Page 32 of Bring Me Back
“Send me the information for graduation. We’d love to be there for him,” Mom smiles, going back to the paper.
“Thank you, guys. For taking it easy on her, but for being so welcoming too. I didn’t tell her we were coming here, but when I thought of the one place I could always escape to anytime I needed it, I only thought of you two.” My parents are better than I’ve ever deserved, and I’ll never take that for granted.
“Wherever we are will always be your home, son. And if she loves you, then we love her. She’s a good woman. And raising that boy practically on her own? That’s no easy feat. She’s very impressive,” Dad says, and I nod in agreement. She really is the most incredible woman I know.
“I’m gonna change really quick, and then I’ll be ready to head to the shop,” I tell Dad, dropping a kiss on my mom’s cheek before heading back upstairs.
Willow hasn’t moved from the middle of the bed since I left. After spending yesterday cooking with my mom and soaking in the sun at the beach, and spending all night worshipping her as quietly as I could, I know she needed a little extra sleep today. She looks so peaceful, like she’s finally able to rest, that I almost hate to wake her. But I know she’d be pissed to wake up and find me totally gone.
“Pretty girl? I’m gonna go out with my dad for a few hours, but I’ll be back. We should head back home tonight. I don’t want to leave Jax for too long.” I tell her, pushing her lavender hair behind her ear.
Her eyes flutter open, and a gorgeous sleepy smilebreaks across her lips. She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her curves are full and soft, her body telling the story of a life hard lived before we found each other. She brought a child into this world. She protected him, emotionally and physically, for as long as she could. I vow to myself to always take that responsibility on for them now. They deserve to have someone who takes care of them both.
“Leaving where?” She asks.
“My dad’s shop. He's gonna do a little work for me, and then I’ll be back. We can have a late lunch and then head home, sound good?” I reply, kissing her head and inhaling her sweet citrus scent. Fuck, she’s like a drug to me.
“Okay, be careful. Don’t tattoo my face on your ass. You’d ruin such a beautiful canvas,” she says, burying her face back into my pillow with a laugh.
“No promises, have fun with mom.” I turn her chin towards me, kissing her sweetly at first. But sweet is never enough. My tongue delves into her mouth, and within seconds she’s fully awake. Her nails rake across my scalp, and I groan. She grips my neck, stretching up to deepen our kiss even more. My knee hits the bed as my body hovers over hers, my arms supporting my weight. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels pushing my ass forward until I’m grinding into her. My dick is hard as a fucking rock against the warmth of her core.I’m desperate to be inside her, even knowing my dad is waiting downstairs for me.
“You keep kissing me like that and rocking this perfect pussy into me, I’m gonna fuck you before I leave this house. I don’t give a shit that my parents could hear you screaming for me,” I say, and she sighs.
“Right now I don’t think I care who hears us.” Her voice is thick with desire, but she pulls away.
“I promise I will make it up to you when we’re back in our own bed tonight, honey.” I place a kiss on her forehead, lingering longer than necessary.
“Our bed. I like the sound of that,” she smiles, her eyes already closing again as she snuggles her face into my pillow.
“Hope so, because you don’t really have a choice.” I smack her ass where it hangs out of the blankets, and she giggles. “I love you, pretty girl. Be safe.”
“I love you, too. No ass tats.”
“Hope you’re sure about this, boy. Because I’m almost done so it’s way too late to change your mind.” My dad smirks, wiping the extra blood and ink from the top of my hand before shading the last petal.
“Never been more sure.” I lean my head back, closing my eyes and zoning out.
“I’m talking about the tattoo, son. Not the woman.We all know you’re sure about that one,” he laughs, not looking up from his work.
My dad has been a tattoo artist for as long as I can remember. He’s nearing 60 and doesn’t show any signs of retiring anytime soon. His shop runs seamlessly with or without him, but I know he loves being there.
“Dad, can I ask you for some parental advice?”
“Shit, son, that’s all I’ve ever given you. You’re gonna start asking permission now?” He grins, always the smart ass.
“Were you ever disappointed in my choices in life?” My conversation with Jaxon plays on repeat in my mind.
“In your enlisting? Or in your business decisions currently? Because the answer is the same for both.” He pulls the tattoo gun from my skin, sitting up straight to look me in the eye. “Theres never been a second since you took your first breath that I’ve ever been disappointed in who you are, Beckett. Your life isyourlife. It’s not up to me or your mom to make your choices for you. That’s not what parents do. We’re always here to guide you or give you insight into the choices and mistakes we’ve made, but your choices are your own.” He says sincerely.
“Jaxon wants to go to art school. He’s so fuckin smart, Dad. But he doesn’t care about statistics or science or any of that shit. He just wants to draw and paint, and he’s really good. I mean, I’m biased because I’m his…because I care about him. But objectively, he’s really good. Ev and Eli tell him all the time how talented he is . I know he would have a guaranteed apprenticeship at Grovewood Ink if he wants it.” My bicep flexes as he darkens the lines across the top of my hand. For me, tattoos have always been the kind of pain that hurts so good. This one is no different.
“It’s not about whether or not he’s smart. He could be dumb as dirt, but as long as he’s happy, as long as he’s a good person, that’s all that really matters. If you came to me and said,‘Dad, he’s a shitbag, what do I do?’ I’d have some advice for you. But you already know what to tell him.”
“You’re right. Thanks, old man.” I close my eyes again, letting my mind drift away.
“Another thing,” he says, wiping the top of my hand with green soap. “Being biologically related to somebody doesn’t make you a father. Dad is a title you earn. I supported you, cheered you on, showed up for you every single chance I had for your entire life. I earned the right to be your father, son. You’ve been there for that boy every opportunity you had since he was 14. Sure, you’ve got some catching up to do. But I know you love him. He ain’t your blood, but he’s your boy. Prove it to him.”
I flex my hand once he’s done cleaning it off, the lily flower petals fanning out toward my fingers, following the contours of my hand, the stem trailing down toward my wrist. I’m always amazed by my dad’s talent. Emotion clogs my throat, and I cough to clear it away,nodding. He’s right. Jax is mine. Willow is too. Whether she’s Lily, the beautifully broken girl she was before coming to Grovewood, or she’s Willow, the strong, independent woman she’s worked so hard to become, I am wholly in love with her. They’re my family, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make every one of their dreams come true.
