“My c**k heard that, baby,” I teased, expecting some kind of sarcastic rebuttal in return. But the thing with Brynne was that she was not terribly predictable. And really f**kin’ quick on the draw with comebacks. So, usually, when I thought I had the upper hand in a verbal sparring? She swooped in and trumped my hand. Did it all the time.
I heard her catch her breath, though. Made me wonder if she was thinking about my cock, and if it was making her consider other things. I sure thought about it, but the reasonable portion of my brain realized she was still healing from a major surgery. I’d just have to wait until she let me know she was ready.
“I am finished here,” she said, abruptly, setting her camera on the table. “And someone is ready for her crib while she sleeps it off.” The baby was lifted away, and then the clack of the door as she left the room told me I was alone.
I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about how changed my life was from a year ago. The man from last year was two months away from receiving Tom Bennett’s email. He was somebody I didn’t even recognize anymore. And thank Christ for that, because I had no desire to ever return to such an empty life.
The door opened again, and in Brynne walked, interrupting my reminiscent ramblings.
Understatement. Of. The. Year.
She stood over me with sexy eyes that looked rather green at the moment, and slowly reached for the hem of her shirt.
I felt the breath empty out of my lungs.
She lifted her shirt up and over her head, and dropped it on the floor. Then she shimmied out of her soft leggings and flung them over her shoulder. Left in nothing but some skimpy pink knickers and a bra, she looked nearly the same as she did before she’d become pregnant, with the exception of her scar and a magnificent set of tits that were even more spectacular now.
I put my hands behind my head and grinned up at her, unable to come up with anything particularly clever or witty to say, but mostly because my mouth went dry when she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.
My beautiful girl let me know, and showed me, yet again, what a rarity I possessed in her love, as she had from the very first.
Rare.
Brynne’s love was something rare—a gift.
A precious gift I’d been given, by some divine twist of fate that had brought her into my world…and changed everything about me. About how I saw things, about what I dreamed for the future, about my capacity to move beyond the shadows of my past.
Brynne’s love changed absolutely everything.
Part Four
SPRING
Take me down, take me down by the water, water,
Pull me in until I see the light,
Let me drown, let me drown, in you honey, honey,
In your love I wanna be baptized.
Daughtry ~Baptized
CHAPTER 20
26th April
Somerset
IT was a simple wedding held in the garden, overlooking the sea. The bride and the groom looked very happy, as they should. I winked at Brynne, admiring how delicious she was in her periwinkle lace. The same dress she’d worn the night of the Mallerton Gala, and now getting double-duty as a bridesmaid. She shot me a wink back, along with one of her sexy half-smiles.
Hannah’s dress was rose coloured, and looking at her reminded me of photographs of my mother. I often wondered what that was like for my father to see in his daughter, the spitting image of his wife, as she would have looked when he lost her. He’d kept his thoughts on the matter private over the years, so I imagined whatever they were, would stay that way.
Today was for celebrating something new, and for that, I was so grateful, because after finding Brynne, and learning what it meant to love someone so deeply, I finally understood the depths of what he’d lost, and why it had taken him three decades to move on to a new love.
Today was that day for my father, and he was able to finally make the move forward…with his lovely Marie.
ONE of my biggest surprises was the dramatic change in someone I had absolutely no hope would ever come around. But, stranger things have happened, I suppose. Didn’t matter on my part, of course, but for Brynne it was critical, and if I was being completely honest, good for my daughter as well.
Watching my mother-in-law holding Laurel captivated on her designer-clad lap, was proof that her heart did indeed beat, and wasn’t made of stone as I would have sworn it was. She looked…like a real grandmother.
She actually sought me out during the reception, which shocked the hell out of me when I least expected it.
“Ethan?”
I turned to meet her inquiry with as neutral a stance as I could manage.
“Laurel is getting fussy and Brynne told me to bring her to you. She also said that Laurel is her daddy’s girl.” She handed my fitful daughter over.
“Right,” I said, adjusting Laurel facing outward against my chest how she liked, and rocking her tiny body gently from side to side. “Thank you, Claire.”
“She’s absolutely beautiful, just like Brynne,” she said softly.
I nodded in agreement but didn’t know what to say to that, so I kept quiet.
“Thank you, Ethan.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For keeping my daughter safe, and for loving her so much, and for making her so very happy.”
I felt my eyes grow wide, not believing what I’d just heard.
“Oh, and for this little miracle right here.” Claire took one of Laurel’s hands and kissed it, before turning to go back to sit beside her husband. I couldn’t envision myself ever getting on with Claire very well, nor forming much of a relationship with her. I didn’t want to be unforgiving, as much as…remembering the many times she’d hurt my beautiful girl so badly, and not ready to let all that go just yet. But for Brynne, and now for Laurel, I would have to try.
THE two of us went to our special place. I’d figured out early on, when Laurel was cranky and tired, she was soothed by gentle words and the stimulation of simply looking out at objects of beauty. So while the wedding partying was still raging, I slipped away with my little princess and took her into the house. Along the way, we stopped to look at things of interest like paintings on the wall, or flowers in a vase, or the view of the sea shining out from one of the windows.
When we went through the door to my study, she kicked her feet and made a cooing sound as if telling me to hurry my arse up and get there already.
She made me laugh at her baby antics, and she was only three months old. How would things be once she started talking? Oh God…or walking?