“We’re going to stay a bit longer, wet the baby’s head,” Max says a couple of hours later.

“Wet the baby’s head? That normally happens after the baby is born, not before,” Nisha says with a laugh. Calum and Nisha are about to retire for the evening and have got up to say their farewells.

“True, but I think your news is cause for celebration and Hudson and I are in the mood for another drink, so why not? Cal, you want to join us?” Max asks.

“No thanks, mate. Nish and I have lots to discuss,” he says.

“Fair enough,” Hudson says, clapping him on the back. “Catch you sometime tomorrow, yes?”

“Absolutely.” Calum draws Nisha to his side.

“See you in the morning,” I say, giving them both a quick peck on the cheek.

“Sure. We’ll probably have breakfast on the beachfront café, if you want to meet us there.”

“That’d be lovely. Sleep well,” I wink, and she laughs. We both know there won’t be much sleeping tonight.

They stroll off, Nisha leaning into Calum’s arms. It warms my heart to know they’re both so blissfully happy about the news. God only knows Nisha deserves it. Throughout my life she has been the one person I could rely on. No matter what, she was by my side at the drop of a hat. Always looking out for me, even when there were times when I couldn’t look out for her. She will be a great mum. Frankly, she brought me up, even though she’s only two years older than I am.

“We won’t be too long, we’ll be back by midnight,” Max says, kissing me on the mouth. He heads off to the bar and orders a couple of beers.

“Yep. We’ll make sure we’re back before the coach turns back into a pumpkin, unless you want to stay with us, baby,” Hudson asks.

I glance over at Bryce, who is standing away from us looking out to sea. Hudson follows my gaze.

“Perhaps not,” he says, leaning over and pressing a kiss against my cheek. “I think you’re needed.” He nods in Bryce’s direction.

“Any idea what’s up?” I ask.

“I have a fair idea.”

“Do you want to give me a heads-up?”

“It’s a conversation you need to have with Bryce, I think. It’s not my story to tell.”

I bite on my lip nervously.

“Hey, Louisa, if anyone can get him to open up, it’ll be you.” He draws me in for a quick hug, pressing a kiss against the top of my head, then strides over to the bar.

Bryce jumps when I place my hand on his shoulder.

“Shit, sorry. I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me,” he says, giving me an apologetic look.

“You want to talk about it?” I say as we step onto the beach.

“I guess so.” Bryce takes my hand. For a few minutes we stroll along the beach, leaving the noise of the restaurant behind us until there is just the sound of us breathing and the soft lap of the waves against the shore. It doesn’t take us long to reach our bungalow. Bryce stops in front of our decking and tips his head back, looking up at the stars.

“They’re so beautiful, don’t you think? Back home we only get to see a handful.”

“Not so many artificial lights here blocking their sparkle.” It goes quiet between us. I get the sense Bryce wants to talk but he doesn’t know how to start. So, I start for him.

“Bryce, what is it? You’ve been acting strange ever since Cal told you the news. I thought you were happy for them both?”

Bryce takes a seat on the bottom step of the decking. I sit down next to him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they’re going to be a family. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Isn’t it a bit soon? I mean, having a relationship, moving in together is one thing. Bringing up a kid is quite another. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“They’re both good people, Bryce. They’re mad about each other. Why wouldn’t it work out?”

He swipes a hand over his face. “Because even good people can fuck up.”

“And you think they’re going to do that?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “No… I don’t know,” he says honestly.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a big responsibility. We’ve all experienced what it’s like when a parent lets us down.”

“We have, so we know better than anyone why we can’t allow that to happen to any children we might choose to have. Just because my mum was a drunk and a lousy mother, doesn’t mean I will be too.”

“That wasn’t what I…” Bryce says in protest, but I raise my hand, cutting him off.

“Just because Nisha’s mum was a drug addict, just because she checked out of motherhood, it doesn’t mean Nisha will do the same. Even when we were kids, Nisha was more of a mother to me than my own.”

“I get that,” Bryce starts.

“This isn’t about them, is it?” I ask gently. “This is about you, about us, right? Bryce, do you want to tell me what’s really on your mind?”

Bryce turns to face me. He looks haunted. “Do you want a family someday?”

“I’d like to, yes.”

“Me too. Fuck, more than anything.”

“Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand.”

“When Cal announced that he’s going to be a dad, my first reaction was happiness but then it was followed by envy.”

“Envy?”

“Yes. Damn it, Louisa, I want to be a dad. I want to make right what went so horribly wrong for me but I’m afraid I’ll end up like him, like my father.” A darkness passes over his features, dulling the golden shards in his hazel eyes. My heart squeezes inside my chest. Bryce has never told me what happened to him as a child or how he ended up in care aged eight. From what I can gather he came from a violent home, but he’s never elaborated. Before, I didn’t want to pry. I knew there would be a time he would be ready to tell me. I guess that time is now. He drops his head into his hands and I slide to the sand, kneeling in front of him.

“Bryce, talk to me,” I say gently.

“I can’t.”

“I’m here for you.”

“I can’t…” he repeats.

I lift his chin with my fingers. “Bryce, nothing you will say will ever stop me from loving you. I promise.”

Drawing me close, Bryce presses his forehead against my own. I rest my hand against his chest. I feel the strength of his heart beating beneath my hand.

“You can do this. I won’t stop loving you,” I repeat.

Bryce pulls back and takes a shaky breath before speaking. “My dad was a violent man, Louisa. My earliest memories are of him beating my mum. There wouldn’t be a week that went by without him hurting her. He was a sadist. Hudson’s mum and my dad would’ve got along famously.” He takes my hand in his, gripping it tightly. “I came home from school one day to find my mum covered in bruises, bleeding. She was a fucking mess. He had almost killed her and yet she was at his feet, begging for his love. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of tea as though it was a normal day, as though he hadn’t nearly beaten her to death. I remember looking at his knuckles, seeing the blood across his skin and feeling this rage. I hated him for what he did to my mum. I hated her for never having the strength to leave him. My mum saw me standing in the door…” He stops, pressing his fingertips against his eyes. “Do you know what she said to me?”

“What did she say,” I ask gently.

“She looked me straight in the eye and said the reason why my dad hit her was because of me. That his rage was my fault, that I was responsible for his anger and her pain.”

“Oh, Bryce. Oh, my love.” My heart breaks for him.

“And do you know what my dad did?” Bryce asks me.

I shake my head, even though I have a pretty good idea.

“He stood up, pushed the table out of the way and beat me. My mum did nothing. The next day at school a teacher noticed I was walking strangely. She lifted up my top and saw the bruises. I was taken into care that same week. My mum handed me over to the local authority like a piece of trash. She didn’t fight for me. She didn’t want me.” His voice breaks on the words, but he pulls the emotion back, breathing in deeply. I am so angry at his mum, his dad. I want to rage at the fucking world. Why are people so damn cruel? But my anger is not what Bryce needs right now. He needs my love, my compassion, and I will give it to him. Every day for the rest of my life.

“Oh, Bryce. None of what happened was ever your fault. You were just a kid. Your dad was evil, and your mum twisted.”

Bryce can’t look at me. My big, strong man is reduced to an emotional wreck in my arms. “I wish I could take the pain away. The hurt. If I could, I’d do it,” I say, pressing my lips against his knuckles.

“I found out my father died five years ago. My mum is still alive, she remarried. I went to visit her a couple of years back. I got to the gate of her house. She was gardening, chatting to a kind-looking man who was standing at the door. She appeared happy, peaceful. A stranger looking in would’ve assumed she was a good person, but I knew better. I pushed the gate open, ready to confront her. When she looked up at me, I saw the recognition in her eyes even when she pretended not to know who I was.”

“What happened?”

“I pretended that my car had broken down and I needed to borrow their phone. She sent her husband in for the house phone and while he was gone she told me to leave. That I wasn’t wanted, that I was a part of her life she’d rather forget.”

Anger fills me, but I push it down. “Go on,” I say gently.

“That was it. Nothing else happened. There was no remorse on her part, no apologies. She looked at me as though I were nothing to her, a nobody. I left before her husband returned with the phone. The aftereffects of her rejection stayed with me for a very long time. I guess it’s still in here,” he says, tapping a finger against his chest.

“Bryce, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” I pull him into my arms, holding him against me like he has done for me so many times before.

“Why didn’t she love me?” he asks.

“The same reason my mum couldn’t love me, because they were broken, Bryce. I know it hurts. I feel the same pain too. So do Hudson, Max, Nisha, Calum. We were all let down by our parents. But this pain I feel, it doesn’t hurt so much now I have you all, now we’re a family. One day you’ll get to be a dad, Bryce, and you’ll be wonderful. I have no doubt in my mind about that.”

Bryce holds me close, his shoulders hunched over. I can feel his pain as silent tears pour from his eyes and burn against the bare skin of my shoulders. For long minutes we remain holding onto one another. I stroke my hands over Bryce’s back, soothing him, holding him like his mother should have all those years ago. After a while he shifts in my arms.

“Louisa…” he grinds out, his voice hoarse. He looks up at me and I take his face in my hands, my fingers lost in his beard I love so much.

“Bryce…” I choke. The sadness I see in his eyes breaks my heart. I want to fix him. I want to love him. I want to take his pain away. In that moment, I understand him completely. I understand my men completely. To have to carry that kind of hurt with you always must be a drain. No wonder they sought escapism in the form of sex. It’s easy to see why they chose the lifestyle they had before I came into their lives.

He stands, pulling me up with him. “I need to lose myself in you. Will you let me do that, Louisa?”

“Always,” I say.

Bryce takes me by the hand and we walk up the steps to our bungalow. He slides open the door to our bedroom, leaving it open behind us. Standing in front of me, Bryce lifts his t-shirt up over his head, revealing his broad muscular chest and six pack. His jeans are slung low on his hips, highlighting his washboard stomach. Stepping forward, I press a light kiss against the dip of his throat whilst I unbutton his jeans, sliding my hands inside and around to his firm, muscular arse. I smile into his neck when I realise he isn’t wearing any underwear. There he was scolding me earlier for being naked under my clothes, and here he is butt naked too. His jeans fall to the floor and he kicks them off. I run my hands gently over his skin, smoothing my palms against his shoulders, his arms, across his abdomen, his hips and arse. God, I love his arse, I could hold onto it all day.

Bryce searches out my mouth and kisses me, the coarse hair of his beard adding to the sensation of his soft lips. He slides his hands behind me and unzips my dress, easing the straps from my shoulders. It falls to the floor and I am naked before him.

“Look at you,” he says, kneeling in front of me. “Do you know how much I fucking love you?” He presses his mouth against my stomach, then splays his hand over my belly, gazing up at me. “One day I will be a dad and you, sweetheart, will carry my baby in here.”

“Come here,” I say softly, wanting him desperately. The thought that one day I could be a mum and this beautiful man the father of my child lifts my heart. In this moment, I imagine three gorgeous kids, a little boy with Max’s cheekiness, another with Bryce’s empathy and a little girl with Hudson’s stunning sea-green eyes.

Bryce rushes upwards, cups my face with his hands and kisses me hard against the mouth. I press against him, flushed skin against flushed skin, groaning under his lips. He is hard for me and I am wet for him. His hands tangle in my hair. I feel him wrapping a length around his fist before he tugs gently, forcing my head back.

“Bryce,” I whimper as he brushes his lips against my jaw, his teeth grazing over the skin until he reaches my ear lobe, biting down gently just as his fingers tug at my nipple. The combination sends a thrill straight to my crotch. I let out a moan. Bryce twists my head back around, his fist yanking on my hair, a little more sharply this time. Our mouths meet; lips, teeth and tongues clash. My fingernails scrape against his back. My touch is urgent, demanding, and as his cock presses up against my belly I want nothing than to take it in my mouth. I push against his chest, and he immediately frees my hair from his grasp. Worry passes over his features.

“Sweetheart?”

I smile at him, letting him know I am okay. Then I trail my hands over his chest, lowering them to his cock, and fist him at the base. He intakes a sharp breath as I take my turn to kneel in front of him. Looking up from my position on the floor, I sweep my tongue across my lips, wetting them, then open my mouth, gently wrapping my lips around him. A low groan escapes his throat as my fisted hand begins to slide up and down his shaft. I pull him deeper into my throat, wanting to take all of him, wanting to free him of the pain he feels, and blot it out with ecstasy instead. I suck and swirl, sliding my hand in smooth, even strokes, repeating the action over and over. His balls tighten as he rocks his hips, and I know he is on the edge.

“Louisa, no more. I don’t want to come, not like this, not today. Right now, I want to love you, sweetheart,” he says, his hips stilling. A pool of desire fills my chest at his words, his control. I let him go gently, freeing him from my lips, and stand. He pulls me in for a deep kiss, then scoops me up into his arms and lays me on the bed.

“I love you,” he says softly, brushing his lips across my own.

“I love you too.”

In an instant, his fingers are grazing against my clit, the soft pad of his thumb circling with just the right amount of pressure.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, entering me slowly. It is torture, it is heaven.

He wants me to feel every inch of him. He wants to fill me, he wants to connect. Every thoughtful movement he makes, every touch, burns my skin and sets my pulse racing, my heart soaring. Bryce and I don’t fuck, we make love, and every single second is scored into my heart until I can’t take any more of his control. I claw at his back, bite his shoulder. I moan under his touch. This time, it’s me that wants it harder, faster. I want him to bury himself inside me, metaphorically, physically. I want him to find solace in me, with me. I want it all for him.

“Lose yourself, Bryce. Lose yourself with me,” I say, gripping his arse tighter whilst I thrust against him, forcing him to move quicker.

“Sweetheart,” he growls.

“Now, damnit. Let go.”

He pulls out quickly, flipping me over and yanking my hips up so that I’m on all fours. Then he grips me firmly and fucks me from behind. His thrusts are unrestrained, fierce. I push back against him, wanting everything he has to offer, wanting him to leave his mark. I call out his name, not caring the doors are open. I am so near to coming I can barely breathe, my internal muscles squeezing around him. Bryce sucks in a breath, bends forward and slides one hand up between my breasts, pulling me up back against him so that we’re both kneeling on the bed. His arm wraps horizontally across my chest, whilst his other hand finds my clit and presses against it gently. The effect is immediate. The orgasm that rips through us both is almost violent in its intensity. It leaves me a quivering mass of flesh.

“Holy shit, Louisa,” Bryce says, leaning his forehead against my shoulder.

We fall onto the bed, spent. Bryce rolls over to his side, pulling me with him, spooning me, his strong arms folding me back against his chest. He doesn’t pull out of me, we remain joined like this for a long time after both our hearts have finally settled to a more even rhythm. Just like Max and Hudson, this man is my safe haven. He is mine to love, just like I am his. In this moment, I am certain that nothing will ever break us.