Page 51 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

“I think we should have a celebration dinner tonight, what do you think?” Kendra asks, apprehensively nibbling her lip in a way that is so unlike her. Normally she proclaims plans with our friend group and just starts making things happen. But when it comes to me and Wren, Kendra proceeds with caution in all matters.

“That sounds great. I want nothing more than to commemorate today with my girls,” I say. Bending down, I kiss Kendra gently on the lips for the first time since the photo booth, leaving her totally dazed as I scoop Wren into my arms.

“Mr. Hargrove,” Judge Andrews addresses me, “your paperwork is all in order here. Home study has been done and approved, DNA results show beyond any doubt that you are indeed Wren’s biological father.” He slowly flips through the file in front of him.

Wren fusses in my arms and I adjust her, shushing her softly, kissing her temple.

“By signing the official birth certificate today, Mr. Hargrove, you not only wish to proclaim that you are her father, but to assume sole custody henceforth, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. Her biological mother is not in the picture, and I am prepared to be Wren’s full-time caregiver with the support of my family and close friends.” I feel sweat slip down my back despite the chilly courtroom.

“You do have a detailed plan laid out here. And we have the letter submitted to be on record from her birth mother that was left with Wren in the Safe Haven box on July twenty-first . . . Being a single parent is difficult.” He gives me an assessing look.

“Your honor, if I may, I understand that. My mother was a single parent.” I nod to my mom and sisters sitting behind me in the courtroom, here to support me on this big day. “And I know how hard it was for her. I want to give Wren what I didn’t have, and that is a loving father that shows up for her. Now that she is in my life, I can’t imagine ever being away from her. I promise, sir, I understand that this is the most important job I will ever have.” I swallow hard and try to hold back the tears I feel pooling in my eyes.

My lawyer, Grady Phillips, pats me on the shoulder in support and nods his head.

“Mr. Hargrove, I wish all parents that walked into my courtroom and stood there expressed at least half as much compassion and commitment to their children as I see you have for Wren. I read in your file that you had no idea that the birth mother was even pregnant? So you have completely flipped your life around from the moment you found out about your daughter?”

“That’s correct, sir,” I say, kissing the top of Wren’s head again, and she nuzzles into me and grabs on to my tie.

“Well then, congratulations, Mr. Hargrove. I am placing you on the birth certificate, approving the name you chose for your daughter when she was born, and granting you sole custody of Wren Elizabeth Hargrove. Should the birth mother, Skylar Marks, come back into the picture she will have to go through the courts to petition for visitation rights and so forth.” Judge Andrews smiles at me from his place at the front of the courtroom, granting me all my dreams like a goddamn magical wizard, robes and all.

“Thank you so much.” I grin, this time not stopping the tear as it rolls down my face.

41

Eli

Leaving Wren was too much for me to handle. I had to take more time off, so I put in for FMLA and had a full twelve weeks with her, and then put in an additional week extension when Kendra was attacked to stay home and take care of her—but now it’s past mid-October and I have to go back to work. After seeing my name on her birth certificate and the judge officially proclaiming me as her father on paper as well as her only legal guardian, I wanted more time with her not less.

Fatherhood makes me ache deep in my soul in a way that I can’t explain. All I know is that Wren is my purpose, and I thank God she’s in my life making me a better man. Going to work is part of being that man: taking care of her, providing a paycheck, insurance for the two of us—stability. Some might argue that having a firefighter for a father won’t give her a stable upbringing, but I know that’s bullshit. I see my friends, the brothers I have at the station, raising amazing families that support them right back as they serve and protect our community. It’s something to be proud of, something to admire. I’ve always looked up to those guys, what they had and built, never thinking I’d ever step into their shoes.

The only solace in going back to the station is the fact that I have my mom to help me, and that Kendra is still living with us full time. She is healing and has not once talked about leaving.

We went to a couple more checkups last week, and her doctors are all happy with her progress. Kendra’s ribs are healed. Her pink hard cast was removed and she was put into a soft cast, which she was so happy about. It’s not total freedom, but a step in the right direction. Her arm will be weak even after that soft cast time is completed. She will have to work her way back into her normal activities and most likely need physical therapy, which I know she isn’t happy about. The incision from her surgery has healed beautifully and causing her no issues.

What made Kendra the happiest, however, was when the doctor gave her the all clear to be able to hold Wren and help with her. She won’t be able to do a lot of things and still has to take it easy for a couple of weeks, but all Kendra wanted was to be able to have Wren in her arms—something she has mentioned over and over while she has been on her restrictions. I would have assumed the thing she’s longing for most would be to hold the clay in her studio she is so connected to, but I was wrong.

“Eli, you have to leave or you’re going to be late.” Kendra looks at my freshly shaven face. She is rocking Wren in the living room, feeding her a bottle, looking like my dream come true.

“I’m going to miss you both so fucking much,” I whine, not caring that I sound like a total pussy.

The time at home with the two of them has felt so special, sacred—even if it came from such a dark and terrible situation. The silver lining was getting the three of us under one roof, spending time together, Kendra and I getting to know each other again, forming a new kind of bond. The teasing we do now doesn’t feel mean and aggressive, especially what comes off Kendra. There is a fun banter that I crave. The spark in Kendra that had dimmed after her attack is slowly coming back, and I like to hope that being here with me and Wren has had something to do with it.

“Hear that, peanut? Daddy hasn’t even left yet and he already misses you.” Kendra grins at Wren, then looks up at me, her sliver-blue eyes twinkling with the mischief that I have missed.

“Call me that again,” I demand.

“What?” She acts innocent, batting her eyelashes at me.

I advance on her, cock thickening in my pants at her words and attitude. “You know exactly what, sweetheart.” I cage her in, running my nose along her cheek and up then down the shell of her ear, getting a thrill when she sucks in a sharp, surprised breath. I nip her earlobe and whisper, “I will make you say that again, but under very different circumstances.”

“Promises, promises. I’m sure you say that to them all,” Kendra quips, a little breathy, as I pull back to look at her squarely in the face in time to see her eye-roll.

“Absolutely not,” I growl at her accusation.

I grip the front of her throat gently and pull her mouth to mine in a claiming kiss, unable to stay away any longer, needing to leave this house—her here alone overnight for the first time—having her know how much deeper my feelings for her are. She moans and melts into my touch, and my tongue sweeps into her mouth, rough and passionate. I reluctantly pull away, only because I can’t be late. If I let myself have just one more taste of her lips, I won’t walk out the door.