Come Back to Me_A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Vivien Vale

  “If the perfect woman asked me to, I might,” he says quietly, giving me a look to tell me that it’s me he’s talking about.

  But I’m not sure if I could ever ask that of him, not when these mountains are so peaceful and beautiful.

  “But out here has everything I need. If she wanted to stay with me, there’d be schools and opportunities in town…” He continued.

  “When the road isn’t blocked,” I tease.

  “What about you? Could you live somewhere like this?” Boone asks.

  “I travel a lot for my art.” I say, thinking aloud. “So these days, home isn’t a place. It’s more like a feeling…home is where my family is.”

  I tuck a strand of sodden hair behind my ear and look at him.

  Home is where you are, my mind screams at me. But I’m scared to say it.

  But I think Boone understands.

  When we’re both clean, we step out of the shower. The towels are warm from the heater, and when Boone wraps one around my body, it suddenly hits me how tired I am. The nights of little sleep and rigorous sex have made me all but exhausted.

  I hear the pitter-patter of little feet in the hallway before Boone does, so when Amelia gently pushes open the door, I’m immediately in front of her, waiting. She reaches for me, taking a lock of hair in between her fingers. Boone hovers close behind, both of us anxiously waiting.

  “I had a bad dream…” Amelia mumbles, bleary-eyed still. “Can you come cuddle?”

  I take her hand and stand up. “Of course, darling.”

  “No,” Amelia pauses and with her spare hand, points at Boone. My heart flutters slightly. “Both of you.”

  She’s all but demanding, and who are we to say no?

  “Of course I will, princess.” Boone says and smiles at me warmly. “You and mommy pop back to bed. I’ll be along in a second.”

  I walk down the hall towards the bedroom.

  Cuddling with Amelia and Boone?

  That’s my idea of heaven.

  Boone

  I think I’m about to tear up, and that’s fucking saying something.

  How lucky am I? Only a month ago I was out here in the wilderness on my fucking own. All I had left of the love of my life were memories.

  Not that I’m a betting man, but if I had been, I would have put the entire family fortune on me never seeing Margot again. Boy, I would have lost big time, and it would have fucking been worth it.

  Even though I’ve retreated from the world as I know it, I understand humans aren’t meant to be alone. I mean we should be with someone. But when Margot left, I knew I’d never find any other woman to replace her.

  Actually, I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone else. I had made my choice and was going to stick with it.

  If not Margot, then no one else would do.

  And now, here I am standing in my cabin in the middle of nowhere, feasting my eyes not only on the woman I love, but also our daughter.

  My heart beats a little faster as I caress Margot with my gaze. She and Amelia look so gorgeous in their oversized flannelette shirts borrowed from me.

  Amelia’s shirt is so big on her it’s like her own tent. Seeing her in this huge piece of material makes her appear quite fragile. I want to just go over and wrap my bear arms around her.

  It hits me like an out of control truck hits a brick wall. Love is such an overpowering emotion, and it’s dangerous. All I can think of is wanting to make sure no harm comes to either of them.

  I lost Margot once before; I can’t bear to lose them both ever again. Just thinking about both of them no longer in my world has dark clouds settling over me.

  My eyes drift from my daughter to Margot. I love uttering those words in my head. My daughter.

  It feels fucking amazing. She’s so pretty, so delicate, so wonderful, and just so perfect it seems hardly possible I had a part in creating her. Someone like me...created someone like that.

  “You coming, or have you grown roots there?” Margot teases as our eyes meet.

  I shake my head. “I’ll just be a minute. I’ve still got to change.”

  “I’m tired, Mommy,” Amelia says, snuggling into her mother with a yawn.

  “Hop into bed already, I’ll just be a minute,” I say.

  Normally I don’t wear pajamas to bed, even in winter. I definitely prefer to sleep in the nude. But I don’t think this would be a good idea with the three of us in bed.

  It takes me less than a minute to return.

  Margot and Amelia are snuggled under the covers, and I see the little girl’s eyes flutter. Her eyebrows arch upward in an attempt to stay awake.

  It looks so cute I just want to go over and plant little fatherly kisses on her and wish her good night.

  “Here he comes,” Margot says, lifting the covers. “Breathe in, sweetheart. It’s about to get tight.”

  “Hey,” I grumble as I slide in beside Margot. “Are you suggesting I’m fat?”

  “Mommy,” Amelia pipes up, “can I be in the middle?”

  Margot shoots me a look, and I nod.

  “Sure, princess.”

  A little foot kicks me in the lower abdomen as Amelia scrambles between us.

  It’s the most wonderful feeling I’ve ever experienced.

  “Comfy?” I fluff the pillow up a little for her, and she nods.

  “This way I won’t have my bad dream.”

  Margot props up on her elbow, and I see the alarm in her eyes.

  “What bad dream, sweetie?”

  The little girl looks from her mother to me and back again.

  “It starts with me in my room, in my bed on my own.”

  I watch Margot brush some loose strands of hair from the little face.

  “And then something wakes me up. I see eyes. They’re not very nice eyes. Not like Boone.”

  The little face turns toward me. Her lips curl up into a shy little smile.

  It’s my turn to run my hand over her hair.

  “The eyes are like the ones the bad man in the woods has.”

  I hear Margot inhale sharply.

  “Then there’s a fire and I can’t get out.”

  It breaks my heart to hear this story. How can I help make it go away?

  “You know something, sweetie?” Margot begins.

  Amelia turns toward her.

  “I once was in a room, and there was a fire.”

  “What happened, Mommy?”

  Margot shoots me a conspiratorial glance.

  “Well, I didn’t have to worry because Boone was there to rescue me.”

  Amelia’s eyes widen, and she looks at me.

  “And you know what, sweetie?”

  “What, Mommy?”

  “He’ll keep you safe the way he kept me safe.”

  To emphasize her words, I wrap my arms around the two of them and pull them close to my heart. All at once I know things can’t get better than this. This moment is perfection personified.

  I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long I feel like pinching myself to make sure it’s real. I can’t bear to think of something bad happening to either of them.

  Amelia snuggles her head into my chest. Margot smiles at me.

  “So, you’ve known Boone for a while,” Amelia mumbles, and I watch her eyelids flutter again.

  She says it with the wisdom little kids often display.

  Up until now, Margot had never mentioned we’ve known each other before. Being the smart kid Amelia is, she’s worked it out from the story; she’s connected the dots.

  “Mommy...” she begins, although she’s barely able to keep her eyes open.

  Margot leans over her and kisses her cheek. “Yes?”

  “Is Boone my daddy?”

  Her words grab my heart and squeeze it so tight I fear it might shatter. I feel Margot’s eyes on me. The intensity in them could melt ice. If she wants my approval, she’s got it.

  If it were up to me, I’d be standing on the tallest mountain shouting it out to th
e world.

  If it were up to me, everyone would know that Amelia, this wonderful little girl, is my daughter.

  But I know it’s not up to me. This is big thunder for a kid. And Margot needs to decide when and how to tell her.

  To make sure she knows I’m okay with whatever she decides, I put as much feeling into my look as I can muster. My look is meant to tell her, ‘It’s all good.’ If she doesn’t tell her now, it’s okay. There’ll be another time.

  Margot takes a deep breath, and her hand finds mine under the covers. The gentle squeeze tells me she’s made a decision.

  “Would you like him to be your daddy, princess?”

  Holy shit.

  Perfect strategy.

  Put the ball in Amelia’s court.

  Margot is the perfect parent.

  I look at her with eyes filled with adoration.

  At the same time, I hold my breath as I wait for my daughter’s answer. I won’t take it badly if she says no. I’m more bracing for my reaction if she says yes.

  It seems to take forever for Amelia to respond.

  Her eyes are nearly shut. Maybe she’s asleep already, and we won’t hear what she has to say.

  “Yes, I would,” she mumbles, and about two seconds later her breathing is slow and steady, and I know she’s asleep.

  Her words leave me jumping for joy. But since I’m in bed, and she’s snuggled into my chest and sound asleep, I don’t move a muscle.

  Instead, I watch the emotions on Margot’s face. The way she’s smiling, blowing me a kiss, and then putting her head beside herour daughter.

  Margot seems to be drifting off to sleep pretty quickly as well.

  I, on the other hand, keep my eyes open so I can look at the two most important people in my life for as long as possible.

  As I listen to their rhythmic breathing and stare at their peaceful faces, I know tonight I’m also going to sleep well. Tonight, nothing is going to disturb my world and destroy this feeling of utter contentment.

  Life doesn’t get better than this, I decide, closing my eyes.

  Margot

  I wake up on the edge of the bed, momentarily confused where I am.

  But when I open my eyes and see who I’m sharing the bed with, all is right in the world.

  Sunlight begins to filter through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden rays of light over the bedroom. I watch as one falls over Amelia’s eyes, setting her bright blonde hair aglow with light. But she scrunches her face up and rolls over, pushing her face into Boone’s chest.

  He responds in kind and curls his body slightly to cocoon her, subconsciously trying to make sure that she’s safe.

  Ever the hero, even when sleeping.

  When the quilt begins to move, I notice that even Crockett has climbed into bed with us. He must have been snuggled up by Amelia’s legs like a needy puppy. And when she moves closer to Boone, he too wants to get in on the action.

  I watch Crockett drag his chubby little body closer to my daughter, wedging himself in the middle of her and Boone, resting his head on one of her arms.

  I could never have dreamed my life could be so perfect.

  What have I done to deserve this?

  I’m tempted to roll over and join them, but I’m the kind of person who stays awake once she’s awake. I can’t help myself.

  But I can lie for a little while longer, watching my two angels as they sleep and rest up. I can’t be the only person who thought last night was intense. I bet both of them need their rest.

  I wonder what Boone’s dreaming about.

  Watching him, I get the impression that this is the first good, uninterrupted night’s sleep that Boone has gotten in days—if not weeks. It’s a relief that he’s taken the news of having a daughter and our crash-landing back into his life so easily.

  I would have felt so guilty if our presence had just continued to hurt him in any way.

  But when he thinks that no one can see him, he looks happy.

  He’s cuddling Amelia and Crockett like he is drowning and they are his last life lines. I don’t want to interrupt the three of them, and I feel my stomach begin to grumble, asking for food. Despite how intimately I got to know the pantry, I’m still not entirely sure what Boone keeps down there.

  But I’ll bet there’s something I can use to rustle up a special breakfast—as Amelia likes to call it.

  I can’t help but wonder what Boone will make of it. He doesn’t instantly strike me as the type of guy who would enjoy blueberry waffles with maple, chocolate, or—sometimes and—strawberry syrup, alongside fresh fruits styled in the shape of a face.

  Yeah, I don’t imagine he’s the kind of man who likes super sugary breakfasts, but he and I know that it’ll put a smile on Amelia’s face, so really, it’s all worth it.

  I climb out of bed, ready to head downstairs. But before doing so, I cast one lingering look at my family—whole again.

  In the past couple of days, Boone’s gone from having no one to having a whole family—if he chooses to have it. My mind flashes back to Amelia’s question last night—she’s clearly besotted with him, and Boone clearly loves her. I’ve always known that Boone Masters would make a great father—if his parents would ever let him live in peace.

  What are they going to do when they find out?

  As if on cue, my phone begins to ring.

  I’m pouring a cup of coffee as it begins to vibrate on the counter. I let it buzz once, twice, debating whether I really want to answer it. It almost feels like talking to anyone from the outside world might break the spell we’re all living in.

  But then I realize it’s my mom, and I have to answer it. I can’t abandon her at brunch and then ignore her phone calls, too. Plus, she might be able to help me.

  “Hi, Mom. I still won’t be able to make it to brunch today.”

  My mom laughs on the other end of the phone.

  “I guessed as much. No, I was just checking in to see how everything’s going.”

  “You mean, how I’m coping being around Boone again?”

  She’s never liked to beat around the bush. Static keeps cutting through her voice, and once again, I’m not sure how long this phone call will last.

  “I just don’t want you to rush into something that could hurt you.”

  I know that my mom means well, but over the past few days, I’ve realized that being without Boone is what hurts the most.

  “Mom, I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to worry.”

  “What does Amelia think about all of this?”

  “Amelia loves Boone, and he adores her. We’re almost like a real family.”

  “So Boone knows she’s his daughter?”

  “Yes, and I think he wants to be her dad.”

  I can practically hear the cogs in my mom’s brain ticking. After our phone call two days ago, I don’t think this is what she was hoping for.

  “I’m happy for you, honey. I really am. But I just want you to be careful. Like I said, when you come back to New York, you’re going to have a chat with your father…”

  The crackling in her voice becomes louder. I don’t think we have much time left.

  “Yes, I know, you said. But what about you, Mom? You can’t keep me in the dark like this.”

  “It’s not my place to tell you, sweetie.”

  I sigh down the phone. For a moment, I don’t care if she can hear my frustration. Why can’t my mom just be happy for me?

  “I just want you to be safe. There was a reason why Boone left New York.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, Mom. He left because of the fire department. He lost his whole team, and the survivor’s guilt just ate him up.”

  “Honey, no—” her voice begins to break and fade though the receiver, “tt-there’s more—”

  “Mom?” I raise my voice slightly and hold the phone closer to my ear. “Mom?”

  But she’s gone. The call cut out, and I’m left alone�
��again—wondering what it is she knows, especially about Boone and the fire department.

  What does my mom know that I don’t?

  I’m certain that Boone told me everything.

  So what does my mom know that he doesn’t?

  I try not to let what my mom said—or didn’t say—play on my mind too much as I walk down into the pantry. Now that I’m not pressed up against it, having one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of my life, I have the chance to be blown away by the amount that Boone keeps.

  I would have thought that, as a bachelor in the mountains, he’d barely keep enough food for himself. But this pantry holds enough to feed the whole town.

  Hopefully, it’ll be enough for Amelia.

  I carry the ingredients back to the kitchen. I even manage to find the unopened box of a waffle iron. I set it up and start to get the plates hot, relieved that I didn’t have to try and remember how to make pancakes instead.

  I’ve almost finished mixing the batter when I hear Boone’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and runs a hand down over his beard to catch the wild, unruly hairs. I watch him as he comes around the corner.

  I dip my finger in the waffle batter, holding it out for him to taste. Boone crosses the kitchen and takes my wrist, holding it as he sucks the batter from my finger, never once breaking eye contact.

  “Good morning,” I say before he places his other hand on the counter behind me, pinning my body against the work surface.

  Then Boone kisses me.

  He holds my cheek in one hand, and I grasp onto his arms as he captures my mouth with his own. I feel myself melting into the kiss, almost wishing he’ll take it further—we have time—and then he pulls away, smirking.

  “Good morning, Margot.” Boone grabs a cup from the cupboard and begins to pour himself a cup of coffee, too. “What can I do to help?”

  “You…you can start cutting up fruits so that Mr. and Mrs. Waffle can have eyes and a nose and a mouth,” I tell him, trying to catch my breath after that kiss.

  Is he going to do that every morning?

  I could live with that.

  By the time Amelia comes down the stairs, all of the sauces and the fruits are ready, arranged on the table for her to see. She’s carrying Crockett in her arms like a newborn baby but drops him the moment she sees the bottle of maple syrup.