Page 35 of Second Chance Baby

My throat tightened. Those three words I’d once said so easily burned on my tongue. I didn’t want to wait. Hell, I would’ve proposed before we went to bed if I hadn’t wanted to give her the fairy tale. I hadn’t the first time around because I hadn’t known it was important.

Now I knew we both needed it.

Not because it only counted if there was bling and music and some over-the-top gesture, but because we were only going to do it once, and I didn’t want her to doubt for a second, she was my everything in every possible way. Just the way she was. I wanted her, not some mythical perfect woman who didn’t even exist.

For me, shewasperfect, just as she’d been since we were teens. No one else existed as far as I was concerned.

So, she’d made some mistakes. Some big ones. So had I, starting with not making her understand that she couldn’t drive me away, no matter what. I’d stuck when it came to our daughter, and I’d stuck when it came to Bridget. What she clearly didn’t grasp was that she’d stuck with me too. She hadn’t wanted someone else, either. We were it for each other, and this time, we were going to make sure everyone else knew that too.

Sometimes, when you were lucky, you got second chances. And we were going to make the fucking most of ours.

I glanced around me at the half-eaten snacks and the tossed aside throws and cushions hanging off the couch.

Nope, this scene would not do at all. Not for our reunion.

I jogged upstairs and rushed into my bedroom, seeing it through new eyes. How long had it been since I’d changed those sheets? Too long, obviously. Luckily, I had clean ones in the laundry basket, but I hadn’t bothered to put them on the bed yet.

So, I’d do that now.

But before I’d do that, I’d sneak up to see my two girls together.

As silently as possible, I crept down the hall to peek into the open door of Carrington’s room. My fingers clamped around the doorjamb as I saw Bridget sitting on the edge of our daughter’s bed, gently feathering her fingers over Care Bear’s hair as she slept, barely touching her as if she almost didn’t believe she was real.

I got that feeling. I kept opening and closing my eyes as if I expected this vision in front of me to vanish if I didn’t keep checking. But no matter how many times I shut my eyes, when I opened them, they were still there.

When I couldn’t stay back any longer, I walked forward and joined Bridget, standing behind her and resting my hands on her shoulders. She leaned back against me, breathing hard as if she was on the verge of tears. And that wouldn’t do.

“No more crying,” I murmured, bending down to kiss the top of Bridget’s head. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” She sniffled and rose, nudging me toward the door. She grabbed my hand and tugged me down the hall, diverting her destination when she saw the light on in the master bedroom and the stripped bed with a pile of sheets stacked on the mattress. “What’s going on in here?”

“I haven’t changed my sheets in forever.”

“So?”

“That’s not going to do. Sorry.”

“Considering I was good with the sofa, I’d say it could do just fine. But since you got this far, easy enough to put the sheets on the mattress.” Before I could snatch them out of her hands, she started putting them on the bed, moving fast and efficiently. But then she stopped and put her hands on her hips in a perfect mimic of our daughter. “Actually, why don’t you get some music going? Something…subtle.”

Apparently, she could read what was on my mind. Not that I’d intended to put on something like Barry White.

Then I decided it would make her laugh, so it was actually the very best choice.

I went to my sound system and shuffled through different songs, starting with “Let’s Get It On,” by Marvin Gaye and ending with Barry’s “You’re the First, My Last, My Everything.”

When I turned, she was doubled over, laughing. And I joined in, laughing so hard that I tossed myself on the bed, wrinkling the fitted sheet she’d just pulled into place. She tossed the flat sheet over my head before she jumped on top of me, making me laugh so hard that there was probably no way we didn’t wake up Carrington.

“You are so Captain Obvious.”

“Like she knows that song?”

“Even if she doesn’t, it’s obviously meant for a specific purpose.”

“Oh, really? What purpose is that, exactly?”

“I’m not saying it. She’s a smart kid. You don’t think she can put 1 and 1 together?”

“I hope she can because I want the whole world to know, especially her.”

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