Page 87 of Second Chance Baby

Carrington frowned. “No,” she said, stretching out the word. “For what?”

“For not mentioning this stuff earlier. Before you had to deal with it on your own.” I swallowed hard, blinking fast. “Has there been other stuff I didn’t talk to you about that you wished you could have a parent, you know, address?”

“No.” Again, the word was like five syllables. “What are you even talking about? I could’ve asked Gams if I had questions. But I didn’t. Missy is almost a year older than me, so I’d already heard all about it before I got it. It royally sucks but it’s no big deal. I swear.” She took a deep breath. “And since you and Mom probably figured you’d tag-team me on this too, no, I haven’t had sex. Ugh. Ick. Not even.”

The sound that rushed out of me bordered on a grateful sigh. I’d fucked up some stuff, but my little girl wasn’tthatfar out of my sphere. Thank God.

Still, my voice wasn’t quite steady when I spoke next. “Can I have a hug?”

“Duh.” She hurled herself into my arms, hanging on for an extra moment or two until I got ahold of my damn self. “You’re happy with Mom. And she’s happy with you. So, you know, just be that. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I swear.”

I leaned back to stare down at her. “Dream on, kid. You’re most important to us. Always. And if I ever forget, make sure you remind us.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling away. “Whatever.”

But there was no missing her lips twitching as she ran back up the steps and inside, slapping the door shut behind her in her wake.

I grabbed my phone and texted Bridget.

Travis

I love you. So much. That’s all.

A honk from behind me had me whirling to see Lacey’s small sedan swerving to the curb with Bridget hanging out the passenger window. “Hey you. I love you too. So much,” she called out before slipping back inside to say something to her sister. Then she climbed out to jog up the walk to me, breathlessly gripping my shoulders in her determined grip.

I grasped her elbows, holding her still when she would’ve kissed me. “Marry me. Now.”

“Yes, of course.” Her eyes widened. “Now? Like now now?”

I had to laugh. “Not this second. I gotta make plans. Because we are doing this once, so it’s gotta be epic. Plus, it has to be done by someone who is fucking legal so no fly-by-night shit, either.”

“Of course.” She nodded slowly. “Legal marital services are a must.”

“As is a fucking ring. I did not plan this out. At all. I just went with my gut, and all I want is to be married to you, and a father to your children. Whether one or a dozen.” I thumbed away her tears that sneaked free. “All sound good to me.”

“All sound good to me too.” She leaned up to hook her arms around my neck, her salty tears flying free as we kissed.

Then she whirled away and yelled at her sister, who was still parked at the curb, honking her horn and pumping her fist. “Hey, Lace, guess what? I’m getting married.”

“About fucking time,” she yelled, running out of the car without bothering to close her door. She raced up the walk to hug her sister and me too for good measure. “Congratulations, you two! I better be invited.”

Bridget echoed one of her daughter’s favorite phrases as she reared back to grab my hand. “Duh!”

TWENTY-TWO

We didn’t actually makeit back to the city to get my stuff until the next weekend. Reason being we celebrated our impromptu, decade overdue engagement by christening every room of our house with dirty, inventive sex.

And then we passed out in a stupor on the kitchen floor until we woke to Travis’s agent calling to remind us, we had a photo shoot to get our asses back to the gazebo for, since we had more pictures to take. He informed Daphne we were now engaged, and she congratulated us and told us to shower and get the hell back down to the lake for our shoot.

We arrived about an hour late and spent almost the entire day taking photos on the Hamiltons’ boat with the assistance of Laurie, who’d been written a note to excuse her from school for the day.

By late afternoon, I officially had a sunburn, and Rita was thrilled with that day’s crop of photos. Not to mention, my landlord had been duly informed by a letter from my lawyer that I was officially breaking my lease and would be emptying out my apartment within days. And Lacey had excitedly agreed to be my maid of honor.

Hallelujah.

Not everything was perfect. It never would be. When I called the last known number I had for my mom, it came back as out of service. Lacey tried to contact the guy who’d most recently dated my mom, but his number was out of service too.

Dead end there. It sucked that I couldn’t even tell my own mom I was finally going to get married, but it wasn’t as if my life with her had ever been any different.

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