The Mitchell Sisters: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  “I’m so glad that he has been here for you,” Gavin says. “He’s a good man. But now that I’m here, I hope you’ll let me do some of those dad things with you.”

  Maddox looks up at him, surprised. “My mom said that you might not be here so much and that Uncle Chris would still do stuff with me.”

  “Well, yes, I’m sure your Uncle Chris will still want to hang out with you, but I want you to know that I’m going to be around, too,” Gavin assures him. “I know I have to be far away in California sometimes, but I’m only a plane ride away. And you can always call or text me whenever you need to.”

  Maddox’s eyes go wide. “Text?” He looks at me and I shrug.

  “Sure, why not,” Gavin says. “I want you to be able to reach me anytime day or night if I’m not here. But I plan to be here as much as I can, okay? We have a lot of time to make up for.”

  Maddox nods. “Do you want to see my room?”

  Gavin sighs. “Yes, I’d love to see your room, partner.”

  I let the two boys go off by themselves. I sit stunned on the couch. It’s actually going pretty well.

  “Well, what did you expect?” Callie whispers behind me, making me jump in my seat.

  “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “I guess I thought we’d all sit around and stare at each other uncomfortably.”

  “Breathe, Baylor,” she says. “Maddox is excited. I can tell. This is a good thing.”

  I try to hear what’s going on down the hall. They stay in his room for a good ten minutes. When they emerge, Maddox takes Gavin out back to show him where he practices soccer. Gavin starts dribbling the ball with him and soon they are both laughing and smiling.

  Me—I’m crying.

  Callie wraps her arms around me. “Well looky there,” she says, staring out the window over my shoulder. “And just like that our Mad Max has a daddy.”

  Watching father and son at the soccer game was surreal. Gavin was beaming and couldn’t have been prouder of Maddox. I think I even saw his eyes tear up a few times. And Maddox was constantly looking up to see if Gavin was watching him.

  Apparently, I’m now chopped liver.

  After the game, which was a shutout, Gavin suggested we celebrate by going out to dinner at Maddox’s favorite restaurant.

  So here we sit. A family after all these years. In the middle of a steakhouse in Maple Creek, Connecticut. I couldn’t wipe the smile off Gavin’s face with a mop.

  When our drinks arrive, a large basket of fries come with them. I look over at Gavin, who shrugs innocently at me.

  “Awesome, fries!” Maddox says, reaching for some.

  Gavin says, “Uh uh.” He waves a finger in front of the fries and Maddox retreats sheepishly.

  I smile. I know what’s coming.

  “Want to play a game?” Gavin asks Maddox.

  “A game?” Maddox asks, confused.

  “Yes. It’s a question game,” Gavin explains. “Your mom and I used to play it when we were young. Every time you answer a question, you get some fries.”

  “Okay,” Maddox says, eyeing the humungous pile. “Do I get to ask you any questions?”

  “If you want to,” Gavin says.

  “Okay,” Maddox says.

  “Do you want to ask first, or answer first?” Gavin asks.

  “I’m kinda hungry after the game,” Maddox says. Gavin and I laugh.

  “Well, okay then, partner.” Gavin narrows his eyes at Maddox and works a hand over the stubble on his face as if trying really hard to come up with a question. “What’s your favorite color?” he asks.

  “That’s easy,” Maddox says, rolling his eyes. “Blue.”

  Gavin holds the basket out to him and Maddox grabs a few fries. He shoves them in his mouth and asks, “What’s yours?”

  “Mine?” Gavin says. “I’m not sure mine has a name, but it’s brown with little bits of blue and green mixed in.” I’m reminded of the same answer he once gave me. He looks over and gives me a wink as he grabs a french fry and pops it in his mouth.

  “What’s your favorite holiday?” Gavin asks.

  “Christmas,” Maddox replies, reaching for another.

  “Um . . .” Maddox thinks hard. “Who is your favorite guy on SpongeBob Squarepants?”

  Gavin rolls his eyes at Maddox. “Isn’t Patrick everybody’s favorite?” Gavin asks, grabbing a fry and dipping it in ketchup.

  “Who is your favorite soccer player?” Gavin asks.

  “Beckham,” Maddox says. “Duh.” He grabs a fry. “Is he yours, too?”

  “Duh,” Gavin says, reaching for another bite.

  The game continues long after we order. I sit in amazement as I watch father and son get to know each other

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” Gavin asks.

  Maddox blushes and chews on the inside of his cheek, prompting Gavin and I to share a look.

  “Well, there is this girl that I like in my class, so I guess so,” Maddox answers shyly.

  Oh? This is news. I want to stop this silly game and grill Maddox about the girl. Who is she, what’s her name, who are her parents? Is she nice to him? But I keep my mouth shut. This game isn’t about me.

  Gavin reassuringly pats my leg under the table. He knows it’s killing me to stay quiet.

  “What about you,” Maddox asks. “Do you like someone?”

  Gavin nods and his eyes briefly flash to mine. “Yes,” he says. “I love someone.”

  “Who is she?” Maddox asks.

  I catch the tiny smirk on Gavin’s face before he says, like a petulant child, “Hey, no fair. That was two questions in a row. I get to ask you another one.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Maddox says.

  “Okay, we’re almost out of fries and I have one very important question to ask you,” Gavin says, getting all serious. Maddox’s eyes go wide as he anticipates the question. “What do you want me to call you, Max or Maddox?”

  Maddox cocks his head to the side and thinks it through. He looks down at his soccer shorts and picks at them before he answers. “Well, only my family calls me Maddox.” He looks over at me and I shrug my shoulders letting him know it’s entirely up to him. “So, I guess if you want, you can, too.” Then he softly adds, “Or you can use that other name.”

  “Other name?” Gavin asks, then it dawns on him and he smiles. “Oh, you mean, partner?”

  Maddox nods shyly and grabs a fry.

  “You got it, partner,” Gavin says proudly. “So, Maddox, there’s only one fry left. Do you want me to ask you another question so you can have the last one?”

  Maddox eyes the french fry then says. “No, it’s okay, I’ll ask you one.” Then he pauses and gets fidgety. He looks around the restaurant at the other families before looking back at Gavin. He’s nervous.

  “Uh . . . is it okay, um, would it be okay if I, um, call you Daddy?”

  Gavin grabs my hand under the table and I turn away so that Maddox doesn’t see the tear rolling down my face. I hear Gavin say, “I would like that more than anything in the world.” He drops my hand and gets up from the table. He goes around to where Maddox is sitting and pulls him into a hug.

  “Ooof,” Maddox says. “You’re squeezing me too hard . . . Daddy.”

  I catch Gavin’s smile. I think it’s about the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on a man’s face. His eyes glisten when he chokes out, “Sorry, partner. I’ve missed a lot of hugs. I’m trying to make up for that, I guess.”

  I finally get to re-join the conversation and we talk and laugh and joke around until we are all sufficiently stuffed. I’m pretty sure this was the best dinner of Maddox’s life.

  And I wonder, just maybe, if it wasn’t the best dinner of mine.

  chapter thirty-five

  “Our kid is a genius,” Gavin says, coming out of Maddox’s bedroom after Maddox insisted he read to him before bed.

  I giggle. “All parents think that.”

  “No, he really is,” he insists. “He’s only seven, but he knows
every damn thing about every single Harry Potter character.”

  I nod my head. “Well, he should. I’ve been reading him the series for two years now. When we finished the very last book, he immediately wanted to start it all over again.”

  “It’s too advanced for him to read himself?” he asks.

  “Oh, no, he can usually muddle through it,” I say. “He simply chooses not to. One thing you’ll learn about being a parent, is that there’s nothing kids want more than your undivided attention.”

  Walking down the hallway, he pulls me back by my arm and shoves me up against the wall. He captures me, putting both of his arms next to my head, surrounding me with his muscular power. He leans close. So close that our breath mingles and I can smell the fruity wine we shared after coming home.

  His eyes trace the outline of my lips as his tongue flits out to run across his bottom one. Suddenly, I’m jealous. I’m absurdly jealous of his tongue. He hasn’t kissed me. He isn’t even touching me, but liquid heat pools within me and my breathing quickens along with my pulse.

  “Now that you have my undivided attention,” he whispers, “what are you going to do with me?”

  Despite my building desire, my instinct is to run. Protect my heart. It remembers how he made me feel earlier this week. It remembers how I ached for him, how I cried with him, and how seemingly perfect we fit together. I duck my head under his arm and walk back out to the living room.

  “Baylor?” he says, following me out.

  I walk to the front door and open it. “Today has been really great, Gavin. I’m happy you and Maddox are getting along so well.”

  He looks like he’s been slapped in the face. “You’re kicking me out?”

  “Let’s just take this one step at a time. One day at a time,” I say. “Please?”

  He sighs and walks across the threshold. Then he spins around, pulling me into his arms. “I’ll go, but not before I do this, darlin’.” His lips flutter against mine, tasting and teasing. Daring me to kiss him back. When his tongue pushes into my mouth, I accept it willingly and offer mine in return. We stand on my porch, making out like a couple of teenagers. He puts his arms around me, pressing his body into me. I can feel how turned on he is. My fingers find his hair as I moan into his mouth and he sucks on my tongue. Sparks ignite inside me, traveling through me to each finger and toe.

  Then suddenly, he pulls away. He kisses my forehead and says, “See you guys tomorrow.”

  He walks away. I watch him saunter down the steps, crunching gravel under his Doc Martens as he strides down the walk to his car. He smiles at me as he backs it out of my driveway. I haven’t moved. I haven’t breathed. He’s left me a hot mess of hormones standing right here in the open doorway.

  “You are seriously not going to fuck that gorgeous body tonight—are you mad?” Callie shouts from the kitchen.

  I regain control of my body and shut the door. I join Callie in the kitchen for a second glass of wine before retiring to my office.

  Two hours later, after pouring myself into writing a scene about being in Gavin’s truck and experiencing my first orgasm with a man, I find myself knocking on the door of Suite 309.

  Gavin opens the door wearing sweat pants. And nothing else. My eyes hungrily peruse every ridge and ripple of his chest. Then they lower further to see the growing erection that is starting to tent his pants.

  “You can use the key, you know.” He smirks.

  I ignore the statement and make one of my own. “This doesn’t mean anything, McBride,” I declare. “Except that I’m horny.”

  He laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me inside.

  Morning light streams through the windows of the suite, illuminating our naked bodies. I’m draped in Gavin, his leg over my thigh, his arm around my belly.

  “Mornin’,” he whispers into my ear, turning us so that he’s spooning me. I suddenly feel vulnerable at the idea of him having watched me as he was waiting for me to wake up.

  I lean my head so he can see me. “Morning,” I say.

  “You stayed,” he says.

  I frown. I probably shouldn’t have. It’ll give him the wrong idea.

  He misinterprets my frown. “Will Maddox be worried?”

  “No. On my way out, Callie said she’d tell him I went for doughnuts if I didn’t make it home before he woke up.”

  He nods. He props up on an elbow. I’m lying on my back when he starts tracing my ribs with his finger. It’s not an enticement as much as it feels like an exploration. He trails a path from hipbone to hipbone, then he doubles back and traces a couple of my silvery stretch marks. Bashfully, I try to pull the sheet up to cover them.

  “No, don’t,” he says. “I like them. It means a part of me was inside you.” He locks eyes with me. “Will you tell me about it? Your pregnancy?”

  I sigh.

  “I want to know everything, Baylor,” he says, pleading with me. “The good and the bad. I didn’t get to be a part of it. I should have been a part of it.”

  “You can’t get mad, Gavin. If I tell you, you can’t get mad. And you can’t keep saying you’re sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I don’t care whose fault it was, Bay. I’ll be sorry until the day I die that I wasn’t there for you. For him.”

  “Me, too,” I whisper under my breath.

  “So tell me,” he says. “Start right after everything went to shit.”

  I take a deep breath and settle into his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me and runs his hand soothingly down my back.

  “It was never a choice for me. I never considered not having Maddox. Not even for a second. When I went home from UNC, I took everything, knowing I wouldn’t return in the fall. I told my parents right away. They were supportive of me, but my dad wanted to get on a plane and hunt you down. I’d never seen him so mad in all my life. Chris had to physically restrain him while I begged him not to contact you. Not to ever contact you. I made him promise.”

  Gavin stiffens. “Shit. If only he would have.”

  I nod in agreement. “I had an easy pregnancy. I even started classes at the community college in the fall. I didn’t want to compromise my education. Being pregnant was surreal. It was wonderful. Every time he kicked or moved inside me, I knew keeping him was right.

  “My sisters and my mom were great. They threw me a baby shower, inviting all my friends from high school. Not many came of course, because most were away at college. The few who came looked at me like they felt sorry for me. I had little contact with them after that. Skylar and Piper were always willing to babysit so I could attend classes at night or in the summers. I had my family and I had Chris.” I stretch my head up and say, “He asked me to marry him, you know. Can you believe that?”

  Gavin nods. “He told me. Chris is a good man.”

  “Yes, he is. He helped me get through it. He still helps me. He rented a car and drove home from UNC as soon as my water broke. Maddox was a week early. He was due on the 15th but born on the 7th. When the doctor dated my pregnancy he said that I probably got pregnant around February 21st—the second time we had sex.”

  Gavin stays quiet, hanging on my every word, letting me know his emotions by touching me, squeezing me or just sighing into my hair.

  “My water broke while I was waitressing at the restaurant. My parents said I didn’t need to work, but I was adamant about paying my own way. And I was lucky I could work and go to school right up until the day Maddox was born. I was in labor for sixteen hours. Labor was hard—the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. But at the same time, it was also the very best day of my life.”

  I don’t look up at Gavin because I think he might be crying. I feel his chest heave next to me. “Being a mom came naturally to me, even at nineteen. Probably because I had such a great mom myself. And as Maddox got older and I got further into my education, I realized I didn’t ever want to be apart from him at some nine-to-five job. So, one night when he was two, I was reading to him, and when the
book was done and he still wasn’t asleep, he asked me to tell him a story. It was like when I used to visit the kids at the children’s hospital. I remembered what you had told me about how I should write books. It all started falling into place after that, and I published my first book six months later.”

  He holds me tight. “You are the strongest person I know, Baylor. I couldn’t ask for a better mom for our son.”

  I pull away from him and get out of bed, leaving him frowning. “I’d better go. He’ll be waiting.”

  “Can I see him today?” he asks.

  “Actually, I arranged for Sunday brunch with my family to be here at Mitchell’s. I thought you might like to join us.”

  “You’re not taking me to the firing squad, are you darlin’?”

  I give him a weak smile. “No. They’ve all been told of the circumstances and I think you’ll find it’s quite the opposite.”

  “Okay then. What time?”

  “Ten o’clock?” I quickly pull on my clothes from last night, not even staying long enough to shower. Gavin watches my every move, confused by my hasty exit.

  “Ten o’clock,” he says, as I walk out of the bedroom. “Don’t forget to pick up doughnuts on your way home!” he shouts after me from the bed.

  I can’t get out of the hotel fast enough. Talking about my pregnancy stirred up too many emotional memories. I almost didn’t hold it together in front of him. When I make it to my car, with my hair still messy and my shirt untucked, I finally break down.

  I cry for all the Maddox moments I celebrated by myself. I cry for the little boy who didn’t have a daddy. I cry for the heart within me that is begging to feel something but can’t.

  chapter thirty-six

  The past few weeks have gone by quickly, with Gavin continuing his pattern of flying in on Friday and out late Sunday. Maddox is over the moon. The first weekend they met, Gavin gave him his very own cell phone before flying back to L.A. Maddox texts him each day before and after school, and they talk every night before bed. It’s a bit strange not being privy to those conversations. It’s completely wonderful that Maddox feels so wanted. It’s utterly terrifying having to share my son with the one person who could obliterate us both.