Epilogue

Does riding dick count as leg day?

-Asking for a friend

Kayla

6 months later

James walked up to the preacher and took the microphone, temporarily making my heart stop.

I thought he was about to voice his concerns, but I should’ve known better.

James, my pseudo father, had never been one to hover.

He loved us. Protected us. But he let us be us.

And I should’ve remembered that.

Not to mention, despite the age gap between Parker and me, he was happy with our relationship. Janie had broken him in to the marriage idea, and now I was just following suit—as Janie and I had always known in our hearts that we would.

“A lot of years ago,” James said as he took the microphone. “I was lying next to your father, in grass that covered our entire bodies, looking through the scope of a rifle as he chatted incessantly into my ear.”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

“While we were lying there, he got me to make a promise to him.” James looked over at me. “That I would read this to you on your wedding day…so here it goes.”

James pulled out a piece of paper that looked like it’d been through wars—and it probably had been.

It was dirty, dingy, worn and weathered, likely due to the fact that my dad had been in a war zone while he’d written it.

Kayla,

If you’re hearing this letter, it’s because I didn’t make it.

I know that James kept his promise, so I also know that you are listening to this being read to you on your wedding day.

And, I just want to say to the man who is marrying my baby…you’re not good enough for her.

James looked pointedly at Parker, and I started to cry harder.

Parker reached forward and pulled me into his arms, bringing his hand up to my face and pressing it against my cheek as he swept away my tears with his thumb.

My breathing hitched.

The moment that you came kicking and screaming into my life, I knew that my entire world had changed. You were everything that I ever wanted in life. You inspired me, you encouraged me, and you were the sweetest little girl that I ever had the pleasure of meeting.

It breaks my heart that I’m not going to be there today to walk you down the aisle, but I know that my friends—my brothers—are there.

My eyes went from James and then to Sam, Elliott, Gabe, Jack, and Max. All of them wore similar expressions of grief.

They’d been my rocks over the years that I’d grown up, and they’d done exactly like they’d told my father that they were going to do.

I want you to know that I loved you. I want you to know that one day when you bring your own baby into the world, that you’ll break off a little piece of your heart and give it to them. You have a piece of my heart, and you’re holding it within you. You’re never going to be without me, baby. One day you will see.

I moaned into Parker’s chest as I raised my arm up and clutched the golden locket that my dad had given me the day before he deployed.

Parker gave up wiping away my tears and wrapped his arms completely around me, dropping his head down to rest on mine.

For now, I want to address the man that you’re marrying.

James looked at Parker, and I started to giggle through my tears.

Parker dropped a kiss to my face and loosened his grip but didn’t let me go so much as an inch.

You are getting the greatest gift that I have to give. You, my friend, better cherish her. She is everything in this world to not just me, but to six men that I have no doubt won’t hesitate to kick your ass if you deserve it.

Parker started to laugh, the deep rumble warming my heart.

But, since I know that my baby wouldn’t have gotten to this part if she didn’t love you, I know that you’ll treat her right. I know that she’ll become your heart, just like she was once mine. Remember this, though. I loved her first. I held her first. I rocked her while she cried. I kissed her first boo boo. I nursed her through sicknesses and health. She was mine first, and, a part of her will always be mine.

Now, though, she’s more yours than she ever was mine.

I want you to cherish every single second that you have with her. I want you to love her like she’s meant to be loved. I want you to yell at her when she’s being stupid and laugh when she’s being funny. I want you to hug her and cherish her. I want you to make lots of babies with her. I want you to grow old with her and never forget that she’s the best thing that you’ll ever be given.

Because I know.

She was the best thing to ever happen to me. The one thing that I fought for.

At this point, I started bawling again, and James looked like he wouldn’t be able to take much more.

Because I saw that, despite me not being his biological daughter, he felt the same way.

Now, all of you need to stop crying like little titty babies and get on with the ceremony. And when you drink afterwards—and I know you will because my friends, Gabe, Max, Sam, James, Elliott, and Jack wouldn’t go to a wedding without beer—I want you to drink one for me.

I love you all.

And baby girl, you’ve made me the proudest father that ever was. I love you more than most. You’re my heart and soul. And I’m happy to know that you’ve finally found someone to share his chicken nuggets with you.

I drew a deep breath and rubbed my face on Parker’s chest, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“I got your shirt wet,” I whispered roughly.

He winked. “You can get my shirt wet anytime.”

Then he dropped a soft kiss to my lips and smoothed the stray tears off of my face. “Now let’s finish getting married, honey. Seems I have a drink to dedicate to a great man.”

One more single tear streaked down my cheek.

“No more crying, honey,” he ordered. “It’s time to laugh now.”

“Speaking of laughing…” Rafe said from his position at Parker’s side. He’d taken best man duties over from Gunner who hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding thanks to the All-Star Game that he was required to go to. “You know, I’m really, really glad that I don’t have to impregnate your wife.”

Parker looked at him with a deadly silence about him that would’ve been unnerving had he been giving me that same look.

“Come again?”

I started to nervously giggle. “Funny story. So Janie and I had this pact…”

***

1 year married

Parker

“What are you doing?” Kayla asked me as she dropped down heavily onto the couch beside me.

I raised a brow at her in question as I looped my arm around her shoulders and tugged her in close to me.

“Why are your hands closed?” she pushed.

I brought one hand from around her and showed her what was in my palm.

“What are you doing with that?” she questioned.

“Hatching it.”

“Why?”

“Because Abrielle put it in my hand and told me to keep it warm,” I explained.

“Abrielle is two, not eight. She didn’t ask you this.”

I shrugged. “Actually, she handed it to me and told me to ‘open.’ So, I had to warm it up first, per the instructions.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward, then flopped down farther on the couch, repositioning her body for her comfort, rather than mine.

Kayla was now thirty-eight weeks pregnant with our son, and I knew she was more than ready to be done.

She was beautiful, but, according to her, she felt like a beached whale who was about to give birth to twins.

Luckily, we knew for a fact that there was only one in there. We also knew that it was a boy thanks to a blood test that she had around the twelve-week mark.

Though, he was big according to the doctor. They guestimated he was weighing in at close to eight pounds now, and they expected him to grow at least another pound between now and the finish line.

Abrielle came barreling back into the room, naked again, with Rafe on her heels moments after Kayla got comfortable more on my lap than off.

Her belly was facing upwards, and our son was currently doing acrobats in there. Which caught Abrielle’s attention.

The little girl ran up to her and pressed her forehead against Kayla’s belly. “Tell him to talk to me!”

***

5 years married

Kayla

“It’s in one minute!” Parker bellowed.

I looked down at the state of my clothes.

I had the stomach flu. I’d been in the bathroom for the better part of the night.

It was New Year’s Eve.

I was fairly sure I had vomit in my hair, but I was too exhausted to get up and take myself to the bed because I knew that in just a matter of moments I would have to repeat the whole process over again.

Want to know what love is?

Love is when your husband of five years walks into that bathroom, ignores the smell of vomit, and the state of your hair, and gives his wife a kiss despite her highly contagious self.

He gives her a good kiss, too. One that made my toes curl despite feeling like shit.

Grinning, I laid my head back down on the blanket that he’d been kind enough to go retrieve for me.

He backed away moments later and exited the bathroom.

I laid there and tried to think of something—anything—else.

My son, Abram, could be heard somewhere in the back part of the house—far away from me—screeching in excitement because Parker had allowed him ‘champagne’ that actually happened to be sparkling grape juice.

Our daughter, Elinore, was luckily still sound asleep despite the obnoxious noise of our neighbors setting off a thousand dollars’ worth of fireworks. Though, from what Parker says, the display was fairly spectacular.

Not that I would know.

From my vantage point, I only had three walls and a closed door to look at.

But every ten minutes or so, Parker would send me a picture of them, and I would smile despite the pain.

That was what love was.

Stupid text messages, short phone calls, and I love you kisses.

The only thing missing from my perfect life was my dad—but I knew that wherever he was, he was smiling.

***

Twenty-eight years married

Janie and Kayla were hanging onto each other crying their eyes out. Rafe and I stood next to each other, staring at the spectacle before us.

“Do you have to pay for the wedding, or do I?” Rafe asked.

I stared, watching my son get up off one knee and wrapping Abrielle in his arms as he pressed his lips to her neck.

Kayla and Janie were right. Abrielle and Abram were best friends. They had been from the moment Abram had been born. They grew up together. They spent their lives together, and when Abrielle was eighteen, and Abram sixteen, their relationship morphed from best friends to something more.

Now, here we were eight years later, and my son had just proposed.

“I think you do,” I paused. “I think it’s the father of the bride’s job to do that.”

“Fuck you. You have just as much money as I do.”

That was true. I did.

“Okay. I’ll pay half,” I offered. “But you’re covering the alcohol.”

He snorted. “I think we should offer up a bar, but you have to self-pay. The boys can drink.”

That they could.

Abram joined us moments later as Abrielle ran to Kayla and Janie. Both women wrapped their arms around each other, and I looked at my son.

“You know what you just did, don’t you?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You made their dreams come true…and I’m not talking about just Abrielle’s.”

Abram’s lips kicked up, his smile so much like my own.

“Damn straight. I’d do anything for them.”

I slapped my son on the back, then offered Rafe my hand. “Care for a beer?”

“You don’t drink beer when tequila is the answer.”

I snorted as I walked away, Rafe at my back.

Each of us watched as for the rest of the night our women did nothing but smile.

And when Kayla joined me in our bed much later in the early morning hours, we made love like we’d been doing for the last twenty-eight years.

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy you’re happy, baby.”

Then I held her for the rest of the night, as I would for the rest of our lives.