by Nikki Ash
“Dinner is almost ready, and this one just got her bath.”
“How did you manage to do all of this? I’m only, what, an hour later than usual?”
“I left the office early. I know you’ve had a long week with your patient load, and I wanted to take some of this off your plate. I know you’ve been missing your snuggle time with dinner and bath each night getting home later, so we did it all before you got here.” I step toward her and slide my arm around her waist, pulling her into me and kissing her softly. “Sit. I’ll make you a plate.” Hazel is already reaching for her mom, so we make the switch, and I turn to walk away.
“Trev?” she calls out. There’s a quiver in her voice.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
The room stills, but my heart keeps on beating like a bass drum in my chest. In two long strides, I’m standing in front of her. Cradling her face in the palm of my hands, I stare into her eyes. “I love you. So fucking much,” I say, kissing her.
I take my time tasting her, showing her with my kiss how much she means to me. Pulling out of the kiss, I press my forehead against hers. We both laugh when Hazel mimics us. “I love you too,” I tell our daughter.
I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to tell her, and this moment, it’s another one to add to my long list of unforgettable. That’s how it should be. Every other memory is them. My girls and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Epilogue
Five years later
Cadence
“Come here, you little bugger.” I run after my daughter, who is crawling all over the place, and scoop her into my arms.
“She likes the extra space.” Trevin laughs.
“This is overkill, Trevin. Why do we need a five-bedroom house?”
“For the kids?”
“We have one kid.”
“But we’re going to have more. Trust me. We’ve been practicing. I think the odds are in our favor.” He smirks.
He’s not wrong. It’s been six months since the day I walked into Thea and Scott’s apartment and saw him holding our daughter. Six months of happiness and love. So much love. We’ve been living in my two-bedroom apartment until today, when Trevin and I signed the loan papers to purchase our first house. We have been looking for a while, and nothing screamed home to us. Not until we found this place. It just so happens to be only two miles from the house that Scott and Thea moved into two months ago. They wasted no time purchasing a bigger place when they learned they would be adding to their family. He wanted a house. Hell, he wanted to buy one as soon as he moved back to town. It was my insistence that we take some time before jumping into anything that kept him from it. As soon as his house in Lexington sold, he was a man on a mission. We looked at maybe a couple of dozen before deciding on this one. I thought it was too big. Trev said it was perfect. I admit it’s gorgeous, but it’s huge compared to our apartment.
“Just wait until she starts walking. Scott was telling me how Clint is into everything these days. They found him on the bathroom sink covered in shaving cream the other day.” Trevin laughs.
“Stop,” I tell him, barely containing my own laughter. “You’re going to jinx us.”
“No way, not our angel,” he says, taking Hazel from my arms. He blows on her belly, making her cackle with laughter.
“Where do we start?” I ask, looking around at all the boxes.
“One box at a time. We’re both off this week, and Thea said she would keep Hazel even though we’re not working, so we can bust it all out. However, right now, I want to show you something.”
He holds his hand out for me and leads me down the hall toward the first-floor master suite. Pushing open the door, he motions for me to walk in first. When I step into the room, I gasp at what I see. There are hundreds if not thousands of rose petals spread out on the gray hardwood floor. Candles, which appear to be operating on batteries instead of actual flames, are placed around the room as well.
I turn to look at him and find him kneeling on the floor, Hazel still on his hip. “Mommy, we love you,” he says, glancing down at Hazel. “You take care of us and have given us, given me my reason for living. I can’t imagine my life without either of my girls. What do you say we make this forever thing official? We want you to be a Hubbard with us,” he says, as he offers an open tiny blue box, with a diamond ring sparkling at me.
I don’t need to think about it. “Yes.” I walk to where they are and kneel with them. He places Hazel on the floor, and she crawls away.
“That’s why I chose the battery candles.” He shakes his head, watching our daughter before turning those hazel eyes on me. His lips capture mine, and time seems to stand still as I process the fact that this man just asked me to marry him.
“We’re getting married,” I murmur against his lips.
The smile he gives me lights up his face. Pulling the ring out of the box, he slides it on my finger. “I love you, future Mrs. Hubbard.”
“I love you too.”
He looks around me to check on Hazel. “No, baby girl. We don’t eat flowers,” he says, standing to grab her and take the rose petal she was trying to shove into her mouth.
I smile at them and look back at my ring.
A lifetime of this is exactly what I want. Trevin is no longer a memory; he’s my heart, and he’s my future.
Trevin
As I sit here on the back deck, nursing a beer holding my son, I can’t help but reflect on my life. A chance meeting at a club. An attraction that was undeniable led me here to where I am today. Hazel cackles with laughter as Cadence chases after her, our middle daughter Violet doing her best to catch up with them.
Cadence drops to her knees in a pile of leaves, our daughters doing the same and their laughter of my girls fills my heart. Connor stretches his little arms and legs, but stays resting against my chest. He’ll be three weeks old tomorrow. I missed all the pregnancy moments with Hazel, so when we found out we were pregnant with Violet, I made sure I didn’t miss a single second. Nothing changed when we found out we were pregnant with our little man. There is nothing better in this life than watching the woman you love grow with a child that the two of you created out of the love that you share.
Nothing better.
The fall leaves blow through the air, and as the sun begins to set, I know I need to get Connor inside. Standing, I grab my half-empty bottle of beer to do just that, but the Hubbard girls race to the back deck, and two sets of little arms are wrapping around my legs.
“Hey, handsome.” Cadence rises on her toes and kisses me. “I see he’s still snoozing.”
“He is.” She places her hand over mine that’s resting on Connor’s back.
“Daddy, can we have a piggyback ride? Please?” Hazel asks.
“Pwease?” Violet, at three, mocks her older sister.
“Hand him over, Hubbard. You know you can’t resist them.”
“It’s not just them I can’t resist.” I bend down and kiss her again. No matter how many times my lips are pressed against hers, it will never be enough. Not in this lifetime, and not the next. I crave her.
“Eww, Daddy, stop kissing Mommy.” Hazel pulls on my jeans.
“Oh, I think someone needs the tickle monster after that.” The words barely leave my mouth before my daughters are screeching with pure joy and racing into the house to hide.
“I love you, Trevin Hubbard.”
“I love you too, Mrs. Hubbard.”
Between the Lines by Micaela Smeltzer
Chapter One
Alba
The cheery chime signaling my entrance is an odd contrast to the tattoo shop I’ve walked into.
My tattoo shop, I remind myself like every time I step inside.
I worked hard to purchase the shop and put my personal touch on it like the black walls with silver glitter in them, the shiny red leather couches, the art—skulls made out of roses—, and all the mirrors and chrome accents.
I used to spend mo
re time here than at home and I wanted this to be a place I felt comfortable.
Lowering the leather bag slung over my shoulder to the ground, I don’t have a chance to straighten up when one of my employees, and now a really good friend, shrieks and comes running toward me with grabby hands.
At only four-foot-nine, Astrid is a tiny pixie next to me at my height and chubby body. Her maroon-colored hair is cut bluntly at her chin with bangs straight across her forehead. The silver ring in her left nostril reflects in the light and her tank top highlights her full sleeve of flower and butterfly tattoos on each arm.
“Give me that baby.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to answer before she snatches the baby from my arms.
My daughter, Dahlia, starts to cry at first but when she sees who it is she instantly quiets. At only four months old I swear there’s more intelligence in her eyes than most adults. The blue-gray shade of those eyes is all her father, a constant reminder of the man I haven’t seen in over a year now.
Travis Alexander left town as quickly as he rolled into it. Suddenly and without a word.
Peeking out the window, his tattoo parlor stands right across the street. A constant reminder of not only what a pain in the ass he was, but the fact that he has a child he doesn’t know about.
When he first left town the day after we hooked up, I didn’t let it bother me. We all have our secrets after all, but when my period didn’t show I eventually took a pregnancy test and did try to contact him.
I sent numerous texts telling him to get back to me, that it was important.
All went unanswered.
In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to care. He was my rival—not only in business but in art too. I could hate his guts all I wanted but the guy was a talented tattoo artist.
I’m better, though.
My eyes widen at the old black Harley Davidson sportster parked out front.
It wasn’t there when I walked in, but the owner is gone now.
“There’s no way,” I mutter more to myself than for anyone else to hear.
“What?” Astrid strides over and glances out the window. Her mouth parts and she looks at me with wide panicked eyes, ones that I’m certain mirror my own.
“Alba,” she gasps my name, “that’s his bike.”
“I know.” I wet my lips and turn away from the window. Maybe if I don’t look at it the motorcycle will disappear.
“What are you going to do?” She has to nearly jog to keep up with me, Dahlia giggling in her arms as she bounces up and down.
Walking behind the desk and looking at the sticky notes scrawled on with things for me to go over before the day starts, I wait a moment before I answer her. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” she repeats, taking a seat on one of the couches. “But … but … I mean … he’s her dad.”
Astrid is the only person besides my mother who knows who Dahlia’s father is. Not that I’m ashamed of Travis, because I’m certainly not. At least when he left town he was a good-looking, successful guy. Who knows what he might have gotten into now?
I look up from one of the notes telling me to call back a Linda with no explanation as to why I’m calling her. “Yeah, and I’m sure he’ll disappear again by the end of the day.”
Astrid blinks at me, uttering a quiet, “What if he doesn’t?”
I give the smallest shrug of my shoulders. “Then I’ll figure it out.”
The thing about keeping a secret like this is the longer you keep quiet the harder it becomes to say anything.
Sorting through the mail, I try to ignore Astrid standing up and looking out the window searching for a peek at Travis.
“Don’t you wonder why he disappeared?”
“No.”
Yes.
Of course I do. I’m human. We’re curious by nature. Anyone that says they’re not is a liar.
Astrid makes a sound that I know means she thinks I’m full of shit.
She’d be correct.
“Oh, ew!” She exclaims suddenly. “Someone made a stinky and that’s mom duty not fun auntie’s job.” She scurries over to me and holds the baby out. “Take her.”
I shake my head and scoop my daughter up, who does smell like literal shit.
When I found out I was pregnant I made a space for her in my office—a changing area, crib, and even a small space where she can sit and play as she gets bigger.
I didn’t plan on ever becoming a mom. It wasn’t something I felt I wanted and I was content to never have children. Life had other plans for me. I wouldn’t take Dahlia back for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and it might be silly, but even when I’m tired and exhausted from dealing with a cranky baby I still crawl into bed at night and say thank you that the universe realized I needed her when I didn’t know it.
“Is someone smelly?” I kiss her round pink cheek and she giggles, reaching for my hair. “Nice try missy.” I grab the dyed black strand before she can and toss it over my shoulder. I’m not fond of the hair pulling stage and I’m dreading the day she tries to get ahold of my nose ring.
In my office I lay her down on the changing mat and clean her up, tossing the diaper in the trash. Snapping her plain white onesie back into place I smother her in more kisses, repeating over and over how much I love her and that she’s the prettiest girl in all the land. The way she giggles I take to mean she approves of the sentiments.
I settle her into her crib for her morning nap. Almost immediately her tiny mouth seeks out her thumb and her lids grow heavy. Thank God she’s finally sleeping well. The first three months were tough with tummy issues that usually resulted in screaming throughout the whole day and an inability to go to sleep. Luckily my mom was there to help out during those months and my doctor gave me advice on how to help her with her gas.
Easing the door closed behind me, I walk back out to the front. “Astrid, can you give me those notes off the counter? I’m going to start making some calls.” Silence. “Astrid?”
I round the corner and stop dead in my tracks.
Travis Alexander stands at the counter, leaning casually against it. Despite the summer heat he wears a leather jacket over a white wife-beater. Black jeans hug his long lean legs, ripped at the knees, with his black boots rounding out the look. Straightening to his full height, he smirks at me. Those sinfully full lips turning up at the corners. The tattoos on his neck beg my eyes to take a peek, but I remind myself I spent an intimate night tracing the shape of them.
“Alba.” My name is a purr on his tongue.
I straighten, tugging my t-shirt down to hide the shaking in my hands. “Travis.”
He walks toward me but stops with at least four feet separating us.
Across the room Astrid is making all kinds of faces and eyes where he can’t see, silently urging me to just blurt out to him that his child is sleeping a few feet from here.
After I never heard back from him, I fully expected he was out of my life for good. His shop stayed open, but I assumed he sold it to someone else.
Stupid assumption now I see.
Silence fills the space and I curse myself for not at least turning on my playlist because I hate quiet like this. It’s the kind of quiet that’s so loud it hurts.
Tilting his head to the side, he wets his lips. “I’m back.”
I blink. Blink again. I’m back. That’s all he has to say after over thirteen months.
“I see that.”
“Thought you should know.”
Turning, he swipes a pen off the counter. My favorite pen. The one that’s black with red lips on it. He tucks it behind his ear and looks back at me before opening the door. He doesn’t say anything, only winks like the annoying bastard he is.
“Give me my pen back,” I demand.
“Nah. I like playing games with you too much.”
He pushes the door open, checks for traffic, and strides back across the street to Timeless Ink.
“Wow,” Astrid g
asps. “The chemistry. The sexual tension.” She pretends to shiver. “If that’s what it’s like when you guys have clothes on please let me watch the next time you guys have sex.”
My mouth drops open and she giggles. “There’s not going to be next time, and if there was, the answer is hell no.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, hun, if you witnessed what I just did—” she flicks her finger where I am and Travis was mere seconds ago “—you’d know there’s not just going to be a next time, but a lot more times. Like a whole lifetime’s worth.”
“You’re delusional.” I grab the notes I need from the counter, shaking my head in disbelief. My freaking pen. I want it back.
“No, babe,” she calls after me as I head for my office, “you are.”
Chapter Two
Travis
I twist the pen back and forth between my fingers, again and again, my eyes memorizing the shape of the red lips decorating the glossy black surface. Red lips that remind me so much of the color and shape of Alba’s. I can see why she likes this pen so much. Aesthetically, it’s her.
It’s pathetic how much the dark-haired beauty has been on my mind since I first moved to town and how she stayed there, rooted deep, even when I had to leave.
Even now, I’m sitting here thinking about her when I should be focused on reacquainting myself with my business and calling old clients to let them know I’m back. Sure, as the owner I have plenty of other responsibilities as well, like bills and bookkeeping, and monotonous things that drive me up a wall. All I really care about is the art, but I started my own shop so I could do things my way.
“You know, it’s no good having you back if all you’re going to do is sit there and look like a decoration.” Jessie, the manager, flicks my forehead as she passes by me where I sit on a stool in the breakroom. She bends down and grabs a bottle of water from the minifridge. “I know you have a lot on your mind but go home and think about it. You don’t have to come back here yet.”