Page 88 of Love Song, Take Two

He didn’t have to be told twice, leaning over the counter, he scooped up a large piece of the dessert and shoved it into his mouth. He groaned at the melted chocolate and caramel as Emery made a similar sound on the other side of the counter. He ate another piece and another before finally turning to his girlfriend. “What is this deliciousness?”

She beamed, smug and proud of herself. “It’s called a desperation pie, you cobble together ingredients you have and make it work.”

“God, Mom, it’s soooo gooooood!”

“We’ve got cocoa, pecans, walnuts, salted caramel, condensed milk, graham crackers and a regular pie crust,” Micah said as she ate some more of the pie.

The whole thing was seconds away from collapsing onto the counter, so Fletcher was glad that they’d found a way to keep it standing up right, at least for a little longer. But once they were halfway through the pie—“why did I make such a big one for the three of us?“—everyone dropped their spoons and leaned away.

“Chocolate overload,” Emery groaned and Fletcher rubbed his stomach as he straightened up.

“But it’s worth the sugar rush that’s going to hit me very soon.” Fletcher released a burp and smirked when his girls released matching ones of their own.

“The family that burps together, stays together,” Micah added, winking at him.

She had to know what she was doing with all these big words. First, she called him a dad. Now, she was tossing around family like it was totally normal. He agreed with all those words, but he was already so emotionally charged by these two women, those terms were amplifying his feelings. While Micah and Emery put the rest of the dessert away, Fletcher fixed them tea. He listened as the two of them giggled and talked about messy dessert memories, about how there was one time when Micah made a birthday cake that collapsed as soon as she set it down in front of all the other kids. By the time he’d turned around with cups filled with hot apple cinnamon tea, his girls were lying on the kitchen floor hooting and howling as they laughed.

“Do you need help?” he asked, looking down at the two of them.

Micah nodded as Emery shook her head, both their hands stretched out to him. He set the tray down and held out his hands, smiling as they reached out and he pulled them to their feet. But instead of thanking him and moving away, both of them hugged him, arms tightly wrapped around him. His heart skipped and his breath caught at the feeling. He hugged them back, squeezing them against him, kissed the tops of their heads and then stepped away.

“It’s almost bedtime for this old man, so let’s go unwrap those gifts.” At the mention of gifts, Emery released him and charged for the living room.

“I love you,” Micah said, tilting her head back for a kiss.

He dropped a soft kiss to her lips and smiled. “I love you too.”

Armed with their tea, they sat snuggled together on the couch while Emery went through her stack of gifts. Even though he and Micah had decided not to buy each other any gifts, Fletcher got Micah something. After all, she said “don’t spend any money on me, okay?”, she didn’t say anything about no actual gifts. However, they did discuss and buy Emery a bunch of gifts that were thoughtful and what she wanted.

He’d wrapped a pair of his old drumsticks for her, not to use, but to hold onto. There were tiny cracks from being used so much and a faint outline of his hands still lingered on the base, but he knew that Emery would appreciate it. Especially when she started crying as she unwrapped it. Even though they’d decided she was done with drums, he still bought her a book that helped her read sheet music. In some part of his mind, Fletcher believed that Emery could play music. Just not the drums. At Micah’s suggestion, he’d also bought her a pair of star-shaped earrings and a gift voucher to get another piercing in her ears—this was accepted with much squealing and hugging.

Then Emery moved onto Micah’s gifts, which were a lot more in line with what she wanted—a makeup kit, a pack of suspenders with skulls on them, a poster of The Rescuers that Fletcher had gotten his bandmates to sign and send over. Emery was over the moon about all her gifts and Fletcher was glad for it. Once she was done, she carried her loot up to her bedroom and closed the door. Leaving him and Micah alone on the couch, with wrapping paper strewn around everywhere.

“I got you something,” she said, sliding out from under his arm to retrieve an envelope from behind the tree. “But this also depends on whether or not you opened your birthday gift.”

“I uh…forgot,” he replied, looking apologetic.

Micah laughed and returned to the couch. “Of course you did.”

He took the large envelope from her, realizing that it was the same size as the one she’d given him for his birthday. Carefully opening it, he tipped it sideways and glanced at her as a bunch of photographs slipped into his hand. He didn’t know what to expect, so when he flipped the pictures over, his eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, drinking in the photoshoot of Micah dressed up like a mermaid in dangerously sexy and provocative poses in front of and around a drum kit. The tail matched the tattoo on his arm, a tiny bikini top held her breasts up and whatever makeup she was wearing added to the sexy allure of the pose.

He pressed the photographs to his chest and glanced at Micah, who grinned from her position beside him on the couch. “You like?”

“You did this for me.”

“I’m your mermaid, right? Figured I’d make it official.”

“Fucking hell, Mick,” he breathed out, chest heaving and heart racing as he held the pictures out to stare at them again. There were six in total and in every single one, she was in a slightly more sexy pose. The final one had her topless, sultry eyes boring holes into his even through the printed image. When he could finally function, adjusting his hard dick and shifting around a little, Fletcher nodded. “I got you something too.”

“Next year, we’re seriously sticking to the ‘no gifts’ rule, no matter what.”

He grinned as he set the photographs face down. “Next year, huh?”

“You’re stuck with us, Fletch, might as well get used to it.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be, love bug.”

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