“Mom, you’re safe.” June laughs, and November uncovers her face and looks at the wall then swings her head toward us. “What are you doing? The reception is starting any minute.”
“We’re coming now. I just wanted a few minutes alone with my wife,” I tell her, gently tucking June into my side.
“Oh,” she says softly, looking between the two of us. “You could have just said that.”
“You’re in Momzilla mode. You would have stopped us,” June informs her, and November’s lips twitch.
“True,” she agrees with a sigh. “I’ll give you a few more minutes, but then I’m dragging you both out of here.”
“We’ll be out in a second, Mom,” June says, and November nods then looks at me, and barks, “Don’t mess up her hair. You still have pictures to take,” before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Are you sure I can’t take off your dress?” I ask, hearing November shout through the door, “Do it and die, Evan!”
Covering June’s laughing mouth with my own, I pray silently that the night ends quickly.
“Are you having fun?” June asks from my side, and I look at her beautiful face then around the large, open room. Seeing all of our friends and family has made me realize how lucky I am. I may have had a shit childhood and fucked-up parents, who still to this day haven’t gotten it together enough to think about their son, but I have good men at my back, and a woman at my side who fits me perfectly. And really, what else is there to ask for in life?
*
June
Four years later
Finally catching my daughter, who I’m pretty sure was put on this earth to make me nuts, I swing her up into my arms and turn to face an older gentleman when he taps me on my shoulder.
“Yes?” I ask, holding Tia’s tiny hands down, so she can’t bop me in the face as she yells for candy, candy, candy, which she is not getting any of. She doesn’t need candy. Her on veggies and fruit is bad. Her on candy is my worst nightmare.
“Is that your boy?” the man asks, stepping to the side, and when he does, I feel my lips press tight.
I want to say no, that the little adorable hellion isn’t mine, but he is—or he’s all his dad’s. “He’s mine,” I murmur, taking my daughter with me toward her brother, Conner, who is apparently using the automatic popcorn butter-dispensing machine to wash his hands in butter.
“Jesus,” I hear Evan rumble from behind me, as the weight of his hand settles against my lower back. “I was gone for two minutes,” he mutters in astonishment.
“Yep,” I agree, trying not to laugh. “That is all yours.” I watch him approach Conner, tug his hands out from under the streaming river of butter, and grab some napkins. Our life is insane, complete chaos. There is never a dull moment, but there is also never a moment I don’t appreciate what we have.
The End
Until Ashlyn
Prologue
“Hey, Mom,” I greet, tucking my phone between my ear and shoulder as I shove another dress and matching heels into my suitcase. I can’t help but smile while I do because Dillon will likely flip his lid when he sees my choices in attire for the weekend, but there is not one damn thing he can do about it since we won’t be in the office. So technically, his stupid rules don’t apply.
“Are you all packed?”
“Almost.” I sigh, looking at the clock and realize I only have ten minutes to finish before my cab is set to arrive. I wasn’t planning on going to Vegas for the dental convention but Dillon insisted that he needed me with him, and like an idiot, I agreed, so now I’m stuck packing last minute.
“Is Dillon picking you up?”
“No. I’m meeting him there. His flight left this afternoon.”
“Oh.” She lets out a defeated breath and I roll my eyes. My mom is convinced that Dillon and I are meant to be together. Snort “Is it just you and him going?”
“I hope so. I swear if the wicked witch shows up, I’ll sell her on the strip to the highest bidder, or pay someone to take her out to the desert and drop her off,” I grumble, digging under my bed for my BOB, just in case of an emergency.
“Call me if you need an alibi.” She laughs and I smile, shaking my head while dropping my BOB into my suitcase.
“I’ll call,” I mutter, heading to the bathroom so I can gather my shower supplies.
“He’s so nice I don’t understand why he’s with her.” she says quietly, and I grit my teeth. Dillon is annoying, bossy, and—fine he can be nice sometimes, plus he’s uber hot—but I hate him. Okay, I don’t hate him but I really, really want to hate him.
“I don’t know mom.”
“Oh well, so how long are you going to be gone for?”
“Just the weekend. My flight gets back in Monday night around seven.”
“Promise you’ll call everyday and check in.”
“I’ll call or text,” I agree, grabbing my makeup case from under the bathroom cupboard.
“Please try and have some fun while you’re there. Make Dillon take you out to a nice dinner or dancing.”
Snorting I mutter, “Sure, Mom. I love you. I’ll message when I land.”
“Okay, honey,”
“Tell Dad I love him.”
“Will do,” she agrees softly, before I hang up and shove my cell into my back pocket. Looking at the clock, I let out a quiet curse then get my ass in gear and finish packing, so I don’t miss my flight.