let go. Because without Cassidy Whalen, there was nothing left to hold on to anyway.

  She was the one who finally had to break the kiss, but I still clutched her to me, not ready just yet to let anything more than her sweet breaths come between us and this moment. Her forehead rested against mine, so that all I could see was the sexy little smirk she wore on those delicious lips. “I knew I’d eventually wear you down, Matthews.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?” My cheeks hurt and my heart was about to burst out of my chest, but I wasn’t about to let her half-ass this any more than she’d ever let me half-ass anything I’d done since the day we’d met. “So, was that supposed to pass as a yes, Whalen?”

  “Hmm,” Cassidy hummed in contemplation, and then turned toward Abe. “What do you think, Abey Baby? Should Mommy marry Daddy?”

  The smile on my little man’s face was big enough to split the heavens and break my heart in two at the same time. He nodded emphatically, his little head practically bouncing off his shoulders with his joyful giggle.

  “Well, there you have it,” Cassidy said when she turned back to me. Her expression grew serious, her eyes full of every wonder in the world as she gazed into mine. Time stood still for the long moment she regarded me, her fingers lovingly playing with the hair at the back of my neck in contemplation. And then she sighed. “I would love nothing more than to be your wife, Shaw Matthews. Of course I’ll marry you.”

  The birds in the trees chirped a little louder, the breeze across my skin felt a little warmer, the sun grew a little brighter, and the colors of the world around us became a little richer. All of that cliché stuff happened in the span of the five seconds it had taken Cassidy to make me the happiest man on earth, and I realized that was because until this moment, I’d been walking around with a veil over my eyes, seeing nothing more than a blurred version of a reality that was mine for the taking if only I’d reach out and grab ahold of it. So I did. And I was never letting it go.

  EPILOGUE

  Cassidy

  Stonington, Maine, was not only my hometown, but it was also the place where Shaw and I had finally realized our feelings for each other ventured beyond the realm of lust and into the mystical kingdom of love. We’d conceived our first child there, weathered a hurricane of epic proportions, and Shaw had found his surrogate family, my family. So it only made sense that it was where we should make it all official with a fairy-tale wedding. Our fairy-tale wedding, which meant it was every bit as conventional as our relationship had been from the beginning, in that it wasn’t conventional in the least.

  About a year after the likewise-unconventional proposal of marriage from Shaw, our knot had been tied. It had been a beautiful wedding out on the lawn of the Whalen House at night, with twinkling lights strung up in the trees, antique lanterns dangling from iron rods, and floating paper candles littering the calm water of the bay. A mild ocean breeze kept the summer night light and airy, only adding to the ambience of the most perfect day of my life.

  I’d walked the aisle to the tune of Bruno Mars’s “Marry You,” against Ma’s wish for the traditional wedding march, and more comfortable with my body now, I’d worn a simple strapless beach dress with a sweetheart neckline that showed off my bust and a breezy gauze skirt that ended above the knee. And yes, it was white, also against Ma’s wishes. Abe had been the ring bearer, wearing a cute little suspender-shorts suit set of khaki seersucker with a hat and tie to match and his Superman cape proudly blowing in the wind. Da had walked me down the aisle, looking dapper in his cream-colored suit and tie, the first time I’d ever seen him in one. And Shaw had been waiting for me at the end in a white linen shirt—unbuttoned at the top to show off a glimpse of his toned chest—and matching pants. But all I’d seen was his smile, and the brief darting of his tongue across his bottom lip and the adjustment of the front of his pants when he saw me, which our guests seemed to have missed because they were looking at me.

  Everyone we loved and cared for was present, friends and colleagues alike. The whole town of Stonington was booked solid, with our nearest and dearest staying at the Whalen House with us, of course. It was all hands on deck. Ma was a busy bee, and that was exactly how she liked it. Abby, when she wasn’t spoiling Shaw and Abe rotten, had been a tremendous help as usual. Casey and Mia had pitched in to help keep everyone comfortable, and many of the townspeople had lent a helping hand to get all of the preparations in place.

  The I do’s were said, because he did and I did, and the whole legal part of our binding had gone off without a hitch or even a misfire from Da’s shotgun. Moments after the wedding—and a toe-curling kiss to seal the deal—we were introduced to the world as Mr. and Mrs. Shaw Matthews. Well, I was going to keep my last name since I was the only remaining Whalen to carry it on, but Shaw was okay with that.

  Sitting at the bride and groom’s table with our closest friends, I looked around at all our loved ones and smiled. I couldn’t help but feel an amazing sense of pride and completion, like we’d all come full circle.

  The Ingrams—Marcel, Camille, and Vale—had even made the long trek from their new home in Texas to share in our happiness. Marcel had become Shaw’s number one. Fitting, since he’d also gone number one in the draft, signing a very generous contract with Dallas, thanks to Shaw.

  Sasha had given birth to a beautiful little girl, whom they’d named Holly. Landon was wrapped so tight around his little princess’s finger, even though she was only four months old, that it melted my heart every time I saw the quiet soldier of war with her. Though he was never ostentatious about it, everyone within a mile of the two most important females in his world could feel Landon’s protectiveness. No one would ever get within distance to cause them any harm, and if someone did, I could imagine a quick snap of the neck, Liam Neeson–style.

  Denver and Quinn had adopted a little girl from Guatemala, Rocklynn, who had just reached the terrible threes. Though it had been a tradition in Denver’s family to name their children after a city i
n their home state of Colorado, Rocklynn had been a compromise. Quinn had refused to name her Rock Ford Rockford. Denver had still given her the nickname he’d wanted, Rocky, which was fitting because she was a little rambunctious tomboy, always climbing her quarterback father for a rough-and-tumble wrestling match.

  And then there were Chaz and Demi. God, I felt horrible for them. They’d wanted a baby of their own so bad, but month after month, the tests had come up negative. The stress levels had been high, and all of that getting their hopes up only to have them dashed had taken a toll on their relationship. So they’d given up, because having a child isn’t worth losing the one you love in the process.

  It had to have been especially hard for them to see Mia’s belly, swollen with child, and the way Casey rubbed on it every chance he got, cooing to his unborn baby. Casey and Mia were a match made in heaven, and it warmed my heart to see my best friend so happy and in love. Casey had never been mine and I had never been his, we’d simply been keeping each other company until our soulmates arrived.

  Wade and Monty were living out their dream retirements without a care in the world now that Shaw and I had taken over things with Striker Sports Entertainment. He and I worked together like a well-oiled piece of machinery, juggling the business end of things with clients and employees while also being the best parents we could be.

  Abe had been sleeping on his own every single night since the day we’d returned from Detroit. I was so incredibly proud of him. Always eager to please his parents, he’d taken the change with ease. Especially after Shaw had explained to him that it was his duty to help him transition from a little boy into a little man, and little men did not sleep with their mommies. Abe had this whole hero-worship thing for his daddy, so whatever he said was like martial law. I was sure it had helped that Daddy was now reading to him every night.

  Yes, Shaw was an outstanding father, always attentive, always present. His family came before anything and everything now. In fact, if I really added things up, I bet he spent more time with Abe than even I did.

  Things weren’t perfect between us. Every couple has their issues, and given the amount of passion Shaw and I put into everything we did, there was no way to avoid a scuffle here and there. We were still seeing our relationship coach, Dr. Jeremy Sparling, to keep things on an even keel, though we’d cut back the appointments to once a month.

  As for our sex life…I smirked to myself. Yeah, no issues in that department. Shaw always, always made sure I was well satisfied, which wasn’t to say there weren’t times when he got his and I didn’t, or that I got mine and he didn’t. It was a game we liked to play. Being denied was a torture well worth getting even for in the end, and the buildup to taking what had been denied was a form of foreplay we’d come to really enjoy.

  Dr. Katya Minkov had done her duty in reigniting the fizzling flame into an all-out inferno. We owed her a lot. In fact, in the morning, we were going to visit her for a long overdue vacation/honeymoon. I could hardly wait to see what she’d have in store for us. Even if everything about Katya, including the location of her establishment, hadn’t been so hush-hush, we’d still continue to lie to our friends and family about where we were honeymooning. Some things were better kept between couples, and this was our own dirty little secret.

  “Ouch! You little stinker!” Sasha laughed down at a nursing Holly nuzzling her breast.

  The ever-protective daddy jumped to attention, not that he’d ever relaxed his guard. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. She just has a tight suction,” Sasha said, easing his worry.

  “I’m glad I didn’t have to breast-feed,” Quinn commented, as if that were ever a possibility. “Rocky! Stop that!” His voice was low so as not to alert the whole list of guests to his tomboy daughter’s social faux pas of lifting the skirt of her pretty pink dress over her head. Rocky only giggled in response, dancing around in a circle to show off the cute bloomers she wore beneath. Denver whirled in to save the day, sweeping his baby girl off her feet to place them on his own for a daddy-daughter dance.

  Mia’s hand flew to her chest as she looked on at them. “Oh, my God! That’s adorable! I wish we were having a little girl.” Casey and Mia had learned they were having a boy, news that Casey was very happy to hear because now he’d have a son of his own to pass down his family’s legacy.

  Quinn exhaled a frazzled breath and sunk into his chair. “Take that one.”

  “Quinn!” Demi yelled at him because of course she’d be sensitive to someone offering to give his child away when she couldn’t have one.

  “What? Oh, I don’t mean it. I’m just saying she’s a handful, is all. I need some R-and-R from my little R-and-R.” He laughed at his own play on Rocklynn’s initials. “I’m constantly chasing her around, and she always wants to wrestle, thanks to my big brute of a husband,” he said, waving toward Denver. “I blame him. He gets her all riled up, and then I’m the one who has to play the bad guy. She’s going to hate me.”

  “No, she isn’t.” I patted his hand, doing my best to reassure him. “They call it the terrible twos for a reason.”

  “She’s three,” he corrected.

  “And it’ll last until she’s four or five, but she will grow out of it. And if she doesn’t, put her in jujitsu classes or something. Mixed martial arts as a sport is growing in popularity more and more every day. We’ve even signed a few of those athletes at Striker.”

  “Oh, hell. Look at me complaining about my baby and being insensitive,” he said, frowning across the way at Demi. “I’m sorry, Demi.”

  “Huh?” Demi’s head popped up, her concentration on fiddling with the stem of her champagne flute broken.

  Her very full champagne flute. I furrowed my brow in contemplation. Demi could keep up with even my da when it came to kicking them back, but I couldn’t recall her asking for any refills.

  Chaz leaned over her shoulder, his hand disappearing beneath the table and moving back and forth. “You good, little mama?” he said under his breath, but she was beside me, so I heard him loud and clear.

  With a loud gasp, I sat back. “Say it right now, Demi Renée!”

  “Say what?” she asked, looking around when she saw we’d drawn the attention of all our friends.

  “You know what!”

  “Cass, you’re making a scene,” she said under her breath.

  “And it’s going to get even bigger if you don’t spill! You haven’t touched that champagne, and I heard and saw what Chaz just said and did.”

  Quinn sat forward, eyes wide with excitement though he didn’t know what was happening. “What? What?”

  Sasha popped Holly off her boob and handed her over to Landon. “Demi, what aren’t you telling us?”

  “Just tell ’em,” Chaz prodded her.

  “No! It’s Cassidy and Shaw’s big day,” she said out the corner of her mouth to him. Yep, I could still hear them.

  “Say it, or I will,” I warned her.

  “Okay, fine! I’m pregnant!”

  Sasha and Quinn gasped much like I had when I’d figured it out. “Why didn’t you tell me!” Sasha yelled at her.

  “Because we wanted to make sure everything was going to go okay with the pregnancy first, and by the time we were sure, it was time for Cass and Shaw’s wedding, so I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to trample all over that.”

  “Shut up!” I screeched. “This is the best wedding gift ever!”

  I hugged her, hard, and then backed off, worried that I might somehow cause something to go wrong if I didn’t.

  “How far along are you?” Quinn asked.

  “Twelve weeks, and everything looks very normal and healthy. I twisted the doc’s arm until he agreed to give us two ultrasounds to be sure.”

  Knowing Demi, she probably meant that literally.

  “Well, congratulations!” I squealed, excited for two of our very best friends. After all the heartache they’d endured they were finally going to get to have their littl
e bundle of joy.

  I scanned the room, finding my Abey Baby at his mimi and pop-pop’s table, while the woman he was named after, Abby, was feeding him full of cake and cookies. Laughing to myself, I shook my head because, hey, all that sugar-induced hyperactivity was going to be her problem for the night.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?” the MC boomed. “Please clear the floor for the bride and groom’s first dance.”

  I was caught off guard when Michael Jackson’s duet with Justin Timberlake, “Love Never Felt So Good,” began. Where I had been in charge of choosing our wedding song, Shaw had been in charge of the one for our first dance.

  I shook my head at him when he stood and offered his hand. “I can’t dance to this, Shaw.” I laughed.

  “You can with me in the lead. You still haven’t learned that sometimes it’s okay to follow, woman?” A playful smirk of challenge graced his gorgeous lips.

  Challenge accepted, I stood, allowing him to guide me out onto the dance floor. Once we’d found our place with one of my hands in his, another on his shoulder, and his other on my waist, I told him, “I will follow you anywhere.” And then, whoosh, I was swept off my feet.

  Shaw twirled me round and round in long strides, his maneuvers so graceful that I felt as if my feet never touched the ground until finally we stopped, and I was forced to lift one foot into the air when he took me in for a deep dip. The town of Stonington erupted into applause, and if I hadn’t been holding so tight to him while dangling so precariously close to the ground beneath me, I might have done some clapping of my own.

  The man of the hour brought me back upright, and before I had the chance to regain my bearings, his lips were on mine for a scorching kiss that left nothing to the imagination as to how we’d be spending our honeymoon night. Many aww’s and wolf whistles later, I was laughing up at him, my cheeks frozen from the enormous smile I couldn’t quite get under control. But who needed control when a man like Shaw Matthews was holding you with strong arms and twirling you around and around so much that everything else became a blur?