She waves her finger in the way she learned from Sam—all sass and sparkle. “Oh no you do not, mister. I want no part of a position that someone bought for me. I paid my dues, Mike. I worked hard. And there is no way I can sit first chair because you greased the wheels to guarantee it would happen.”

  Wait a fucking minute. It was one thing that Sam’s mom was skeptical: that’s her nature. But to think of Jess worried that I’d been undermining her?

  “What the fuck are you talking about, baby girl?” Ben grumble-gasps. And I swear I see a little glimmer of laughter in Jess’ eye. It’s only once the words have left my mouth that I realize that it was entirely inappropriate to say that in front of her dad. But whatever. Give a fuck. I can’t have her mad at me for something I didn’t do. “Don’t look at me, baby. It’s all you.”

  “Are you telling me you had nothing to do with this?”

  I take her phone from her and set it down and then take her hands in mine. “Of course not.”

  I take her in my arms, holding her close, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “Really?” she says muffled against my shirt. “Really?”

  “I swear. On you. On your dad. On Sam. Hell, even on your mom. And your mom hates me. So surely there’s some kind of superstitious jinx shit I’m putting on myself there. But I fucking swear. You earned this. Clean and straight. I didn’t pull a string or say a word.”

  Now Janet comes running out on the patio.

  “I’ve just seen the news on the Facebook page! First violin, sweetie! You did it!”

  I step back to let Jess have a moment with her mom and dad. And for as tense as it feels, I fucking love being here for this. I fucking love being in her world.

  Once the hugs and kisses have ended, Janet turns her fury on me again. “You can go, Mike. We have to celebrate, and I don’t want you here, are we clear?”

  I reach out and take Jess’ hand in mine. Her little fingers slip right between my big ones, and finally—for the first fucking time since I kissed her in the car earlier—I feel whole.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not without Jess.”

  “Let him stay, Janet,” Ben says. “He’s a part of the family. Always was but now more than ever.”

  Janet doesn’t like that at all. The prisoners are taking over the jail and she’s not standing for it. She shakes her head. “Nope. No way, Mike. Get out.”

  I shake my head again and turn to face Jess. When my eyes meet her, my heart fucking throbs. And deep down in my gut, I feel the primal urge to be inside her as soon as is fucking possible.

  “I’m not leaving without her. So I guess I’ll just call some movers to move me in. Unless you’ve got a better idea, baby girl.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Jess

  Two weeks later and it’s Tuesday again, but this Tuesday is very, very different from the Tuesday when this all started. So much better in every single way. Because today, our life begins together. In Mike’s house. As a couple.

  My dad is all for it. My mom, not so much. But she’s… thawing. Slowly. Like an iceberg in the winter sun. And that’s progress in my book. For sure.

  They figured out their IRS issue. An error on the part of the government and I stared at my mom until she apologized to my dad for doubting him. I’m slowly learning my voice is as important as hers and it feels like my footing with her is more secure every day.

  Sam comes thundering downstairs with Lagerfeld spinning circles behind him. Sam is as happy as I’ve ever seen him. Turns out, what Sam really wanted for his eighteenth was to find a place of his own, but he didn’t want to leave Mike in the house alone. But since I came into the picture, Sam has felt a lot more comfortable spreading his wings, which makes me so happy. He’s enrolled in a few classes at the Carolina School of Design while he finishes up senior year next month.

  So with me moving in, Sam decided it was time to move out. And the move is just about finished. Mike’s rented him a nice new condo less than a mile away on the lake so he’s going, but not far, thank goodness.

  As for me, I’m also as happy as I’ve ever been. I accepted the first chair position, but instead of applying to music conservatories, like my mom has been pressuring me to do since I was five, I’ve decided to apply to work in music education. Less stress, less pressure. More living, more learning. Much, much better all around.

  Mike comes around the corner into the kitchen. He’s been moving boxes into Sam’s new place all morning and there’s a sheen of sweat on his burly forearms, and just hint of sweat between his pecs. I suppress a swoon. I am the luckiest girl in the world.

  Mike pops open a sparkling water for the three of us. “You got everything?”

  Sam nods happily. His eyeliner is so on point that it makes me a tiny bit jealous. “Yeah. And as a bonus, last night was the last night I’ll have to hear my bestie banging my dad! Hollaaaaaa!”

  Mike and I groan in unison. We’ve tried to be quiet. We really have. But apparently not quiet enough.

  Sam bursts out in a contagious giggle. “It’s fine, lovebirds! If you’re happy, I’m happy. But now, we’re outta here!”

  We say our goodbyes and watch Sam head down the driveway, with Lagerfeld’s nose poking out the passenger’s window, open enough just wide enough for smells, but not wide enough to get bugs in his eyes.

  Mike and I wave until Sam disappears and then we turn to each other.

  Every time I look at him, he seems to get even more handsome. The more time I spend with him, the more I can’t bear to spend a second without him.

  “So,” Mike says, taking my hands.

  “So.”

  “I’ve got a question for you.”

  The heat in his eyes, it makes me almost woozy. “Anything.”

  He lifts an eyebrow a little. = He knows I mean that. For two weeks, he’s taken me every which way. Rough, soft. Kind. Brutal. Hungry, sleepy, demanding, dark, light. Anything he wants is his. Always and forever. Because I belong to him. And he belongs to me. It’s the most obvious thing in the world.

  Standing on the front porch, he smiles down at me.

  And then lowers himself in front of me. On one knee.

  Oh. My. God.

  From his pocket, he takes a black velvet box. He pops it open and reveals a diamond that looks to me about as big as an ice cube. “Marry me, Jess. Please.”

  Something about him, my big burly strong Mike, saying the word please…. It just absolutely melts me. I am so surprised, so bowled over, that I can’t even find the words. This feels too good to be true. But too perfect to be a dream.

  Mike blinks at me. Sniffs. “This is where you say something, baby girl.”

  Oh my god, I haven’t answered. I get so lost in his eyes, I hardly know what I’m doing. And I hope that never changes. “Yes, of course, yes!”

  “Atta girl,” he says, laughing, as he frees the gorgeous ring from its velvet cradle. He slips it on my finger and it catches the light like a disco ball.

  “Yes,” I say again. “A thousand times yes.”

  He stays kneeling and holds me in his arms, pressing his ear to my belly, holding me close. “I love you. And I’m never letting you go.”

  I wrap my arms around him in return, gently caressing the short hair at the nape of his neck. But before I can say something beautiful in return, my stomach answers for me, rumbling out a big, ungraceful growl right against his ear.

  I cringe. “Sorry!”

  Mike laughs into my stomach. I can’t see his eyes, but I can see the lovely smile lines that make my heart ache with happiness. “Let’s get you something to eat, baby girl. Anything you want.”

  “You’re what I want, Daddy,” I say, keeping him close. “Always.”

  “You’ve got me, little one. Forever.”

  Inside in the cool kitchen now. Mike opens the refrigerator, and I scan the stocked shelves. Plump blackberries, fresh peaches, this amazing French yogurt in these adorable little glass containers, olives, and these delightful little peppers stuffed with mozzarella and pepperoni.

  But none of it really does it for me. I scan my mental inventory of snacks. A lot has changed in the last few weeks, and especially how free I feel to eat like a human being. “Do you have any…”

  I search my body, trying to think of what it is I’m hungry for. And then it hits me. I find there’s one thing I am really, really craving. And it honestly makes no sense. “Do you have… any celery?”

  Mike spins around, looking puzzled. “Have any…what?”

  I look down at my stomach, feeling equally mystified. I press my now dazzlingly ringed hand to my growling tummy and look up at Mike. “I’ve never had a craving so strong for anything in my life.”

  Who looks at me, blinking. I can’t really read his expression. Something between smug and happy, but I can’t imagine why. “A craving,” he says slowly. “For celery.”

  I nod at him. Creamy peanut butter. Sweet raisins. And cool, crispy sticks of nutritionless fiber. “Celery. Isn’t that…weird?”

  CHAPTER 11

  Mike

  Epilogue -40 Weeks Later

  “Push, honey! Push!” hollers the doula, roaring it out like she’s screaming from the sidelines at the Super Bowl.

  Jess bears down, digging her heels into the wall of the inflatable birthing pool. I’m right behind her in the warm water, and I feel her body press hard back against mine. I tighten my body to give her something to push back against. “Pushing!” she roars back.

  Fuck, she’s a force of nature. But I’m so fucking nervous that I think I might pass out right here and now.

  The room starts to spin, and I feel two familiar hands on my arms. On my left is Sam. And on my right, of all people, is Janet. “Woah there, big guy!” Janet says, smiling at me, all the ice in her voice from nine months ago gone now. “Breathe, Mike! Breathe!”

  Now I’m doing fucking Lamaze because I don’t know what else to do. Blowing in, blowing out, I focus in on Janet to try to get my bearings. She nods at me encouragingly, doing the “hee-hee-hoo-HOO!” breath right along with me.

  As I breathe in and out, in and out, the last nine months flash through my mind in still frames. Taking the pregnancy test, holding Jess in my arms. Our wedding, just a simple afternoon at city hall, followed a fantastic party, where she drank sparkling apple cider but nobody but us and the waiter knew it because it was too soon to share the news. Her baby shower, hosted by her mom. Ben and I painting the nursery. And every night, sleeping with my Jess, my wife, my universe, nestled in my arms.

  The spinning starts to slow, and Janet grips my hand with a wink. At first, she fucking hated me. Hated. Me. But things started to change as soon as we found out Jess was pregnant. And now, things are so much fucking better it’s like a brand-new day.

  “We can’t have you passing out, now can we?” Janet says. “Sam. Juice!”

  Sam shoves the bendy straw from a Capri Sun in my mouth. “Drink, Dad. Keep your sugars up!”

  I suck in the super sweet mango-guava-cooler-whatever and it helps a bit. In the background, I watch Ben pacing around with his hands in his pockets, unable to do anything but look at the carpet. I realize that all the guys in the room—me, Sam, and Ben—are all a fucking disaster. Sam can’t stop crying, I think I’m going to pass out, and Ben is literally going to pace a hole in the carpet.

  Meanwhile, the doula, Janet, and Jess are rolling with it like pros.

  Not a surprise. At all.

  Jess slumps back after a contraction and the doula tidies her wet curls off to one side. “Just one more push, sweetie! And I think we’ll be in business!”

  I hold Jess close, my bare chest pressed against her back, the soaking wet back of her exercise bra between us. I try to focus on the tangibles. Her scent, the shell of her ear, the beautiful pregnant plumpness of her gorgeous body. And it helps, a little.

  But not much. Because until I know she and the baby are both safe and well, I’m going to be a fucking wreck.

  I look at Janet, into her blue eyes, that used to be so icy but that are now so warm and kind. People can change, they can. If you give them a chance. “Tell me she’ll be alright.”

  Janet looks at Jess, smiling. “She’ll be more than alright, Mike. They both will. I promise.”

  I feel Jess start to brace for another contraction. I watch the solitaire necklace rise on her chest as she takes a big breath. “Here it comes,” she says, to the doula, and to me, and to everybody here who loves her so much.

  All of us seem to suck in a big breath at once, right along with her. Of anticipation. Of excitement. And, in my case, of pure fucking terror. Because if anything happens to her, that’ll be the end of me. I can’t live without her. I won’t live without her ever again.

  Jess’s roar starts low in her chest, like a lioness, and then louder, and louder, and louder, until we’re all roaring right along with her. Her body pushes with all its might against me, so much fucking power, so much fucking strength.

  Then, silence. Jess grunts and relaxes back against me. Then the doula reaches down into the water.

  And brings out a pink, screaming, wrinkly baby girl.

  Holy mother of fucks. I hang on tight to Jess, but laser focused on her our daughter’s little body with her tiny little toes. And her fingers, holy fuck her little fingers.

  The whole world blurs at the edges and everything that has ever mattered becomes clear. Jess. And our little girl, with her shock of red hair and her wailing cries.

  The doula pinches off the cord and hands the baby to Jess, who cradles her in her arms, as I cradle Jess in mine.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper against Jess’s ear.

  She nods, her eyes fluttering. “Yeah. I am totally okay.”

  “The placenta has been delivered,” the doula says softly and warmly. “Mom and baby are safe and sound, Dad.”

  Safe and sound.

  All the worry, all the terror of the last twelve hours—fuck, the last forty weeks—start to fade away. I hold Jess close, cradling the back of our little girl’s head in my palm. “I think we should call her Michaela, after you,” Jess says softly.

  “Hi Michaela,” I whisper.

  And then, all at once, a dam breaks inside me and I am sobbing, fucking sobbing, with so much joy, as I hold them both close and safe in my arms.

  “She’s going to call you Daddy.” I hear Jess whisper through my balling. “And we both know, you are the best Daddy in the whole world.”

  Fuck, I love her. Both of them so fucking much but all I can do right now is cry and hope they understand, my tears are my soul, slipping out of me so they both know, I belong to them.

  Forever.

  CHAPTER 12

  Mike

  Epilogue - 12 Years Later

  The turkey is in the oven, the pumpkin pies are cooling, and the kids are outside playing in the leaves. And we’ve still got three hours before the rest of the guests arrive.

  Which means it’s time for me and my baby girl to do what we’ve done every Thanksgiving for the last twelve years.

  I come up behind her at the sink. The light is getting low, and I can see her reflection clearly in the window. Her eyes flutter shut as I touch her, and my cock throbs in response. She was so young when I first made her mine, and she’s still so fucking young. Always my baby girl. Always.

  We’ve got four kids now. Michaela is 12, Benjamin is 10, and the twins, Janet and Julia—named after our moms—are 6. Only Julia has the least bit of interest in music, but Jess doesn’t take it too seriously. No pressure. No craziness. Just a pink keytar and a rainbow-colored xylophone for now.

  We’re happy. Fucking happy. And though life is busy and chaotic, it’s good. The self-storage business made us a fucking bundle, and so Ben was able to retire which made me and Jess happy.

  Much to nobody’s surprise, I’ve found being a stay-at-home dad suits me just fucking fine, while Jess has been getting a new music therapy program off the ground for underprivileged kids. We have everything we could ever want and more.

  Sam and his husband, Giacomo, are out watching the kids, and Lagerfeld sits on his lap. Old and arthritic, but still the best-dressed dog in the state. They’re happy, too. Happy and thriving. Taking the fashion world by storm.

  I run my hand down her thigh. Her body has changed after three pregnancies—and I like her new curves, her new softness. But we’re done with kids; four is plenty, and I nearly lost her after the twins. As soon as she was in recovery, safe and sound, I went for the snip. I’ll always want to knock her up when I come inside her, always, but I’m not risking her health ever again.

  She’s in a little plaid dress with black leggings. Her hair is long and loose. Around her neck she still wears the solitaire I put on her all those years ago. I’ve never unlocked the lock. And never will. “Daddy’s hungry, baby girl.”

  I watch her smile in the reflection of the window. “Oh you.”

  I turn her around in my arms, letting her feel my hardness against my thigh. “It’s your fucking fault.”

  She looks up at me with those beautiful eyes. “Sorry, not sorry.”

  Taking her hand, I lead her around the corner, to the butler’s pantry where I know we won’t be seen. I pull down her leggings, revealing her beautiful pussy, slick and wet already. I kiss her deeply, hoisting her up on the countertop. She paws at my belt, and unzips my fly, like she does damn near every single day of our married life.

  And just like that, I’m pressing inside her, groaning into the kiss as her walls part and her pussy clenches, to welcome Daddy home.

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