Page 89 of Five Days

A soft smile curved her lips even as sadness filled her eyes. “Your mother had a lot of love to give too, but she wasted it on youngsters who didn’t appreciate her heart or her unselfish nature.”

Pretty sure I read between the lines. “She was taken advantage of?”

Granny nodded. “Countless times from what she’d told me.”

“Do you know who my father is?”

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t. No one came forward to claim you, and with Malcom’s refusal to let me have you, I had no choice but to give you up. Tell me you were happy, Zack. Help ease my guilt in not fighting harder to keep you.”

I wished more than anything that I could.

“I wouldn’t change my past,” I said instead of making her feel even worse than she already did. “Being raised in the system led me to Landon and eventually Callum. Without the two of them…” My voice trailed off as my throat thickened. I shrugged, not really sure what to say.

Granny smiled once more. “Well, three grandsons are better than one. I can’t wait to meet them. If, that is, you’re willing to spend some time with this old lady.”

“You’re hardly old,” I croaked past the tears still clogging my throat, “but yes. I would love to. And I’m sure they would too.”

Epilogue - Zack

One Year Later

Micah’s daughter perched on his hip, her blonde hair almost white beneath the summer sun. She tugged on his full beard, cooing and babbling all sorts of nonsense that made her daddy melt if his heart-eyes were any indication. We’d gotten together to help celebrate her first birthday.

I stood with him, Kellen, Sean, and Drake, watching our significant others goofing off in the new pool Micah had installed in his massive backyard a few weeks earlier. We hung out close to the water’s edge, the occasional splash refreshing, considering the heat of the day.

Kellen and his husband JJ had adopted six-year-old twins, who were the main attraction, both of them rambunctious and thinking they could play with the big boys owning the pool.

“How’d we all get so damned lucky?” Sean asked, grinning as he watched Matteo pick up one of the twins and fling him shrieking with laughter toward the deep end.

None of us had an answer, but he’d nailed the truth. We’d all happened upon men who fit us perfectly. Me, doubly so. I’d been on the end of their teasing quite a bit after resigning as an escort and going public with my relationship but didn’t give a shit because my Landon and Callum made life better in every single way.

“So how’s Granny and Rhode Island?” Drake asked and sipped his sweating beer.

Laughing over the memory of the last picture Granny had sent me, I shook my head. “She’s living it up in Austria—I think. Or maybe Switzerland.”

“Still with that gardener boy she dragged along from home?”

I barked a laugh at Sean’s prodding.

“She dropped him off somewhere in Spain. Claimed another named Julio? Horace? I can’t keep up with her shenanigans.”

“Good for her. To Granny!” Sean raised his beer, and we all agreed, clinking our glasses together.

“So what’s the plan with that mansion of yours?” Micah asked, switching his little nugget who turned one today to his other hip.

Granny had already signed the Briggs’s family home over to me, even though I’d told her countless times I didn’t want it, that I hadn’t had a single expectation in showing up for my grandfather’s burial.

But Landon had fallen in love at first sight with the property and the woman who claimed him as her youngest grandson. She pinched his cheeks and everything. Spoiled him rotten too, much to his delight. And our favorite boy had come up with a great use for the stone monstrosity of a home.

“We’ve decided to stay,” I admitted to what I hadn’t been initially been thrilled about.

Eventually, I had agreed to the idea of fostering kids in need of love and a home until they could stand on their own two feet. Landon had hopped aboard with Callum’s suggestion, using all his wiles to get me to agree.

“Are you still planning to fill the thirteen bedrooms?” Kellen asked, watching his own kids and grinning.

“Hell no,” I replied, shuddering at the thought, “But we’ve got our first foster boy arriving next week. Johnny. He’s thirteen and has been in the system his whole life. Two others will be here in early September. They’re eleven and ten. We’ll see how things go from there.”

“I’m proud of you,” Micah said, grasping my shoulder. His daughter yelled something and tugged at his hair. “Sorry, sweet pea,” he cooed. “Daddy will stop ignoring the birthday girl.”

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