by Ciara Shayee
She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Ryan, you may now kiss your bride, if you wish to.”
Before she’d finished speaking, Ryan had swooped Grace into his arms and bowed her back as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
~ oOo ~
With tears in his eyes, Laker watched as Ryan steered Grace in loose circles around the dance floor. His fingers moved over the piano keys with ease; he’d been practicing this piece of music at Grace’s request for almost three months and could play it in his sleep, at this point.
His eyes cut over to Jada—Theodore and Jenna’s daughter, who’d been asked to sing Ryan and Grace’s first dance song. She’d been shaking like a leaf right before the wedding, but you wouldn’t have known it now. Her voice was sure and confident as she watched the newlyweds while serenading them with Ryann Darling’s “I Choose You.”
Laker had never seen Ryan look so happy. He was proud as punch with his bride in his arms. And Grace…
He couldn’t reconcile this beautiful, happy, healthy young woman with the girl he’d pulled from that flaming motel room all those months ago.
She absolutely glowed.
“Mamma told me to bring you a drink, Laker.”
He grinned as Marley slid onto the piano bench and held the tell-tale red can between her hands, a straw protruding from the top. “Grazie, Little Sweet.”
“That’s okay.” She pushed up onto her knees, peering over the piano at her dancing aunt and uncle. “Why’re Uncle Ry and Aunt Grace dancing?”
“It’s their first dance, Little Sweet. Everyone who gets married gets to do a dance.”
“Hm.” Marley seemed content just to watch, so Laker returned his gaze to the dance floor. Not for the first time, his attention was briefly diverted from the bride and groom by the beautiful face of his beloved.
Indie was across the room—holding Bodhi while talking to Reagan and Peter. Laker sighed, unable to stop his eyes sweeping over her figure. The silvery satin dress clung to her in all the right places and swept out around her feet. It had what Indie had informed him was a cowl neck and keyhole back, and there was a small satin bow resting in the small of her back. As she rocked slightly from side-to-side, her smile widening, Laker released a breathy sigh.
She’d never looked more beautiful—he’d never wanted her more.
In the nine months since he’d professed his love for her, Laker had behaved. He’d been true to his word that he wouldn’t pressure her. He’d remained her friend, first and foremost.
If she needed something, or one of the babies needed something, he was there.
When Ryan and Grace announced their surprise engagement shortly after everyone returned from Italy in June, after Enrico’s funeral, Laker stepped in to take care of the children for Indie while she helped Grace and Sarah throw together a wedding they’d be proud of.
She’d been sick with the flu back in September and Laker spent every day of the two weeks she was ill taking the children on fun day trips to tire them out and let her rest.
When they cooked together, which they did most nights, Laker began to anticipate what she’d need and when. They became a well-oiled machine, and both looked forward to their nightly kitchen duties.
During Bodhi and Marley’s first experience of chicken pox, he spent every single night on the sofa at Reagan’s house and demanded that Indie—only recently recovered from the flu—sleep through while he tended to the poorly babies. He mopped up tears, changed nappies, and cuddled screaming children through their misery for two weeks; all without complaint or being asked.
Andy and Sarah both spoke to him and questioned his motives for being so helpful with the children and spending so much time with them. They’d been appeased by his easy admittance that he would continue to love on them until they asked him to stop. His love for the children was in no way influenced by his love for Indie, and he assured his aunt and uncle that he’d love them all until the day he died—whether Indie ever admitted that she reciprocated his feelings or not.
As the song came to an end, he caught Jada’s eye. She nodded, stepping down from the small stage to let the DJ take over. He called for everyone to applaud the bride and groom, then informed Peter that it was time for the father-daughter dance. The cameraman snapped away as Peter left Indie and Reagan to pull Grace into his arms.
They smiled at one another and Laker could just about make out Peter telling her, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
Their chosen song began and the room hushed as they watched them shuffle around the dancefloor—neither of them were talented dancers, so they chose to sway almost in one spot as they whispered quietly to one another, their smiles wide, tears plentiful.
“Laker?”
“Yes, Little Sweet?” Laker scooped Marley onto his lap, taking a few long pulls from his drink as she frowned thoughtfully.
“How is Uncle P Aunt Grace’s daddy?”
Laker’s brows furrowed. “Um…” This sounded suspiciously like the intro to the birds and the bees talk, and that was something he was far from comfortable getting into—especially without Indie. His eyes darted around but came up empty.
Of course, she’d disappear now, right when I need her, he fretted.
“Well, Little Sweet…Uncle Pete and Aunt Karen had a special hug and then your Aunt Grace was born, right?”
Marley nodded. She’d heard this much before, when Carl-Roman had questioned Archie about his creation at the dinner table. It had made for a very awkward, but interesting, dinner conversation.
“So, to have a special hug and make a baby there has to be a daddy and a mummy. Babies can have two daddies or two mummies, but someone has to help them make their baby first. You need a boy and a girl to make a baby. Does that…does that make sense?”
Laker was relieved—and a little proud of himself—when Marley grinned and nodded. Jesus H Christ…I’m so not prepared for this! His eyes roamed the dance floor, still desperate for Indie to appear and come to save him from totally messing this up.
“So…Mamma had to have a special hug with someone to make me? Did she have to give a special hug to my daddy?”
Ice slithered through Laker’s veins. Cazzo. Why hadn’t he realised where she was headed? Why hadn’t he just stopped her at the beginning and told her to go ask Indie? Or Sarah! She was there…just a few feet away, talking to Andy and Jenna. He tried in vain to catch her gaze, but she was looking at photos on Jenna’s camera—most likely of Jada, as Laker had seen her snapping away a few minutes ago as her daughter sang.
“No, Little Sweet. He wasn’t—” For as much as Laker wanted to slate Marley’s sperm donor—he didn’t deserve even the title of biological father, as far as Laker was concerned—her sweet, guileless expression as she peered up at him so trustfully just wouldn’t let him do it. He couldn’t break her heart by telling her what a fucked-up individual he’d been. Possibly, one day, Indie would tell her a bit about him—when she was older and could handle more of the truth—but Laker couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Mamma got a little help to make you because she wanted you so darn much.” Laker tickled her belly, setting his drinks can on the piano. He hoped it would distract her; it didn’t.
“What about baby Bodhi? Did she get help to have him too?” she asked as soon as she’d caught her breath and stopped giggling.
Laker sighed. “Yeah, Little Sweet. Mamma had help making both of you.”
The frown was back on Marley’s face. Laker absolutely hated it and fought the urge to lean in and kiss it away. He only ever wanted to see toothy smiles on his pretty Little Sweet’s face. Seeing her so contemplative, so serious and wise beyond her years, made him uncomfortable.
“What does a daddy do? What’s their job?”
Her new line of questioning confused him, but he answered as best he could manage. “Well, they help the mummy changing lots of nappies when the babies are small, and they give them cuddles and teach them all kinds
of fun stuff like how to ride a bike, eat spaghetti, read…lots of things.”
Marley’s eyes twinkled with something akin to mischief, but there was curiosity there, too. “And swim?”
“Yeah, Little Sweet. And they teach their babies how to swim. Why? Where’s all this come from, huh?”
Marley sucked in a deep breath, her little body shuddering with force. She looked over to Peter and Grace, who were just finishing their dance, then raised her gaze to Laker and stared into his eyes.
Suddenly, under Marley’s scrutiny, Laker felt incredibly scared. He felt very small, as though she was looking at him under a microscope.
“Laker, will you be my daddy?”
chapter forty
Like a fish out of water, he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth. He couldn’t get any air into his lungs, but at the same time, he’d never felt more alive. His heart raced like a thousand wild horses and his palms abruptly felt clammy.
Laker, will you be my daddy?
Every part of him wanted to scream ‘yes’…except the tiniest, most infinitesimal part of him. For almost the past eighteen months, he’d been playing dad to Marley—and to Bodhi, once he’d arrived. He’d changed the nappies, read the bedtime stories, wiped the snotty noses, and kissed the boo-boos that should have been their dad’s responsibility. Laker had fallen head-over-heels for his Little Sweet, Tesoro, and Indie. There was no doubt about that and never had been.
But until Indie fessed up and admitted that she loved him, Laker had to hold a tiny part of himself back. It wasn’t on purpose, and he’d have given anything for Marley, Bodhi, and Indie, but still…he couldn’t let go and be all-in until he knew that Indie was, too.
“Don’t you love me, Laker? That’s what daddies do, too, isn’t it? They’re s’posed to love their babies, aren’t they? And you love me! And you teach me all the stuff…like to eat spaghetti and read and swim.”
Suddenly, it became glaringly obvious why Marley had asked the questions she had. She wanted to compare his answers to the things he did with her—and had done with her ever since she opened up to him back in Montana.
Not her paternal grandfather or her uncle, but him.
She’d felt a connection to him even then; Laker would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt drawn to the silent little girl, too.
As he choked on words too reluctant to leap to freedom, Laker wondered if there were even enough words to describe exactly what Marley meant to him. He was almost certain that no explanation he could give would adequately describe just how much he loved this loving, beautiful, tiny little girl.
“Marley, of course, I love you. You’re my Little Sweet! You’re my best girl, my little sidekick. But I—” don’t have the right to call myself your daddy, even though it would make me the happiest man in the whole world.
If he hadn’t been so distracted, so discombobulated by this totally unexpected line of conversation, Laker might have noticed the footsteps approaching from behind, or the babble of a baby reaching for two of his favourite people.
As it was, the first he knew of their presence was a distinctly feminine gasp when Marley blinked her lashes at him, tears threatening to fall as she whimpered, “Please, Daddy?”
Despite having dreamed about this moment hundreds of times, and imagined how it would go countless others when she called out ‘Laker’ at the park or when she wanted to say ‘goodnight,’ Laker wasn’t at all prepared for how he would feel hearing Marley call him ‘Daddy.’
It was like…the most exhilarating roller coaster. It was that petrifying but fantastical moment when you reach the tallest point, and you’re about to fall.
The DJ inviting the guests to join the dance floor didn’t even register. Nor did the scent of a familiar perfume until Indie slumped onto the piano bench beside him, her eyes filled with tears as she chewed on her lip.
His heart stuttered and restarted, thudding hard enough in his chest that he was almost certain it was going to break free.
“Pie, I—” he trailed off. He had no idea, none whatsoever, what to say.
She inhaled shakily, letting Bodhi slap at the piano keys with abandon. “Marley, you can’t just decide something like that, okay? It’s not that simple.”
Laker’s heart broke. It split wide open and fell to his feet.
She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want me.
“I mean,” she continued hesitantly, apparently unable to meet Laker’s gaze. “You need to ask and not push something like this on Laker. It’s not…you can’t just force him if he doesn’t want—”
“Can I stop you there, just for a second?” Laker interrupted, his hope tentatively renewed. Indie nodded. He closed the lid of the piano and lifted Marley to sit there. Now eye-level with her, he tried not to smile and blinked back a fresh round of tears. “Little Sweet, do you understand what you’re asking me?”
Marley nodded vehemently. “I want you to be my daddy. Like Uncle P is Aunt Grace’s daddy, and Pawpaw is Mamma’s daddy, and Uncle Arch is Carl-Roman and Chase’s daddy. I want you.” She leapt from the piano to wrap her arms around Laker’s neck, burying her face against him. He moved automatically to catch her, but Laker’s hands remained frozen on her back as he cradled her small body against his chest, looking to Indie for help.
Nothing about this was normal. They weren’t a couple and this wasn’t the usual way a man would take on a child as his own—but what about their life, their family, was normal? They’d done everything the wrong way around. Laker knew he’d never leave them, not even if, one day, Indie fell in love with another man and chose to settle down with him. It would absolutely break Laker’s heart, but he’d still be there for Marley and Bodhi in whatever capacity they wanted him. As for Indie…
She had torrents of tears pouring over her cheeks and a sort of hopeful resignation swirling in the whirlpool of greens, blues, and greys that made up her eyes. “Laker, do you want this? You have to know for sure that you won’t change your mind. I can’t…I can’t pick up the pieces if you change your mind. I just can’t—”
“Do you really think I’d do that? Do you really think I’d change my mind?”
Indie stared into his eyes for what felt like a lifetime but was really only a few seconds. Laker hoped she’d see his resolve—his love, adoration, and commitment.
How could she not? It was written all over his face all day, every day.
Laker had been all-in whether he knew it or not for longer than anyone would ever know.
“No, I don’t think that. I don’t think you’d do that to her—to any of us.”
A soft sort of understanding blanketed the little quartet at the piano as Indie and Laker exchanged swiftly spreading smiles.
Are we doing this? Laker’s eyes asked.
Yes, Indie’s urged, dancing towards Marley before bouncing back to his face.
He sucked in a deep breath and carefully pried Marley away from his chest, holding her hands between their bodies as she rested back on the piano. He took a moment to just look at her.
Her hair had escaped its braid, so loose, curled tendrils framed her wary, doll-like face. Laker’s eyes trailed over her knotted brows and tiny frown, a small smile curling his lips; he loved the way her cute, button nose wrinkled when she frowned. She reminded him of a sweet, baby bunny.
“Little Sweet, my beautiful little girl, don’t ever think that I don’t love you, okay? I love you…so, so much. You, your brother, and your mamma are my whole, entire world.” His eyes were stinging, and his heart hurt with the force in which it was beating, but Laker had never felt emotion like the joy racing through his veins at that moment. He gently squeezed Marley’s hands. “Little Sweet, I’d be honoured if you would let me be your daddy.”
“Really?” Marley squealed, her azure eyes both wide and overjoyed as she beamed wider than ever before and bounced on the spot. “Really? You’ll be my daddy? And baby Bodhi’s daddy? You gotta take both of us.”
“Little Sweet,” L
aker croaked out a chuckle, reaching up to stroke her rosy cheek before pulling Bodhi into his lap so they could share a three-way cuddle. “Nothing would make me happier than to be your daddy—and that’s both of you.”
The cameraman was standing nearby talking to Andy and Sarah when he heard the excited squeals from over by the piano. He managed to right his camera and capture the moment Marley threw herself at Laker from the perfect angle to include all of their faces—Laker laughing, Marley beaming, Bodhi looking slightly confused, and Indie dashing tears from her cheeks.
Having squeezed Laker’s neck almost painfully hard, Marley eventually pulled back with a happy little wiggle. She planted a noisy kiss on her baby brother’s head and squished his chubby cheeks between her small hands before beaming and tugging Bodhi up by his armpits to face Laker.
“Look, baby Bodhi. This is our daddy.”
~ oOo ~
An hour later, when Indie told Grace what had happened, they both earned more than a few bewildered looks. Their faces were drenched in tears, though they hesitated on their descent and pooled within their wide smiles. Just two years ago, they’d been terrified, beaten girls living under the tyranny of a crazy man, thousands of miles from home.
Now, here they were, back in their hometown celebrating Grace’s wedding.
And Laker…Laker wanted to be Marley and Bodhi’s dad.
Indie still couldn’t believe it. She kept casting glances toward them—the three amigos who hadn’t left each other’s side in the hour since they’d peeled themselves away from the piano to dance.
Apparently, Marley wanted her father-daughter dance, and Laker was unable to say ‘no.’ Of course, Bodhi couldn’t be left out so he was there, too, chuckling away in Laker’s arms as he swung his sister around.
“God, I need to go freshen up. I’m a total mess,” Indie complained when the music changed and Laker, Marley, and Bodhi melted into the crowd of guests. She swiped at her mascara-ringed eyes and sighed, but her smile was wide.