The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  After the kiss, I close my eyes and bury my face in his neck, as my husband does as promised, moves Faith to my other breast and maneuvers my nipple into our half sleeping baby’s mouth.

  When he’s finished, and Faith has latched on, he smirks at me, “Like I said, I’m good with your boobs, blue eyes, and I’m not even poking you in the back.”

  I sigh contently as I close my eyes. “Love you, Luke Lane.”

  “Love you, Ava Lane.”

  I wake to aching, milk-filled boobs that need relief. I look beside me and see Faith in the co-sleeper next to the bed. She’s sound asleep. I look to the other side, Luke’s side, and it’s empty.

  The smell of bacon wafts in the air and I begin to sit up, quietly, because my boobs may hurt, but I’m starving, and Faith’s still asleep.

  I look at the clock and see it’s been four hours since she last ate.

  How lucky am I to have Luke let me fall asleep in his arms, while she was feeding in ours? So lucky.

  Four hours of solid, well, near solid sleep, feels like heaven.

  I stealthily shift across the bed to get to the food before the little ones wake.

  As I’m maneuvering, the door opens. Luke raises a finger to his lips to shush me and waves for me to follow him.

  I walk slowly behind him taking him in. His muscular shoulders stretch the white ribbed tank top he must have thrown on this morning. When he turns to look at me, and I see the black ink on his side that reads FAMILY, tears pool in my eyes.

  He looks to where my eyes had just rested and pulls his shirt up. “This?”

  I look into his crystal blue eyes, and he winks. “I have plans to grow this thing even bigger.”

  I bite my lower lip to stifle a smile and hide the fact that I love that he wants a huge family, and I roll my eyes for good measure.

  “One of the best moms I know, Ava. Our children and I lucked out. No need to not bless a dozen more the same way.”

  I gasp at what’s meant to be a compliment but also, hell no. “A dozen, my ass.”

  “We’ll see.” He takes my hand and pulls me behind him into our kitchen toward the island, where two heaping plates of bacon, scrambled eggs with tomato slices and spinach, and orange juice awaits me.

  “You’re the best husband ever.” I smile as he pulls the high back bar stool out for me.

  “You deserve nothing less.” He kisses the back of my head.

  “Well, I just hope I never do anything to make you—”

  “Ava,” he turns my stool so I’m facing him, “I love you. You love me. Nothing has ever or will ever change that. It’s just gonna grow.”

  There are days when I think I don’t deserve his love, his strength… him. But in those moments, verbalized or not, he reminds me that I do.

  I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tight, and remind myself, that fate, will always prevail, the past, can never be changed, and Luke will now and forever be by my side to help me through whatever comes our way.

  “Bacon, Daddy?” I hear Hope’s sweet sleepy voice. Before I even see her, I know her now lightened hair is a mess of curls, and she is carrying the one toy she never puts down. A butterfly net. “I’m starved.”

  She is always saying she’s hungry. And I’m now getting used to it. The first time it reminded me of T, and the fact that he was once hungry, and how when he met Maddox and became successful, he overstocked his cupboards, freezer, and refrigerator.

  Luke kisses me, steps back, and turns to her. “Little Princess, you’ll never starve as long as I’m around.”

  He bends down and lifts her up, hugging her tight and kissing the messy curls on her head.

  She smiles at me and waves the net. I smile back and place my thumbs together and give her butterfly ‘hi’s.’

  “Can I have cookies?” She tries to hide her smirk from me. But she knows as well as I do, she’s got Luke Lane wrapped around her tiny little fingers.

  “Bacon first?” he asks.

  She nods and grins. “Okay.”

  Luke gives her another kiss before handing her off to me and sets out to make her a plate.

  She gives me a big hug, and I hug her back. “Did you have beautiful dreams, Hope?”

  “The best dreams eva.”

  “Chance still asleep?” Luke asks before setting her princess plate next to mine.

  “No, he’s going potty.”

  Luke and I both look at each other and freeze, then seconds later Luke is running down the hall toward their shared room.

  “Where is Chance going potty?” I ask her knowing the answer.

  This summer, Luke, his father Ryan, and my father took it upon themselves to begin potty training Chance by teaching him the joy of peeing on trees.

  “In the tree,” she shrugs as she reaches for a piece of bacon.

  I squeeze her little butt. “And where is your pull up?”

  “In the tree.” She smiles proudly.

  Hope wasn’t pleased that she couldn’t pee like a boy, so she decided it was best to toss her peed in pull up in the tree, and then she proclaimed proudly that ‘Princesses could pee in trees, too.’

  Luke came home that evening with a potty chair that looked like a throne and told her, “Princesses pee on thrones.”

  And that went over like a lead balloon. She is the most stubborn child I have ever met, and as Luke and my father have reminded me often, she is just like me.

  Needless to say, potty training stopped and didn’t begin again until the day after Thanksgiving when we put up our brand new twelve-foot-tall artificial Christmas tree.

  I’m sure most parents would be bothered by this, but they were too young to start training to begin with, and my husband didn’t listen to me, so now, we have a tree with white and blue piddle pads as a skirt, and it has been pissed on more times than I care to admit.

  When Luke comes down the hall, I have to hide my face so Chance doesn’t see me laughing. But there is nothing more hilarious than Luke’s mini on his hip, butt naked, with his Fisher Price tool belt around his waist and a yellow plastic hard hat on his head, while Luke holds Hope’s saturated pull up in his other hand.

  When I finally get it together, I look at Chance and ask, “No pants today, Chance?”

  He shakes his head and stretches out his arms for me.

  I move Hope to one leg and take Chance. “Good morning, my little man.”

  He hugs me. “Love you.”

  I look up at Luke, who rolls his eyes, holding back his own smile as he deposits Hope’s pee-filled pull up in the trash.

  “And I love us.” I hug the twins as I smile at Luke.

  He mouths, “That tree comes down today.”

  And I couldn’t agree more; it is after New Year’s.

  Worst Yet

  Logan

  Standing amongst family, mine and hers, yet still separate because of the hidden truth that we are in fact one, the snow falls heavily from the sky. I should be enjoying myself, but I’m not.

  This past weekend was the worst yet.

  Mom’s getting weaker and weaker every time we visit. I’m dying inside watching Ava hand Faith, my niece, to her grandmother, Luke’s mom Jade, and I realize how little time I’ve spent with her, and how Mom, even in her state is missing the opportunity to hold her granddaughter.

  I look back at Ava who is now walking toward Ryan, Luke’s father who has the kids on a sled, while he sits on the snowmobile waiting to take the three of them up the hill for them to slide down.

  My sister is a great mother, and I know she’s resigned to the fact that she gets it from Dad, and that Mom will never be the same woman who read stories to us every night, or who made sure we had our favorite lunches and cleaned my favorite jersey or spent hours looking for the perfect dress for every prom or formal Ava attended. The fact is, she was sick. I may not agree with the way it went down, but I now understand it. And I promised Mom I’d keep her secret, but in doing so, Ava thinks our mother is subpar. She’s not.
She’s human.

  Dad hands me a cup of coffee and asks, “You okay?”

  I nod, a total contradiction to the truth. I’m a fucking liar to everyone around me except London. And that girl is where I gain my strength from, but all she wants to do is get naked and sweaty, and I’ve avoided that for the entire time we’ve been out of town. Why? Because I’m butthurt. Because I want to make love, and she only wants to fuck?

  Confusion seems to be my constant state. I’m torn, not knowing if I’m already failing as a husband.

  “Let’s get closer to the fire,” Dad says, and I turn and follow him.

  London lifts her hands in the air and flops into the snow, laughing.

  “She’s making snow angels,” Dad laughs as we stand at the bottom of the hill watching London’s antics in the snow

  “She should be doing it naked.”

  When the coffee he’s just taken a drink of flies from his mouth and onto the snow, I realize I didn’t actually whisper the words as I intended.

  I feel my face burn as hot as the fire pit behind me toasting my ass, as he holds back his laugh and looks around the crowd to see if anyone else heard my slip up.

  I shouldn’t give a fuck if Brody, Maddox, or Emma know how much I enjoy being inside my wife… except they don’t know she’s my wife.

  I look to my other side and see Luke Lane, my brother-in-law, holding back a laugh, and all I can do is shrug.

  When Dad looks back at me, he shakes his head and chuckles. He looks at Luke who nods to where Ava is now doing the same damn thing as London, and Luke laughs, “So should she.”

  Dad can only shake his head. “At this point, I’m unphased by the fact that my kids are having sex.”

  Luke laughs, “Your kids? From what Ava said, you left condoms under Logan’s pillow instead of cash when he lost his first tooth. But her—”

  Dad interrupts him, “A chastity belt wouldn’t have worked, not with neighbors like you. And let me remind you she just gave birth to Faith a month ago.”

  I chuckle as I watch London sit up and grab her mom, Emma’s hand and pull her down next to her.

  I glance over as Brody approaches us with a cup of coffee in hand. “Em should be naked.”

  Dad blows an entire mouth full of coffee all over him. Brody’s eyes widen, and he looks really pissed off.

  Dad chokes out, “Sorry, man.”

  Luke and I laugh as Brody gives Dad a tight smile as he pulls a tissue from his black wool coat and wipes his face, where very little coffee ended up, but fuck if it doesn’t make me laugh harder, longer, and it won’t stop.

  When I can’t get a handle on it, I look toward London because it’s fucking embarrassing. She’s sitting up looking at me. Not just her, everyone else too.

  I turn to walk the fuck away, still laughing, and Dad grabs my shoulder.

  “Need a minute.” I pull away and hurry toward the SUV, Betty II.

  I jump inside and start it up. I see London hurrying toward the vehicle, but I can’t fucking face her. When I start to pull away, I know I’ve pissed her off, but I refuse to let her see me lose my shit any more than she already has.

  When a snowball hits the back window, I look back and see Dad next to her. I keep going.

  “Be a fucking man.” I hit the steering wheel as I feel my fucking eyes heat up. I’m still fucking laughing.

  “Christ, pull your shit together,” I yell at myself and hit the steering wheel again.

  This time it hurts, like a motherfucker.

  I cringe when I feel the first tear hit my cheek.

  “What the fuck?” I look in the rearview mirror at a guy who looks just fucking like me, but sure as hell doesn’t act like me.

  I hit the gas, throwing snow behind the tires as I leave the snow-covered, private, dirt road behind me and pull out onto the street, fishtailing as I blink away the fucking shit falling down my face.

  When I finally get to the top of the snow-covered hill, I get out and drop to my goddamned knees and wipe the tears from my face. I wince at the pain that shoots through my hand, pain that I hope soothes, or at least blankets the hurt in my heart.

  “Get it together, Links,” I scream. “Stop being a pussy!”

  I hear my voice echo through the space where pain wasn’t allowed, and neither was being a fucking pussy. A place where I made the right fucking decisions, for the entire team and not just me. A place where all fucking eyes looked at me when in doubt to make a call, to be a leader, a captain, and I wonder where the fuck that guy went.

  He sure as hell would not be sitting on his knees being a little bitch, he’d be winning fucking games.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I yell as I drive my fist into the snow without considering the fact it’s already throbbing.

  “Logan!” I hear my Dad call from behind me, as pain shoots up my arm.

  “Not now, Dad,” I yell as I sniff back tears.

  When he drops to his knees beside me, I look the other way, not wanting him to see me like this. He hasn’t seen me cry since I was a kid.

  His arm wraps around my shoulders, his hand palms the side of my head, and he pulls it against him.

  “When you’re ready to talk—”

  “I can’t, Dad. I just can’t!”

  “Maybe not right this second, but when you’re ready, I’m here to help figure it out.”

  “So fucking stupid.” I sniff back tears and brush my sleeve under my nose.

  “Not stupid, Logan, sometimes you just gotta let it go.”

  “I’m a fucking man,” I huff.

  He pulls me tighter. “Doesn’t make you less of a man, Logan. It’s okay to cry.”

  Instead of his words bringing me comfort, they bring my anger and anxiety to a higher level.

  I stand and pull off my gloves.

  “Jesus L Christ, Logan.” He reaches for my wrist, and I pull it away.

  “I fucking deserved this shit, Dad,” I hold up my throbbing, already purple hand.

  “Logan—”

  “I do! I watch the woman I love making snow angels, and all I can think about is getting her naked? What the fuck is that, Dad? All we do is fuck. All I wanna do is fuck her. And she takes it all from me. Christ, she deserves better than that, better than me!”

  When Dad closes his eyes, letting out a slow, steady breath, I start to open my mouth and it closes shut tight when I hear a British accent say, “You’re damn right she does.”

  “Oh please,” Dad huffs at Brody.

  “He admitted it, Links. Can’t argue that!”

  “I can argue that all fucking night long. Jesus, they go to shows in New York damn near every weekend. When they aren’t doing that, they’re in Jersey visiting Trucker and her sister Keeka—”

  “Alright, you two, that’s enough.” Maddox, the British voice of reason, steps in, allowing me to check out of the conversation.

  I don’t hear another fucking word they say as I walk farther up the hill toward the woods behind the football field.

  Pain

  Luke Lane

  Watching Logan walk away, I know Lucas is oblivious because he’s defending his son, just as I would my boy Chance. Brody is ready to explode because even though I’m sure he knows damn well Logan and London are together… sexually, hearing that your daughter is getting fucked six ways to Sunday has got to be the worst possible thing for a father to hear. I’d explode if I heard anyone say that shit about my girls, Hope and Faith. And Maddox, well, he’s been in the position himself with Harper’s father, Collin, and Brody, when they fell in love.

  I feel the situation is secure enough to follow my brother-in-law, Logan, and make sure he’s okay. Ava would want that.

  I’m smart enough to fall back and give him some space like he clearly needed when he left the family sledding party. But when he drops to his knees, I walk a little quicker.

  Before he sees me, he hears me.

  “For fuck sake, Dad, I just need a minute.”

  “It’s Luke
, Logan.” I walk around in front of him, not crowding him, and sit on a snow-covered stump. “Just gonna chill here with you, away from the rest of them. You want me to leave, I will, but it’ll land my ass on the couch or Ava and the kids at your place.”

  When he looks up at me, I have to stop from visibly cringing. Pain, anger, and confusion all dance behind the blue in his eyes. I’ve seen that look hundreds of times, and not just from the men I served with in the field, but from his sisters.

  “Whatever you’re beating yourself up about, brother, forgive yourself, she already has.”

  “She’ll never forgive me. And I’ll never forgive myself for keeping the secret from her.”

  “London loves you.”

  He shakes his head viciously back and forth. “Ava. Ava will never fucking forgive me, and I won’t blame her.”

  Ava.

  His words blindside me. I know she’s his sister, but she’s my everything. How the fuck does this have anything to do with Ava? Minutes ago, it was about needing to be inside his fiancée too often.

  He stands and swallows hard. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “Okay.” I stand and follow him to the edge of the woods. “You want to head back to that shit show or avoid it?”

  He looks at them, eyes bouncing between Lucas, Maddox, and Brody. His body starts to shake, and his eyes get glassy.

  I snap his name at him hoping it prompts him to focus, “Logan!”

  “I don’t feel too good, man.” his eyes close before his knees start to buckle, and I grab him before he passes out.

  The quickest way to my truck is through them, and right now, I’m definitely looking for the easiest way to get him the hell out of here.

  After he’s situated over my shoulder, I trudge through the snow. When Lucas sees me, he starts running toward me, then the others do too.

  I don’t stop, I keep moving. For a couple of reasons. I’ve just watched him fall, and I am surprised my knee hasn’t given in, it actually feels stronger than it has since the explosion during my last deployment.