My hand grips the leather strap of my bag, and I squeeze as hard as I can at the memory.
When we walked outside of his house that night, the patrol car Bryce had called was in the driveway. As we filled the police officers in on what our father had confessed to, a loud gunshot blasted inside the house. Deep down, I think we all knew what had happened.
The officers drew their guns, called for backup, and ran into the house, their footsteps heavy as they pummeled through the doorway. Austin was right behind them, but Bryce held me back as my body leaped forward to follow.
Missy showed up shortly after in her convertible and looked at us in confusion. Bryce didn’t hold her back from going inside. Her screams echoed from deep within the house. Austin came out shortly after, his hands running through his hair and face as white as a ghost. Our father was dead from a gunshot wound to his temple. I hadn’t even known he owned a gun.
I had a nervous breakdown that night. Harper held me for hours and soothed my broken soul. The nightmares lasted for a month, and I painted in a frenzy. Half of me was ready to grow up and move forward with my life. The rest still had many demons to ward off.
I wonder sometimes, if I had known that night would be the last time I saw my father, if I would have stayed a little longer, said something else, anything.
I guess I’ll never know.
Missy was taken out of the house that night in handcuffs. They brought her in for questioning, and the next day, she was charged with the conspiracy to murder our mother. Apparently, our father had equally incriminating evidence in his office wall safe, including tapes and videos of Missy admitting to the crime. He even kept the lug nuts for reasons none of us will ever know. Missy’s charge was changed to murder in the first degree.
The trial lasted six months. Bryce, Austin, and I testified and were there every day after to see that justice was served. When the gavel went down, she was sentenced to eighteen years to life in prison without parole. I’m man enough to admit, I cried that day. It doesn’t change the past, but it helps us move on with the future.
I let out a heavy sigh and walk toward the garage and into my parking spot that once belonged to my stepmother.
I hop onto my motorcycle that waits in my spot. Bryce’s Tesla is still here. I text him, telling him it’s time to go home. He lets me know he’s on his way out.
I kick-start the bike and pull out. On the north side of town is a section with colorful Victorian row houses similar to the one I was named after. I pull up into the driveway and park behind the Lexus. I bought it for her on our one-year wedding anniversary.
I walk up the front steps with the potted plants of roses—all the colors I once painted on her body—and stop just outside, taking a look through the large bay window at the gorgeous sight before me.
Harper.
She’s sitting on the sofa, reading a book. The painting I made of her after she left me for the second time is hanging on the wall behind her. On the table beside her is our wedding photo and another of us with our friends in New York at the speakeasy. A gold frame with a picture of my mother with me and my brothers at the lake house sits on a table on the opposite end of the couch. Next to it is a recent photo of Rita and Kevin Doyle.
We are surrounded by so much love, and I feel it the instant I step through the door.
I startle her from where she sits. Her blonde hair is longer now, but those curls are still as beautiful as ever. I drop my bag to the floor, kick the door closed, and crawl onto the couch, greeting my wife with a sensual kiss.
“Honey, I’m home,” I speak into her mouth.
Her hands skim my chest and push my suit jacket off of me. “I like you home.”
I can’t explain to her how seeing her here at the end of my day makes me feel complete. It’s cheesy as hell, but it’s true.
When I moved back to San Francisco, Harper couldn’t join me because she had to finish out her school year. I respected the fact that she never considered breaking her contract with the school district. Those kids meant too much to her, and I didn’t argue.
Being apart for those months was rough. I found any excuse I could to fly back to surprise her, and she came here during winter and spring breaks. We learned really quick that phone sex could definitely have its benefits and that the art of the love letter was not dead. I painted for her and sent her my drawings daily. She has them all in a trunk in our bedroom.
Now that she’s here, I never, ever want to be apart from her again.
I undo my tie and toss it on the ground before hiking up her knee, settling my body in between her thighs. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting but in a good way. Fourth grade math makes my head spin.” She giggles.
Harper was able to use her New York State teacher’s license to get a job as a fourth grade teacher in the Tenderloin district. It wasn’t even a question of if she would work or not. I’d already taken her out of her hometown. I would never take away her dreams.
“April called. She and Gil are planning a trip to Napa and spending a few nights with us first. Oh, and I spoke to Willa this afternoon,” she adds. “We shared her morning coffee and a doughnut via FaceTime. She’s moving in with Ryan.”
“I heard. Big step for them as a couple.”
“I’m trying to get them to move out here. I’ve already started scouting possible openings in my school for next year. I hear one of the second grade teachers is retiring.”
I consider the possibility of Ryan and Willa moving out here. The financial forecasting jobs are better in New York but getting our crew to the city would be awesome. “I’d really enjoy having Ryan around. He could help me keep Chris in check. He took my assistant out tonight.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
No, but … “Crazier things have happened, like sexy little blondes following strange men, who have kissed them in the bar, down to the subway.”
She smiles and then pulls me in for a kiss. Well, it’s more like a make-out session. I love making out with my wife.
“I have big news,” I say as I kiss her jaw.
She thrusts her hips against my groin. “Yeah, you do.”
I drop my head into her shoulder to bite it. She lets out a screech, and I laugh as I lean back and tell her, “You’re looking at a thirty-three-point-three-three-three-three—a millions threes—percent owner of Sexton Media.”
Her icy-blue eyes widen, and her jaw drops at the news that my brothers and I have finally won back Missy’s shares.
“Way to bury the lede! You should have walked in the door with that announcement! So, it’s over?”
“It’s over. Father’s shares reverted back to us after his death, and we were just awarded Missy’s today. Bryce, Austin, and I are now one hundred percent owners of Sexton Media. And, no, it’s not for sale.”
“That’s for damn sure. That’s amazing news and definitely worth celebrating. I have some exciting news of my own.”
She wraps her foot around my ass and pulls me in closer. I grind into her and listen as a moan escapes her lips. My girl tends to get easily distracted.
“What kind of news?”
“The Tanner and Harper Sexton Charity Endowment just gave out its first grant.”
After Harper’s apartment sold, we were thankful when Aaron left of his own accord, and we didn’t have to move forward with an eviction. Last she heard, he had moved in with that woman, Nicole. Despite it all, Harper wishes him happiness. I happen to wish him baldness and a fat lip. We agree to disagree.
What we do agree on is, what she did with the money from the sale of her apartment. The Tanner and Harper Sexton Charity Endowment will make food, clothing, and school supplies available to underprivileged children in Harlem. It will survive off earned interest with Harper and I running the back end for as long as we live.
I fought her on the name, thinking it needed to be in her name only. What she doesn’t know is that the building she hates so much, the one I painted the
mural on, is up for sale. Bryce is helping me purchase it as a gift for Harper. I’d like to make it the Harper Sexton Community Center for Boys and Girls. My goal is to have it named before she has a chance to argue. Well, she can argue a little. She’s cute as hell when she pouts.
“Have I ever told you how amazed I am by you?” I kiss her body over the form-fitted T-shirt she’s wearing. “By your passion.” I nibble her breasts. “Your dedication.” I lift her T-shirt to kiss her belly button. “Your wit.” I pull down the top of her jeans and lick the smooth, forbidden skin. “Your fearlessness.” I settle my mouth over her groin and take a bite.
She moans loudly as I skim my hands up the sides of her ribs and pull my body along with them, settling right back into my favorite place in the world. “I love every inch of you, Harper Sexton. And I damn well plan to show you every second of every damn day.”
Her arms wrap around my neck as her fingers tangle through the ends of my hair, using my body to get the friction she desires. “Show me now.”
My cock twitches. “How much time do we have before everyone comes over?”
“Not a lot. Twenty minutes maybe?” She pants.
I press my hips against her, eliciting the sweetest moan. “That’s not enough.”
“We could be fast.” Her mouth pouts.
See? Fucking adorable.
I suck on her neck and trace kisses down to her collarbone. “Tonight, once they’re all gone, I have edible paint I plan to use to paint you from tip”—I tug on a very pert nipple—“to toe.” I slide my hand down her leg, feeling the inside of her thigh and running it down her calf.
“Tease,” she groans and rubs her body against me one more time, eliciting a little shiver.
With a kiss to her lips, I pull back and smile. “But you love me anyway.”
“Forever.”
Rising from the couch, I grab her hand and pull her up. I follow her into the gourmet kitchen I dreamed we’d have.
We looked at places all around San Francisco, including Marin and Berkeley, but she wanted to remain in the heart of the city, just like we were in New York.
First, we found a cute flat in the Mission District that has recently turned into an artistic mecca for the city. The apartment is very reminiscent of my studio in New York, painting wall and all. When I told her I wanted a house where we could raise a family, she laughed, saying the flat was for a new art studio … for both of us. A secret lair. A place we can go when we want to run away from the world. She said the night she went crazy, painting with her entire body, saved her life. I know it saved mine, so I agreed. Little does she know, I don’t ever want to hide away again.
So, now, we have the art flat in Mission and this townhouse in Cow Hollow with four bedrooms that I plan to fill—and quickly.
“Smells good in here,” I say as she stirs the sauce.
I’m not lying. Wafts of garlic and Italian spices fill the air.
“It’s your recipe. Charlie asked for a spaghetti and meatballs birthday dinner. Well, actually, first, he asked for Chinese food, but Tessa said she can’t do the sodium right now because her ankles swell, so he said Italian would be fine.”
“Did you pick up the birthday gift?” I ask her as I grab a bottle of pinot noir from the wine rack.
She takes out a pot for the water. “It’s the biggest Lego set they had. Bryce is going to work on that with him for a week. Is Austin bringing the cake?” she asks.
“Yes. Avengers-themed. Decorations?”
She nods toward the corner where a plastic bag sits on the floor. I open it up and start setting the table for an Avengers-themed birthday party. Being that Charlie will be the only kid at his birthday dinner probably means we can calm down on the kid decorations, but none of us would have it any other way.
This little boy has become the love of our lives. Having his innocence around reminds us of the George Bernard Shaw quote, “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
At the end of the day, we’re all just children pretending to be adults.
I’m blowing up the last balloon in the pack when the doorbell rings. I walk to the front door where Harper has nailed a yellow picture frame around the peephole. It’s her homage to Friends. I open the door.
“It’s party time!” Austin comes barreling into the house with a sheet cake in his hands. It can easily feed forty people.
Jalynn is behind him with a bouquet of Mylar balloons, shaking her head. “You left the wrong person in charge of the cake. I told him to get one for seven people. He came back with that thing.”
Austin puts the large box on the dining room table. It’s decorated to the nines with every Avenger’s face on the white icing.
“What kid doesn’t want more cake on his birthday? Besides, they couldn’t fit Scarlett Johansson’s boobs on the small one.”
Jalynn hits him in the stomach. “We don’t need breasts on a seven-year-old’s birthday cake.”
“I didn’t see anyone complaining when Tessa put Henry Cavill’s entire body on last year’s cake. He was rather endowed in that image if you ask me.” Austin raises his brows to Jalynn, who snickers beside him.
“Fine. Whatever. Cake looks great. Boobs and all.” She rolls her eyes and then gives me a hug. “Hi, Tanner. Thanks for hosting.”
Jalynn gives great hugs. She says it’s because she was deprived of them as a kid, so she’s trying to make up for it as an adult. I give her a squeeze and slap hands with my brother.
When I see his Batman T-shirt, I frown. “He’s not an Avenger.”
“Yeah, but I am Batman.”
Jalynn has on a Black Widow T-shirt, and Harper is wearing an Iron Man fitted tee. I run upstairs to change. Austin might be Batman, but I’m Thor, and he’s so much cooler than the rest of them. I mean, he has a hammer. He kinda makes me want to grow my hair out again.
When I come down in my jeans and T-shirt, Harper and Jalynn are gawking over Jalynn’s engagement ring. Austin proposed on the rooftop of the Sexton building. He spread hurricane lanterns along the perimeter and had hundreds of red roses in illuminated vases all over the place. Bryce helped keep Jalynn away from the office while everything was being set up, and I painted the floor to look like it was scattered in rose petals, leading Jalynn from the rooftop door to where Austin was waiting for her in a suit and tie.
He got down on one knee and gave her our mother’s ring. I might have taken our father’s wedding band, but Austin has Mom’s rings. When he asked Bryce and me if we minded Jalynn wearing it, we didn’t even hesitate. In fact, we’re honored to have it on her hand.
The bell rings again, and I look at the clock, happy Bryce didn’t stay at the office much longer. Austin opens the door, and Bryce comes in with Charlie on his back.
“The man of the hour is here!” Bryce bellows, shaking Charlie, who laughs wildly.
Austin points to Bryce’s and Tessa’s Superman T-shirts. “See, they’re not wearing Avengers either.”
Charlie shakes his curly red hair in disappointment. “I tried to talk them out of it, but they refused to listen.”
I laugh as I take Charlie off Bryce’s back and sling him over mine. “Come on, Captain America. It’s time to turn seven in style!”
I throw him down on the couch and give him his birthday punches, followed by a ton of tickles. The kid’s got a great laugh.
Tessa puts her bag down and rubs her large stomach. She’s seven months pregnant with a little girl. “You have no idea how hard it was to find a Superman maternity shirt. If you look, it actually says Super Mom.”
I walk over and kiss her hello. My sister-in-law is absolutely glowing. She and Bryce married over the summer at the Tahoe house. Her hand is glistening with a massive diamond Bryce gave her.
Like Harper and me, they didn’t want to wait to get married. A small wedding with friends and family was what they desired. Austin and I served as groomsmen, and Charlie was the best man. Tessa’s best friend
, Abby, was the maid of honor with Jalynn and Harper as bridesmaids. Tessa’s mother performed the ceremony, and then we all got drunk and danced until two in the morning. It was a fantastic day.
I walk over to Bryce, who is fawning over Tessa. He acts like she can’t walk without his assistance. It’s a miracle he lets her go to work or function at all while he’s not by her side.
“Harper and I are going to the Museum of Modern Art tomorrow. You want to join us?” I ask.
Tessa looks like she’s about to cry. She’s been doing that a lot lately. “Aw. That’s where we met!”
Bryce kisses her neck. “Best day of my life. We can go if you want, but Charlie and I have a Cub Scout event at the park.”
“Bryce is the new Scout leader, so he can’t be late or leave early,” Charlie chimes in.
“You’re the Scout leader?” Harper asks, coming up to my side.
I put an arm around her shoulders and pull her in.
Bryce shrugs as he tucks his hands inside his pockets. “The old leader took a new job, and his hours don’t allow him to be available. No one else would do it, so …”
Tessa smiles. “This big softy nearly bulldozed all the other parents to do it. Don’t let him fool you. Bryce loves the Scouts.”
“Almost as much as you love Henry Cavill,” Charlie says.
She shoots her son a look. “My love for things comes in this order. You, your sister, Bryce … and then Cavill.”
“You love me third most?” Bryce quirks a smile at her. When she tilts her head at him and drops her shoulders, he laughs and then kisses her on the lips. “Can’t argue. I love this little lady already.” He leans down to kiss Tessa’s stomach and then spins on his heels toward Charlie, who is still on the couch. “And no one is better than my boy!” Bryce lifts Charlie into the air like he’s flying and soars him into the kitchen.
I place a hand on Harper’s stomach and look into her eyes. She’s ten weeks pregnant with our first child. We’re waiting until she visits her dad to tell him the news, and then we’ll tell everyone else.
Tanner: A Sexton Brothers Novel Page 30