by Jana Aston
“When we first got together and I told you about my perfect dream life you told me life wasn’t always that neat.”
He nods.
“You also told me we’d get it right,” I remind him, pointing a finger between us. “Together. So we’re going to get it right, Sawyer. And we can still have spontaneous weekend trips, you know. We might have them at Disney, but we can have them. I’ll give you the kitchen counter sex, that’s probably out from now on. But to be honest, your counters are really hard. I can live without kitchen counter sex.”
He runs a hand behind his neck and nods.
“He is mine, by the way. Jake is. If he’s yours, then he’s mine too.”
“Okay,” he agrees softly, wrapping his arm over my shoulders.
“Where did he come from, Sawyer?” I tilt my head back to look at him, hoping I’m not overstepping my bounds.
“Well, Everly, when two adults take their clothing off, and the male adult sticks a part of his body into the female adult, sometimes—”
“Stop!” I punch him, laughing. “You know what I meant.”
“Rebecca used to work for me,” he says, stepping back and pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “We dated. It was…” He pauses, thinking. “It wasn’t serious. She was convenient for me, if I’m being brutally honest. And I was an opportunity for her.”
“An opportunity how?” I ask, not liking the word.
“She embezzled five million dollars from me and disappeared about a week before Gabe caught onto the missing funds.” He shakes his head. “I can only assume she had no idea she was pregnant when she left, because Jake would have been a much bigger payout for her. Hell, I’d have given her everything for him.” He grips the divider in front of us, circling the carousel, his knuckles white.
“But instead she disappeared and changed her name. I have no idea what her end game was, if she was going to come back at some point looking to exchange him for the charges against her being dropped. I don’t know and she’s not cooperating.”
“But she’s in prison?” I clarify.
He nods, smiling. But it’s a sad smile, rueful. “Federal charges. She got caught on identity theft and tax evasion. They haven’t even added her sentence for the embezzlement yet. Embezzlements, I should say. I wasn’t the only one.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, and I am. The betrayal is so severe, there’s nothing I can say to lessen it.
“The worst part is, I don’t think she even wanted him. From what I can piece together, she only ever spent a few weeks at a time with him before leaving again. Looking for her next mark, I suppose.”
I nod, even though I can’t understand any of that.
“I didn’t want him either.” He says it softly, and I look up, surprised. “At first, when we realized there was this kid, and the timing was lining up to indicate that he was mine…” He shakes his head. “I wanted that DNA test to be negative more than anything.” His lips twist ruefully. “And then I met him, and within a minute I couldn’t imagine how I’d lived even a day without him.”
The carousel stops and we walk hand in hand to the exit, Jake flying out with a smile on his face.
“He’s exactly where he should be, Sawyer.”
Fifty
The following weekend we take him to a paint-your-own-pottery place. When I arrive at Sawyer’s I find a much older woman has replaced the young blonde nanny I spotted with him the week before. I ask Sawyer about it and he explains that Vanessa was one of several nannies and only agreed to come to Philadelphia for a couple of weeks while Alice made arrangements to move from Washington.
“Thank fuck.” I sigh in relief.
Sawyer raises his eyebrow so I elaborate. “Look, I’ve been more than understanding about your young, attractive assistant. But a beautiful young woman living under the same roof as you? It was testing the limits of my incredibly mature and generous nature.”
“You were jealous of Vanessa?” His mouth twitches.
“Um, lemme think,” I say, tapping my lip in pretend concentration. “Yes.”
“Because you’d like to live with me?”
“Maybe.” I mock shrug.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Boots,” he says, pulling me close. “And I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
“What’s that?”
“I own the unit next door. She was staying there. Also, she’s married, hence her need to get back home. And most importantly, she wasn’t you. So none of the rest of it matters.”
“Smooth, Camden.”
He grabs a kiss and sneaks in a feel of my ass.
“Why do you own the unit next store?”
“Why not?” He shrugs. “I bought this place during construction. I didn’t want a neighbor so I bought both the units on this floor. I thought I might eventually need the space for a personal security team. I wasn’t planning on nanny quarters, but there you have it.”
“So Alice is staying there as well?”
“She is,” he says, trailing kisses down my jaw. “Are you jealous of a woman old enough to be my mother?”
“No, actually. I was just wondering how much privacy we’d have later and how sound a sleeper Jake is.”
“Sleeps like a champ.” Sawyer grins.
After we paint pottery—Jake picks a cat and paints it orange, Sawyer and I paint mugs—we return to the condo for Jake’s nap. He falls asleep on the drive home and barely stirs while Sawyer carries him through the parking garage, onto the elevator and into his room.
“How much longer will he nap? I don’t even care if you say ten minutes. I’ll take a quickie,” I say, wrapping myself around Sawyer the second he shuts the master bedroom door closed behind us.
“An hour, at least.” He lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bed. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
I rip off my shirt as he carries me, dropping it to the floor before he lays me out on the bed, his hands immediately unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans. I lift my hips to assist him in sliding the denim down my legs. My panties quickly follow and then he’s on me, flipping my ankles over his shoulders as he inhales me, his arms snaking under my thighs and back over, pinning me open. His thumbs zero straight in, pulling my pussy open while his tongue takes a long, slow sweep up my core.
I buck my hips into his face. I’m so wet I can feel a trail of wetness escape a moment before his tongue cleans it up.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve masturbated to the video on my phone? Of us?”
That was the last time we were together. Over three weeks ago.
“Do you know how many times I’ve masturbated to the memory of that video?” I return, digging my hands in his hair and moving his face where I want it. “Zero. Zero times. Because I have a roommate and a communal bathroom. I’m gonna need you to focus.”
He laughs. I can feel it more than hear it, the vibration driving me that much closer to where I want to be. Then he skips the single finger and gets right to the point with two, thrusting them in with just the hint of roughness that I like, making my back bow and my toes curl. He covers my clit with an open mouth, flicking me with his tongue and pounding me with his fingers until I come.
I loosen my grip on his head and flop back, chest heaving as my pulse slows. Sawyer slides onto the bed next to me, propped up on one elbow, his face relaxed and happy.
“I love you, Boots.” He cups my breast, rolling the nipple between finger and thumb, and it takes me half a second to be ready for more. And to realize he’s woefully overdressed.
“I love you too, but I hate your clothes. Why are they still on?” I question, and then they’re coming off in a flurry of tangled arms and legs until he’s naked and flat on his back. I kneel over him, my knees bracketing his hips as I fist his cock and guide it inside of me, sinking onto him.
We groan together as the length of him slides in to the hilt, the stretch a slight and welcome burn. Then his hands are on my hips, mine overlapping hi
s as he thrusts from below while I control the pace from above, sliding up and down his cock, my tits bouncing with increasing velocity.
I let go of his hands so I can lean forward a bit, bracing my hands on his chest, changing the angle so my clit rubs against him when I rock forward.
We come moments later, my orgasm an instant before his. My pussy pulsing around him sends him over the edge as he grunts his load into me.
I relax onto his chest for a moment before moving myself off of him, and when he slides out of me I immediately notice how much wetter it is without a condom.
“Why did I ever say I didn’t want messy?” I joke. I reach a hand down to touch myself—to touch him on myself, really. “This is so fucking hot.”
“You know that’s going to be leaking out of you for the rest of the day, right?” he asks, placing his hand over mine, rubbing the fluid onto the outside of my pussy.
“This just gets better and better,” I murmur.
His dick looks like it’d like to make another run, but Sawyer glances at the clock on the wall and gets up, walking into the bathroom and returning with a wet washrag.
I blush when he uses it to clean me up.
“Everything we do and this embarrasses you?”
“Just a little bit,” I respond as something crashes nearby.
We’re off the bed and dressed in under a minute, Sawyer out the door seconds before I am.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Jake says as I come upon the crime scene. Half a container of apple juice seeps across the kitchen floor. Jake runs a soggy dishtowel through it. “I clean it up. When we make a mess, we clean it, right, Daddy?”
Oh, God. I squeak and cough into my hand while Sawyer gives me a once-over while trying not to laugh.
“That’s right, buddy.”
“Were you guys having a nap too?” Jake looks up from the floor, eyelashes blinking, and I wonder how many years we have left of his complete unsullied innocence.
Probably not many, but I’m going to enjoy every one of them.
And all the years that follow.
A couple weeks later we do take him to a grocery store, but we skip Whole Foods in favor of the Di Bruno’s on Chestnut. It’s less than a half mile walk from Sawyer’s, which means Jake walks about half of it and gets piggyback rides the remainder of the journey. He’s thrilled to push a mini-cart around the store while we put real groceries inside of it and it makes his whole day when Sawyer lets him swipe the credit card at checkout.
“We forgot the cookies!” Jake stalls, hand in mine just outside the store.
“We bought everything we need for the cookies, I promise.”
A frown mars his brow, the expression so similar to Sawyer’s it’s hard not to laugh. “We did not get cookies,” he tells me, shaking his head back and forth.
“Oh, no, we didn’t buy cookies, Jake. We’re going to make them. It’ll be fun.”
He looks at the bag that Sawyer is carrying doubtfully but allows me to piggyback him home.
After naps for everyone, Jake stands on a chair at the kitchen island and helps me. I measure the ingredients and he pours them in the bowl, concern covering his face with each ingredient.
“This goes in cookies?” he asks, dumping the flour. The eggs get me a worried look and a little sigh. “Are you sure?” He proceeds with the vanilla.
When the first tray of chocolate-chip cookies comes out of the oven his eyes light up and he yells to Sawyer, sitting on the couch, totally within normal speaking range. “We made cookies, Daddy!”
Sawyer strolls over and ruffles his hair, then snags a cookie. “Good job, bud.”
“Magic cookies, Daddy,” he says, eyes wide. “We didn’t cut them.”
Sawyer and I exchange a look over his head, equally confused, until I finally get it.
“He means the tubes of cookie dough you buy at the store,” I fill in as Jake takes off again, coming back with a piece of construction paper that he carefully folds in half before asking for a pencil. I hand him one as I clean up the cookie mess and pop another tray in the oven while Sawyer eyes my ass and answers Jake’s spelling questions.
A few minutes later Jake puts down his pencil and slides the paper over to me. I pick it up. He’s made me a card.
Thanks Everly
for the cookies!!!
next can I have
Mr. pants please!!!
I think the drawing on the front is a bookshelf. I open the card and find the following inside.
no!? yes!!!!!
I determine that he wants another Mr. Pants book. We read them together all the time. It’s a chapter book series about cats and he’s obsessed with them.
I pick up the pencil and circle yes before sliding the card back over. “Of course we can, Jake. Maybe we can go to the bookstore before dinner.”
“He has the entire series,” Sawyer says, leaning over and looking at the card. “The next book isn’t out until June. I keep explaining to him that we have all of them already.”
Shit. I just promised something I can’t deliver.
“Oh, Mr. Pants!” I exclaim, stalling while I think of a solution. “I thought you meant a real cat. My bad!”
The second the words are out of my mouth I realize what I’ve just said. So does Jake because he lights up like I’ve just promised him his own cat. Double shit.
“I’m getting a cat?” His eyes are wide and he drops the card on the counter. “I’m getting a kitty!” And with that he drops the card and takes off down the hall to his bedroom yelling about finding his shoes. He’s back a moment later with his tie in one hand, shoes in the other. “Ready!”
Sawyer just looks at me, shaking his head.
“Well…” I drum my fingers on the granite. “You didn’t really think me as a parent was going to be all smooth sailing, did you?”
An hour later we’re the proud parents of Shaggy, a two-year-old long-haired calico cat. She was still there, in that pet shop on Baltimore, waiting for us. I didn’t expect her to be there weeks later. I thought we’d pop in and see who they had available, but there she was, looking like she’d been waiting her whole life for Jake to show up. Jake’s lip quivered when he was able to pet her for the first time.
“I can keep her for reals?” he’d asked, tears running down his face.
When we get back to the condo, I let her out of the carrier and explain to Jake that Shaggy’s been through a lot, so it might take her a bit to understand that this is her forever home now. Jake nods and tells me that he’s going to call her Mr. Pants.
I agree that obviously, that’s what we’ll call her. Then he runs off dragging a feather toy so Shaggy, Mr. Pants, follows.
“So today went well, I think,” I say, glancing away from Sawyer guiltily.
“Hmm,” he replies, circling the kitchen island towards me, a predatory look on his face.
I squeak and try to outrun him but he’s on me in a second, tickling me while I try and wiggle away, crying mercy.
Jake thinks this is hysterical and joins in, giggling so hard I’m afraid he might pee.
Sawyer lets me free as Jake asks how long I can stay.
“I can stay till your bedtime, bud.” Hopefully a couple hours past, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Are you staying forever too? Like Mr. Pants? Or will you leave sometimes, like a nanny? They leave and take care of other kids. My mom leaves too. I don’t know why.”
“We’re forever friends, Jake.” I want to tell him more, explain how much I love him and that I’d never leave him behind, not for anything or anyone. But I settle on that explanation for now and the frown leaves his forehead and a smile lights up his face, so I think I got it right.
Fifty-Two
“I’m gonna write a book,” I announce to Chloe when I get back to the dorm that night.
“Okay, sounds good,” Chloe says with a yawn as she snaps her laptop shut. “A political thriller? Dorm room cuisine? Wait, I’
ve got it.” She snaps her fingers and points at me. “A guide to Christian courtships?”
“A children’s book,” I advise as I open a blank notebook and a pencil. “About me and Jake.”
“Huh,” she says, climbing into her bed. “For once, that’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“I know. It’s like my entire life has been leading to this moment, don’t you think?” I tap the pencil on my notepad and look up.
“That might be just slightly dramatic.” She holds up a finger and thumb an inch apart to demonstrate. “But classic Everly.”
I work on the book every spare second for a month. Graduation is looming, final exams and papers coming up in every class. Sawyer offers to give me whatever cash I need so I can quit my part-time job at Grind Me, but I tell him no, thank you very much, big daddy. I do ask him if I should get an apartment with Chloe after graduation or not. He says not, but stops short of asking me to move in with him and Jake. Instead he reminds me that he owns the condo next door and the nanny is only using one bedroom, winking as he says it. Time will tell but I think we all know how that’s going to end.
I find a place that will turn your work into a book. So I digitalize everything and hand off Forever Home to be printed. Just one copy. I drew the pictures myself. It’s not the best artwork in the world, but art is subjective, right? It doesn’t matter to me, because the only person it was meant for loves it. We read it together every time we’re together. It’s our story, Jake’s and mine. But at its heart it’s a story about loving the family you put together, piece by piece. That includes nannies and teachers, friends and grandparents. Cats and dogs too. Even goldfish.
A couple of weeks before graduation Sawyer tells me he wants me to attend a work function with him. Something boring about an acquisition and spouses in attendance. I don’t focus on the details other than the when and the what to wear.
He picks me up at school and drives me back to the Ritz-Carlton. I make a production of asking him if he’s made up this business dinner in order to lure me to a fancy hotel room for sex, nostalgic about my outburst on our first date.