by Ciara Shayee
She trusted him. And she’d be disgusted if she could hear the thoughts running rampant in his mind. Laker grappled back his want—no, his need—and managed a weak smile, telling her not to worry even as his stomach knotted with the restraint it was taking to stop himself ruining their friendship.
Because that’s what he was sure he was about to do, if he didn’t rein himself in. Indie was twenty-one, six years his junior, and a mother of two. She was also less than a year out of forced captivity at the hands of a vile excuse for a human being, and still recovering from her ordeal. As he spun her again, soaking up the sound of her laughter, Laker reminded himself that the last thing she’d want was to have to deal with some, almost-thirty-year-old in the midst of a premature, midlife crisis pawing at her.
She had children to parent, a life to rediscover.
A family to reconnect with.
And Laker, no matter how much he loved her, couldn’t interfere with that. She wasn’t his to want, and would never want him in return, anyway.
No, Laker decided, dipping Indie backward just to hear her squeal and make her hold him tighter, I won’t interfere with her life. She’s happy—or getting there, at least. I can’t mess with that.
~ oOo ~
Lost in each other as they were, neither Laker nor Indie noticed the eyes on them from an upper floor window. They were completely oblivious to their audience.
“What are you doing up, love?”
Sarah turned, facing Andy. He was propped up on one elbow in bed, the covers riding down to reveal his chest. Nearing forty-seven, he was still just as attractive to Sarah as he had been the first time they’d met, when she was fifteen, and he was twenty-four. She’d crushed on him—hard. But he’d been her brother’s friend; off-limits, or so she thought.
Until her twenty-first birthday party.
He’d come as company for her brother, and in her sloppy drunkenness she’d thrown her inhibitions to the wind and jumped him in front of all her friends and family.
Poor Andy hadn’t known what to do with himself.
Fast-forward twenty-five years and they were happily married with a beautiful home to call their own and a life romantic writers could only imagine. Sure, they wished they could have had a family of their own; a brood with Andy’s blond locks and Sarah’s hazel eyes. But it wasn’t to be, and besides, from the age of eleven, they’d been almost completely responsible for raising their nephew. Andy visited Laker in Italy as much as possible, and brought him home to England as often as he could—where the young boy was much happier.
When he and Sarah fell in love and moved in together, they were able to have Laker over more frequently, so by the time he hit his teens he lived almost exclusively with his aunt and uncle. Sarah was young at the time—only just twenty—but she’d loved to mother him even though there were only ten years between them. She’d always had the nurturing, mothering instinct and loved Laker to the moon and back. She’d been on the periphery of his life ever since his first few weeks of life as Andy babysat for his brother on occasion to earn extra pocket money, and Sarah’s own brother, Brady, sometimes invited them both over. Sarah still remembered the first time she’d held Laker in her arms.
“They’re here, Mum!”
Georgina stepped into the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Go let them in, then, Sarah.”
Sarah darted through the living room, skidding to a stop in the entryway. She was too late, the door already open. She peered up at the tall frame silhouetted by the summer sun.
“Hi, Sass,” Andy said softly with a slightly crooked grin; Sarah’s cheeks flamed.
“Hi, Andy.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Did you bring him? Did you bring the baby?”
He chuckled, stepping aside as Brady walked up the garden path carrying a car seat. “I sure did. You want to see him?”
“Yes!”
Both Andy and Brady laughed at her wide-eyed excitement. Over the years, they’d both been forced to play mums and dads with Sarah—or ‘Sass’ as Andy called her. She lived for her baby dolls and had been begging Andy to bring his new nephew over ever since his birth. He was three weeks old now, and it was the first time she was getting to see him.
“Sarah! Let the boys come inside, please!”
She shuffled into the living room to stand beside her mother, but the little girl vibrated with excitement as her brother carried the baby inside, setting his car seat on the coffee table beside the changing bag Andy had carried.
Shooting a wink Sarah’s way, Andy rolled up his hoodie sleeves and set to work unbuckling his nephew. Sarah squeaked with excitement when the baby began to squirm and coo at the attention.
“Go sit down, sweetheart,” Georgina murmured gently, pointing her daughter toward the sofa.
She shot across the room and threw herself into the seat, keeping her legs perfectly straight and together just like she’d been shown the last time she got to hold a baby; Georgina’s friend had given birth to twins and loved having Sarah over to hold one of them while she fed the other.
Andy chuckled and turned to face her, cradling the wriggling baby in his large hands. “Are you ready, Sass?”
“Yep! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”
He laughed softly, bending to rest his nephew in her lap. “Hey, you’re a natural!”
She beamed at his praise, but didn’t look away from the precious bundle in her lap. “He’s tiny!”
“He sure is, although he’s bigger now than he was when he was born.”
Sarah cradled his head and neck carefully, reaching up with her free hand to stroke his chubby cheek. “What’s his name?”
“Laker.”
“Does he have a middle name? Like I’m ‘Sarah Georgina Francis…’”
“His full name is ‘Laker Jaxon McKinley’.” Andy shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket to snap a photo of Sarah giggling when Laker turned his head to suckle on the tip of her finger.
“Andy, he’s gorgeous,” Georgina cooed, joining her daughter to fawn over the sweet, dark-haired baby boy. “Why ‘Laker’?”
Andy shrugged. “No idea. Amy likes it.”
Georgina rolled her eyes with a teasing wink for Sarah. “Well, that explains it then!”
“Andy, I think baby Laker is hungry.”
A quick glance at the watch on his wrist made Andy grin. “I think you’re right, Sass. It’s lunchtime. Do you want to feed him?”
“Can I?” she breathed, wonder lighting her features.
“Sure! Let me just sort his bottle out, and you can get to it.”
Sarah couldn’t drag her eyes away from the sweet baby boy’s face. He was staring up at her through wide, mint green eyes as she stroked her fingers through his tufts of chocolate brown hair.
“He’s got a lot of hair, hasn’t he?” Georgina murmured, smiling at the sight of her daughter so enamoured.
“Lots,” Sarah whispered, giggling when Laker kicked his little legs. He was dressed in a soft, cotton checked shirt and grey shorts, his wrinkled knees making her smile. “Oh…his feet are so small!”
Even in a pair of dark grey booties, it was obvious that the baby’s feet were minuscule.
Georgina laughed. “All babies have small feet, Sarah. He’ll grow, don’t worry.”
“That’s right, you will. I’m gonna take care of you, baby Laker. You’ll get big and strong, and I’ll teach you all kinds of neat stuff. Yes, I will, yes I will.”
For the next four hours, Sarah hogged Laker. She fed him, stroking his forehead and cheeks as he greedily chugged his bottle.
She changed his nappy with Andy’s guidance and kissed his cheeks until he calmed when he got mad at being undressed.
When Andy loaded him back into his car seat, fast asleep after his time with Sarah, Laker opened his eyes for a brief moment to look at her. She beamed a toothy grin, carelessly brushing a loose lock of caramel hair back behind her ear.
“See you soon, baby Laker. I’m gonna look
after you, remember.”
When she made that promise, young Sarah hadn’t known just how right she was.
Her eyes trailed over her husband’s face before darting back outside to their aforementioned nephew, embroiled in his tangled love life which bore a startling resemblance to their own. A large age gap and a previous friendship with an older brother didn’t always mean the relationship was doomed to fail; Sarah and Andy were proof of that.
“Who are you spying on, woman?” Andy teased, joining her in the window. He wound his arms around her waist, pressing his chest against her back and resting his chin on her shoulder. When his eyes found Laker and Indie, Andy chuckled. “When are they going to give it up and accept that they’re perfect for each other?”
Sarah sighed. “I really don’t know, Andy.” Twisting her neck to kiss her husband’s cheek, she murmured, “Do you think I should speak to him?”
“No, Sass. Leave them alone. They’ll get there in their own time.” He brushed feather-light kisses over her cheek, neck, and collarbone. “Come back to bed and leave them to it.”
“Andy—”
“Sarah, you promised me that you wouldn’t meddle!”
“That was before, when I didn’t know that she loved him back!”
Andy sighed, his forehead hitting his wife’s shoulder gently. “You don’t know that, you just think it. Sass, promise me that you’ll leave them be.”
In the years since her marriage, Sarah had vowed not to keep secrets or tell her husband lies. That said, on occasion, she’d had to bend the truth to keep him happy. With that in mind, she felt no guilt in crossing her fingers in front of her belly as she whispered her promise to leave Laker and Indie be.
He headed off to the bathroom, leaving her in peace to observe for a few moments longer. She gazed down at her nephew, then at the young woman she’d quickly come to see as a niece, if not a surrogate daughter. Laker and Indie were perfect for one another—if only they’d both just open their eyes and see what everybody else could.
As Andy re-entered their room, beckoning her back to bed, Sarah made a vow to herself before her husband could distract her with his wandering hands and kisses.
Whatever it took, however many times she had to break her promise to Andy not to meddle, Sarah was determined to help Laker and Indie see what she saw. To help them see how perfect they could be together if they’d let go of their fears and open their hearts to the love they held for one another.
~ oOo ~
The night before the girls’ birthday, the trio piled into Indie’s big bed, Bodhi sound asleep in his crib a few feet away, and held each other close. Marley snuggled down in the centre, burrowing beneath the duvet just as she always did, while Indie and Grace reminisced over birthdays past, their heads close together on the pillows.
When they woke in the morning, it was with smiles on their faces, warmth in their hearts, and an eagerness to start the day that hadn’t been present on any of their previous birthdays since 2003.
Having experienced her cousins’ birthdays, as well as the birthdays of various other family members and friends, Marley was far more excited for this, her sixth birthday, than any of her previous five. She woke Grace and Indie by bouncing in the space between their bodies, finally resorting to prying her aunt’s eyes open with her tiny fingertips.
“Aunt Grace, wake up! It’s our birthday!”
Grace rubbed at her eyes, unable to be cross with Marley when she’d woken up in such a good mood. “It is, Mars. Happy birthday, sweet pea.”
Marley beamed, flashing two rows of sweet, pearly white baby teeth. “Happy birthday, Aunt Grace.” She threw herself into Grace’s arms for a tight hug, then turned her attention to her mother. Her smile wavered slightly when she spotted Indie’s face.
She had tears tumbling over her cheeks, pausing in the curve of her wide smile before falling from her chin. “Happy tears, baby girl. Happy tears only, today.”
Marley bounced into Indie’s lap, peppering her wet cheeks with butterfly kisses before cupping her mother’s face between her tiny palms and frowning with concentration. “Um, boo…no. Buon compleanno, Mamma. I don’t know if I said it right. It means ‘happy birthday, Mummy’.”
A soft round of applause from the doorway had all three girls turning. Laker wore a wide grin, leaning casually against the wall in his usual, ankle-crossed pose. He winked at Marley. “Perfetto, Little Sweet.”
Marley sighed, smiling widely once more. “Good! Hey, Laker, it’s my birthday! And Mummy’s! And Aunt Grace’s!”
Opening his arms to Marley, Laker nodded sagely and gave her a tight squeeze, planting a kiss on her forehead.
Only Grace saw the way Indie released a long, quiet breath, —love for both people in the doorway swimming in her sea-blue eyes.
“Buon compleanno, Little Sweet. How do you feel? Do you feel six? Let me check.” As if to test how she felt, Laker poked her belly, her cheeks, her nose, and then her feet, tickling her bare toes until she cried ‘uncle’ through her giggles and wriggled so hard that he was afraid of dropping her.
“Laker,” she growled, out of breath. “You’re s’posed to be nice to me!”
“Oh, I see. Well, will you forgive me if I tell you that I’ve gotten you the biggest birthday cupcake ever, and you can have it for breakfast? Is that being nice enough?”
Indie, Grace, and Laker all laughed at the way Marley’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in an adorable, shocked ‘O’. He’d already asked Indie if it was okay to give Marley the giant chocolate cupcake he’d had specially made, so he had no worries there. If he was honest, he’d probably admit that he’d planned to give it to her anyway, Indie’s potential ire be damned. He already knew it would be worth it to see Marley’s face when she spotted her first ever birthday cake.
“Can I go see? Mummy, can I go with Laker and see?”
“Yeah, baby, you can. Wait for us though, okay? Two seconds, and we’ll all go see. Why don’t you go to the bathroom first?”
As Marley darted into the bathroom, Laker turned his attention to the other two birthday girls.
“Happy birthday, ladies. How do you feel? You feel twenty-two?”
Grace laughed, swinging her legs over the bed and sliding her feet into her moon-boot slippers. “Definitely feeling my age, Laker, but thank you. And no, I don’t need you to check.”
He chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, no checking. Got it.” He settled his eyes on Indie as she lifted Bodhi from his crib, cooing and pressing kisses to his curl-covered head. “What about you, Pie? Do you need me to check if you feel twenty-two?”
Indie’s cheeks flushed as she murmured her ‘no, thank you,’ and paired it with a bashful smile.
“All right, let’s go!” Marley skidded out of the bathroom on sock-clad feet, careening straight into Laker’s legs.
Laughing, he swung her up onto his shoulders, reminded her to duck when they approached doorways, and led the little procession towards the living area—his preferred, cosy living area, not the large entrance hall at the front of the house. As soon as they stepped through the doors, they were greeted with a rousing rendition of the “Happy Birthday” song, complete with handfuls of confetti and sparkly streamers being launched at them.
Marley squealed atop Laker’s shoulders, squirming to get down to lap up the attention being lavished upon her.
Grace and Indie hung back a little, content to watch Marley bask in the glory of her first birthday with her family. Before long, she had an enormous, glittery silver tiara atop her head and her neck had been adorned with a selection of matching necklaces. She was swept up by all the excitement, only calming enough to ask Laker where he’d hidden her cupcake.
“Ah, one second, Little Sweet.”
When he returned, carrying the largest cupcake Indie, Grace, and Marley had ever seen, the little girl’s eyes widened exponentially. Her smile was enormous as she begged to be allowed a piece, despite it only
being seven a.m. With Indie’s small nod as permission, Laker cut her a sliver from the back, so they’d still be able to take photos of it later when Marley could blow out her candles.
“You okay?” Ryan sidled over, looping one arm around Indie’s shoulders, and the other around Grace.
“Yeah,” Grace murmured contentedly as her eyes moved around the room to take in the ‘Birthday Girls’ banners—clearly custom made to include all three birthdays—and her family enjoying the festivities. “Do you remember last year?”
Ryan’s thick brows drew inward. “Yeah. You were hurt, weren’t you?”
His question was directed at Indie. She nodded, just a tiny dip of her head. In her memories, she saw herself limping back to her room from the study, crawling into bed as the sun appeared on the horizon. Grace had stayed awake waiting for her, and she’d cried when Indie’s first words of the day were spent wishing her a happy birthday. Marley was sleeping soundly between them, eventually waking hours later and asking, with a pointed finger and a worried, silent frown what had happened to Indie’s blackened foot.
Of course, Indie hadn’t told her or Grace the truth; that Garrett had stamped on it in his steel-toe-capped boots as punishment for some arbitrary crime he thought she’d committed.
“It’s a lot different this year,” she said softly, bringing Ryan and Grace back to the present—to the smiles, laughter, and love soaking the room.
“Yeah.” He gave them both a gentle squeeze before leading them over to the sofa. With Marley distracted by Laker, the cupcake, and making sure nobody snuck any of the decadent frosting from the top, Reagan and Peter left her in Laker’s capable hands to gravitate towards their daughters.
Indie and Grace were already crying before the men could even hug them.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.”
Indie sniffled into the warmth of her dad’s t-shirt, adjusting Bodhi so he wouldn’t be squashed between them while clutching Reagan tight with her other arm. “Thank you, Dad.”