Excitement.
Love.
“Can I call you Grandma too?” Emmie asked Maggie, cheeks pink with excitement. “Just sometimes, if you don’t want it all the time. My Grandma Blake says I say her name too much sometimes.”
My throat closed as Maggie chuckled, hugging Emmie tighter. “You’re Grandma is a saint for having you both all to herself for the last few years without reinforcements!” Maggie said and then winked at me over my daughter’s shoulder, “But we’re here now to help. And you can call us whatever your little hearts desire.”
My kids had never known this kind of unconditional acceptance from people that weren’t related to them by blood.
Hell, even the other half of their bloodline had never even accepted them like this.
We belonged here.
Later that night,the kids were curled up in a fort made of quilts and sheets in their new play area in the loft, bellies full, eyes heavy and laughter echoing down through the railing as the evening wound down.
Eli ducked upstairs a couple of different times to check on them as Travis cleaned up the last of the dishes that he and his dad had hand-washed together.
Maggie slid onto the couch beside me with two steaming mugs of tea, as Hal lowered himself down into the chair opposite us, his big hands folded over his knee, watching me with a kind of quiet patience that made me fidget.
“You did good with those two,” Maggie said, her chin dipping to the railing where Emmie and Toby’s squeals of laughter sang out. “They’re polite, funny, full of spirit.” She patted my knee, “That’s no accident, sweetheart.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, compliments had always been hard to take, especially about my kids. Thanks to always feeling like I wasn’t enough for them. “They’re a handful most days,” I admitted softly, “But they’re good at their core.”
Hal chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “The best kind of handful there is.” His gaze shifted, sharp but not unkind. “Travis and Eli—they don’t hand their hearts over easily. But I’ve never seen them look at anyone the way they look at you. Or at those kids.”
Maggie reached for my hand, squeezing it, “We want you to know that we don’t care what it looks like from the outside; two men, one woman. What we see is love. And that’s all that matters.”
Her words cracked something open in my chest. For a long moment I couldn’t speak. I stared at the fire instead, blinking against the sting in my eyes. “I don’t—I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whispered, the truth slipping out before I could catch it. “I feel like I’m living someone else’s fairy tale, and at any moment I’m going to wake up and they’re going to snatch it all back from me.” I sighed, taking a deep breath, “This home. These men. It’s too good to be true. And I’m scared I’m going to mess something up for the kids now that they’re involved.”
“Every mother thinks she’s going to screw her kids up.” Maggie chuckled affectionately. “Every stern word, or lost patience, small injury, or failing grade.” She sighed, “The fact that you’re worried about it means you’re doing better than most.”
Hal leaned forward, his eyes warm and certain. “We’re glad they’ve got you, Frankie. We never in a million years imagined this layout for Travis’s life, and hell, Eli’s been a second kid to us for decades and we wouldn’t have guessed this for him either. But now that we’re here, and we see it, we’re so damn happy for them. Don’t let doubt steal what’s right in front of you.”
It wasn’t approval I heard in his tone, which was what I had been hoping for out of the evening. It was acceptance.
And for the first time in a long, long while, I let myself believe maybe—just maybe—we’d found a place to belong.
Frankie did incredibly well meetingTrav’s parents, but I knew she would. She had been a ball of nerves all damn day, but the moment they showed up, giving her their unwavering acceptance and love, she melted into it.
I didn’t realize how badly she wanted to belong until I sat back and watched her finally let her walls down completely for them. Because of them.
Trav saw it too. At one point we locked eyes across the room, and it felt like something hit me straight in the chest.
They were ours.
Frankie and the kids, they belonged to us. Those kids were ours, and they’d never have to go without a father figure in their lives again. Now they had two.
When Hal and Maggie finally went home, Hal practically dragged Maggie out the door when she didn’t seem interested in leaving the cozy warm atmosphere in the cabin, Frankie was dead on her feet.
It was as if as soon as the front door closed, her body finally fell out of survival mode and the exhaustion kicked in.
Even as she crawled into bed, wearing a cute little nightgown with a lace edge that barely contained her lush cleavage and full ass, she didn’t prioritize herself.
“You were promised things,” She smiled up at me sleepily, “You orchestrated things.”
“We’ll get there some other time,” I kissed her nose, pulling the blankets up over her. “Sleep now, though.”
She pouted and turned to Trav on the other side of the bed as he pulled a pair of sweatpants on, shirtless, almost like he’d give in to her temptations. But our priority was always her needs, even above our own.
