CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
June arrived with a mellowing of temperatures and an excess of sunshine. The farm was in full swing as produce poked its green fingers through freshly turned soil. The days were longer and busier. Niko lent a hand whenever he could on the farm. The brewery was booked with bridal showers and baby sprinkles and anniversary celebrations, and Emma was working overtime to keep up with it all.
He was shooting everything these days. The deadline for the upcoming show this month served as creative motivation, and Niko spent long hours capturing his subjects and even longer hours editing. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was reassuring his agent Amara that he hadn’t fallen off the face of the planet or forgotten how to work a camera.
Bruce Oakleigh hadn’t given up on his quest to find Emma the perfect home. Despite her repeated objections that she wasn’t really ready to look for a house, she’d seen a yurt, a tree house, and an eight-bedroom brick mansion that until two months ago had been a funeral home. While Niko enjoyed tagging along with her to view the properties, he’d begun to wonder if Blue Moon had any normal residences.
When they weren’t working or shopping for real estate, he and Emma made up for lost time in the midnight hours. Eva had returned to her Virginia home and, while Emma was sorry to see her sister go, she and Niko took advantage of having the cottage to themselves. Keeping the front door securely locked, they explored each other with the desperation of teenagers.
It worked. They worked. But Niko knew they were both wondering what would happen next. He couldn’t leave his life and work in New York forever. Eventually he would have to return. And what would that mean for his relationship with Emma?
Antsy and needing a change for the afternoon, Niko packed up his laptop and drove his bike into town. He had work to do on the photos he’d culled out for the show. Overly Caffeinated, a spacious café on the corner of Main and Lavender, promised free WiFi and necessary caffeine.
He ordered a coffee from a teenage girl with a spiky cap of orange hair and settled in at a table facing the wide expanse of glass that overlooked the park. He’d already culled out thirty shots for the show. They were different from any of his other work, and that was the beauty of them, he supposed, of going from high fashion, orchestrated photo shoots to capturing and freezing real life moments.
Each picture carried with it a story and a feeling. Hope, friendship, victory… and more. Much more, he thought, opening his favorites of Emma.
It was no surprise how often she’d shown up in the shots for the show. If he were to look at her pictures objectively, as if they were someone else’s, he’d assume that the photographer had strong personal feelings for his subject. There was a kind of magic that translated through the lens when model and photographer were bonded. He could see it in these, he thought slowly clicking through the files.
Emma mid-twirl in her groomsmaid dress. Emma shaking a cocktail behind the bar at the brewery. Emma lecturing staff before the dinner rush. Emma kissing her father at his wedding.
Yes, there were strong feelings there, he thought. Strong, complicated feelings.
There was another one he’d taken recently that he thought might fit. Emma sleeping, the sheets draped and wrapped around her naked body, a hint of a satisfied smile on her lips. They’d made love, and she’d fallen asleep when he went downstairs for water. He hadn’t been able to help himself snapping the picture. The intimacy of the moment, the power of her even asleep.
He inserted the camera card into the slot and waited while his files uploaded.
“Excuse me,” the café’s orange haired barista was back. “We just made these, and we need a taste tester. Fresh organic oat bars,” she said, offering up a smile and a plate with what looked like a granola bar on it.
He wondered what it would be like to go back to New York where no one tried to bribe him with free stuff into liking the community.
“Thanks,” he said, accepting the plate.
The girl wandered off again, and Niko took a bite while he flipped through the pictures. The Knit Off, in its blur of color and action, filled his screen, and he entertained himself flipping through the files. There were a few shots that he could use for the show, he decided, culling them into a separate folder to be edited.
He closed one image and clicked to open the next one, and his organic oat bar lodged in his throat. It wasn’t a shot he’d taken. It was the one he’d asked Evan to take.
Emma was looking up at him and laughing, her hands splayed across his chest as he pulled her into him. But it wasn’t her face that demanded his attention. It was his own. He’d seen that look before, knew it so well that it pulled him back to another time. He hadn’t noticed it. It had crept up on him. But in the picture it was clear that the resemblance to his father was striking as was the expression on his face. Niko was looking at Emma the way his father had looked at his mother in those quiet, private moments when they thought no one else was watching.
It was love.
The realization hit him harder than a ton of bricks dropped from above. He was leveled. He’d known he had feelings for her, strong ones. He just hadn’t realized until this second what those feelings were.
He collapsed back in his chair and stared through the glass to the park where life continued on without any indication that the world had turned upside down.
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Still reeling from his discovery, Niko jumped at the invitation to Man Night Poker at Beckett’s. Emma was working, and he wanted to distract himself with something until he could process his epiphany and decide what, if anything, to do about it.
He arrived early, carting a six-pack and the three foot-longs he’d picked up from Righteous Subs. His knock was answered by the adorable, mischievous Aurora and her guard dog Diesel, an overgrown gray beast that had flunked doggy obedience school twice.
“Hi!” she greeted him with enthusiasm.
“Hey, kid. Are you seven yet?”
“Not yet,” she shook her head. “But soon and then I’ll get presents and cake and there’ll be a party. You can come!” she offered.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said. “Is Beckett home?”
“He and mom are here somewhere. I’ll go find them, and you can play with Diesel and my Barbie,” Aurora said, shoving her doll into Niko’s hand.
The little redhead charged up the stairs calling for “Bucket” and her mom. There was a moment of silence and then a loud thump and a muffled giggle that came from the coat closet.
Niko watched as the doorknob turned as if by invisible fingers. A disheveled Gia poked her head out of the closet into the hallway.
“Crap. Busted,” she whispered over her shoulder.
Beckett, still buttoning his shirt stepped out behind her. “It’s just Niko, not a kid,” he sighed with relief.
“I’m early,” he announced unnecessarily. He tried not to look at them directly in the eye.
Beckett’s hair stood up in tufts. Gia’s skirt was on sideways and her neck was red. She scratched at it absently as the sound of a baby crying wafted down from the second floor. “Damn it! Beard burn,” she muttered. “Hi, Niko. If you tell any of our children where we were, I will make you babysit.”
“I saw nothing,” he promised. Diesel whimpered longingly at the bag of subs. Gia yanked Beckett’s mouth down to hers for one hard kiss before dashing barefoot upstairs.
“Mama’s coming!” she called out.
“So…” Beckett said, buckling his belt.
“So…” Niko looked at his feet.
“Beer?”
“Definitely.”
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“Thanks for coming with me,” Emma said to Phoebe as she signaled a left turn.
“It’s my pleasure. With all the houses your father and I looked at before we decided to build, I kind of miss exploring the weird and wonderful real estate that Blue Moon has to offer.”
“I’ve seen more weird than wonderful,” Emma sighed. “But Bruce was awfully firm about this house being ‘the one.’”
“Did you at least make sure it has a separate bathroom and kitchen?” Phoebe asked.
“I did this time. He assures me it’s a dream home, but I’m afraid that translates into nightmare.” She spotted the house number and parked at the curb. “Oh, this can’t be it,” she breathed.
The red brick house rose three stories high and was tucked into a fenced in lot with an abundance of trees and ferns. The leaves of the dogwood tree in the front yard fluttered in the evening breeze.
“This is… lovely,” Phoebe decided, opening her car door.
“I must have gotten the address wrong,” Emma frowned, checking her phone for Bruce’s text.
“I don’t think so,” Phoebe said, pointing at the for sale sign with Bruce Oakleigh’s mug on it against the sidewalk.
“Maybe the inside is terrible?” Emma murmured, following the brick walkway to the front porch.
“Oh, it wraps around both sides,” Phoebe sighed. “Just think of a porch swing right there and morning coffee and evening wine.”
“Termites. There’s probably an entire termite colony living here,” Emma predicted. “Or black wallpaper. Or maybe a murder-suicide happened here.”
“Only one way to find out.” Phoebe nodded at the front door.
Just as Emma raised her hand to knock, the door flew open and Bruce grinned at them. “Right on time, ladies! Right on time. Now, come in and take a look around. I think you’re going to really like this place.”
An hour later, Emma was in love and trying to talk herself out of it. She could see it, could see herself living here. She’d walked into the stunningly appointed kitchen, with its sexy as hell quartz counter tops and six-burner stove, and envisioned lazy brunches at a table tucked into the bay window. The kitchen opened into the family room at the back of the house. A wall of glass showed off the backyard that begged for a fire pit and a dog.
The formal dining room had soaring ceilings and room for at least a dozen. The master bedroom was four times the size of her postage-stamp sized room now. She smiled, realizing Niko wouldn’t have to duck to get under the showerhead in this bathroom. The third floor library space would be a perfect studio and office for Niko.
And that’s when things fell apart.
Emma wasn’t just envisioning herself in the house. She was picturing Niko editing photos upstairs, sprawled out in front of the fireplace in the formal living room, joining her in the glass shower in the master bathroom.
“Did you see the molding around the doors?” Phoebe gushed as they returned to the first floor via the spectacular staircase at the center of the house that was designed for teenage girls to make their grand entrances on prom night.
“Mmm-hmm.” It was all Emma could get out. Somehow her brain had taken a vacation, and her imagination had built a life around Nikolai Vulkov and this house. Maybe there really was something hallucinogenic in the water in Blue Moon? But she knew the danger in trying to turn “see where this goes” into a concrete future.
“Well, what do you think?” Bruce asked, clasping his hands in front of him.
“It’s wonderful,” Emma admitted. But she needed to decide if it was wonderful because she’d fantasized Niko all over the house or if it really fit what she wanted in a home. “Maybe a little big for just me?”
“It’s a home to grow into,” Bruce said, suddenly serious. “Just imagine all of those bedrooms full with children and guests. Think of how much happiness these walls could hold.”
Emma cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the emotion that had settled there. She could see it. Thanksgivings and birthdays. The gallery dedicated to Niko’s work in the stairway that rose three floors up. She could feel it.
“It’s a possibility,” she said finally.
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Poker night was exactly what he’d needed, Niko decided, taking another bite of superb Italian sub. They crowded around a table on Beckett’s third floor in a spacious room with gabled ceiling and thick carpet. All three Pierce brothers, the off-duty Donovan Cardona, the fully clothed Fitz, and Evan, who at thirteen had a surprising aptitude for the game, settled in for the evening.
Franklin missed the fun to fill in as host in his restaurant, and Niko wasn’t disappointed. He’d never spent time with the father of anyone he was seeing. Though he’d known the man for a year, things were different now. And with everyone around the table knowing that he and Emma were having sex and more, Franklin’s absence was relief.
“How’s it going with the kids?” Niko asked Jax.
Jax scratched his jaw and discarded. “Good. Really good. It’s definitely an adjustment, but I don’t know who it’s harder on, us or them.”
“Still can’t believe you and Joey for all intents and purposes are parents,” Beckett said stroking his beard with a disbelieving shake of his head.
“Said the man wearing a baby,” Jax shot back. Lydia was curled up in her wrap, sound asleep against Beckett’s chest.
“Gia took Aurora to the studio. Lyd’s easy when she sleeps.” Beckett picked up his sub and took a healthy bite.
“Nothing about babies or kids looks easy,” Donovan argued. “First you have babies who are completely dependent on you for everything. Then they turn into kids and teenagers who will do anything to be independent of you. It’s insane.”
“You ever planning on having a family?” Carter asked Donovan, washing down his veggie sub with a swallow of cold beer.
Donovan shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. Probably. Eventually. If I find the right future Mrs. Cardona.”
“Family’s easier with the right partner,” Beckett agreed, folding.
“Someone like Eva Merill?” Niko asked with a sly grin. He had no problem throwing others under the significant other bus.
Donovan shot him a look that made Niko glad the man wasn’t carrying his service weapon.
“You and Aunt Eva?” Evan asked, studying Donovan with a frown.
“What? He’s bang— uh, dating your aunt Emma.” Donovan pointed an accusatory finger in Niko’s direction.
Evan laid the evil eye on Niko and shook his head slowly. “I think they both could do better,” he sighed, straight-faced.
The table busted up, and Niko put Evan in a headlock and ruffled his hair. “Smart ass.”
Evan smirked. “Just be respectful of them and treat them well, and we won’t have a problem.”
Beckett threw his stepson a salute. “Listen to the kid. Because if either of you fuck with either of them, Evan and I are going to start taking names.”
“And kicking ass,” Evan added.
An “ooooh” echoed around the table.
“What? Beckett says I can swear up here as long as I don’t tell Mom or do it at school.”
“I like this kid,” Niko said, jerking his thumb in Evan’s direction.
“I’m telling you. Kids are fucking magic,” Carter grinned, swiftly dealing the cards.
“And fucking monsters,” Beckett said, winking at Evan.
“Magical monsters,” Carter corrected. “It’s not something anyone can prepare you for. If I were to tell you that starting a family is like the best worst thing I’ve ever done, you wouldn’t get it until you were staring at your sleeping baby who spent the last four hours screaming and vomiting on everything you own.”
“It’s the challenge,” Beckett agreed. “Like ‘no, I’m not letting this tiny person break me.’”
Niko glanced down at his cards and tossed more chips into the pot. “I’ve never really thought much about having kids, starting a family,” he admitted.
“Joey and I have been on the fence about it, too,” Jax admitted.
“Really?” Donovan interjected. “I thought you two would end up with a family big enough to require one of those cargo vans.”
Jax shrugged and took a swig of his beer. “We’re not baby people. Give us an Evan and an Aurora, and that’d be awesome.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jax,” Evan said, raising his bottle of root beer in a mock toast.
Jax winked at him. “I think that’s why we’re adjusting pretty well to Reev and Cale. But looking at Puke-a-saurus Rex over there?” he said, pointing to the drooling, unconscious baby strapped to Beckett’s chest. “That terrifies me to my very soul. Besides, can you imagine Joey pregnant and not being allowed to ride?”
Carter shuddered. “You’re right. Don’t do it. We can’t take over the stables and riding program for her.”
Nikolai smirked at the Pierce banter. “So does no babies mean no family?”
Jax frowned. “Not necessarily. Before all this, we hadn’t really talked about anything other than how gross babies are and how awesome it is to sleep in and not be covered in someone else’s puke. You should know we’ve been gloating about how superior our lives are since the twins and Lydia came,” he grinned.
“You paint such a romantic picture of parenthood,” Beckett snorted. Lydia chose that moment to throw up on him in her sleep. “Shit. I hate when Uncle Jax is right.” He reached for his napkin and started mopping up his daughter.
Evan snickered.
“Is there any news on their mom?” Carter asked.
Beckett and Jax shared a quiet look.
Donovan took a drink, set his bottle down. “We tracked her to a motel in Virginia Beach a week ago and then poof. Into the wind. She’ll turn up eventually.”
“What happens in the meantime?” Niko wondered.
Jax cleared his throat. “We’re talking to Mr. Mayor here about drawing up guardianship papers.”
“No shit? Are you serious?” Carter demanded.
“Early talks yet. And we haven’t brought it up with them yet. They may want to wait it out for their mom, or they may not want to stay with us. But Caleb’s learning to ride, and he’s really into cars. Reva’s Joey’s freaking right hand in the stables, and she’s doing better in school now that she’s not trying to support her brother on her own.”
“What made you guys decide to make it permanent?” Niko asked.
Jax ran a hand over the back of his head. “Honestly, we thought our lives were perfect before. Awesome sex life, my career’s great, the breeding program is off to an epic start. But the longer they’re there, the better it feels. They just kinda fit. And they fit in this space that we didn’t even know was empty.
“Plus, and this is really important, neither of them has ever puked all over me,” he grinned.
“Asshole,” Beckett muttered.
“Well, congratulations,” Donovan raised his bottle. “If this works out, you’ll be cutting down on my sleepless nights worrying about dumping those two in foster care.”
“I’d appreciate if you all could keep your traps shut about this until we find the mom and see where everything stands,” Jax said, holding up two fingers for cards.
“She’s got to sign over custody,” Beckett explained. “And she may not be willing.”
“Fuck that,” Niko argued. “She abandoned them.”
Beckett finished mopping up Lydia and himself. “The law’s the law. And we need to be on the right side of it when we’re talking about kids and families.”
“What about you, Fitz? You ever regret not having kids?” Jax asked.
Fitz ran his hand down his braided rattail. “I thoroughly enjoy my bachelorhood.”
“I guess a wife and kids would really interfere with your stripping career,” Jax mused.
“You’re going to have a kid in college,” Carter grinned. “How’s that gloating going?”
“Hey, what are you guys all going to do when your daughters start dating?” Evan piped up.
Niko grinned watching the color slowly drain from the Pierce faces.
“Yeah, Reva’s probably already dating,” Donovan said, feeding the beast. “Have you met any of the guys, or do you think she just sneaks out to meet them? You wouldn’t believe the places I find teenagers making out.”
Jax’s knuckles whitened on the neck of his bottle, and Niko got the feeling he was reminiscing about his high school exploits with newfound regret.
“Can you guys imagine when Aurora starts dating?” Evan mused. “She’s barely controlled chaos now.”
“Hell no. I fold. None of them are ever dating,” Beckett decided, shaking his head. “I can’t handle that. I know what guys are like at that age.”
“We all know what guys are like at that age. We were those guys,” Carter groaned, tossing his cards on the table.
“They actually start younger now,” Donovan said helpfully.
“Oh yeah, I had to chase off a couple of preteens who were necking behind my dumpster at the store,” Fitz agreed. “Turned the garden hose on ‘em.”
“Maybe we can send them all to a private all-girls school?” Beckett wondered.
Jax pulled out his phone. “I’m out. I gotta see if there’s an all girls college with an equestrian program. No way in hell Reva’s going away to school with slobbering, pimply, walking freshman hard-ons.”
Evan raked in the pot and grinned smugly.
“You’ve got baby barf in your beard,” Carter smirked at Beckett.
“Let’s get back to Fitz’s stripping career,” Niko demanded. “I have a lot of questions.”