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There’s a grunt and the guy disconnects, leaving us alone with Lake and completely astonished.
“He’ll handle it. I’m sure you’ll be getting a call in a few minutes, Logan, regarding the situation.”
“Ok, sweetheart, can you tell us what’s going on now?” Ev asks.
“Oh, right. I can’t discuss much out in the open like this. I can tell you everything at my place, because I know the security is sufficient. Basically, I work as a white hat hacker for the CIA. Everything is government sanctioned, and I’ve never once gone rogue.”
I have to say, I’m not even that surprised. Ev wraps his arms around himself. “That was kind of anticlimactic, actually.”
Lake looks at both of us. “Really?”
“Yeah, I kind of suspected that. And a lot of things are starting to make sense now.”
“You’re not mad?”
I hug him close to me. “No, Little Bird. We’re not mad. I understand how you wouldn’t be able to tell us.”
“No, sweetheart, I’m not mad. I definitely have some questions, but they can wait. ”
Ev jerks his head in the direction of the house. “Can we head back now? It’s freezing and I don’t want to miss dessert. Your dad made the most bomb-looking apple pie.”
“Apple pie?” I ask excitedly. Now that I’m not terrified, I’m fucking starving.
“My dad makes an amazing pie. I’m pretty sure that’s how he convinced my mom to marry him.”
We all laugh and head back to the house. Sure enough, before we even get there, I get a text from my buddy. The lieutenant got the dressing down of his life from the director of the CIA, and Seth is being sent to some maximum security prison where he’ll probably be buried under red tape until the day he dies. Holy shit, my man can be scary when he needs something done.
I show him the text, and Lake just smiles. That’s it. It makes me wonder why Lake never did this to Seth before now, but it’s not the time to ask.
As we approach the house, we can see the whole family hovering on the front porch, freezing their asses off and waiting to see what’s going on. I make sure it’s clear that all three of us are holding hands so they know whatever happened, we’re ok.
Lake kisses each of us before grabbing his brother and Dad and bringing them to the side. I know he’s telling them Seth won’t be a problem for a long ass time, if at all. I feel warm inside when they all hug each other, Lake and River in tears. Mr. C senses they need a minute and begins to usher the rest of us inside. It seems in the time we were gone, Zoe, Avery, and Lucy all showed up, resulting in a full house of nosy ass people.
But once we’re inside, Mr. C is dishing out desserts, and everyone forgets about the drama.
Later, as I’m curled up on the couch with my two men, eating my third slice of apple pie, I’m left with a feeling of satisfaction. This is where I’m meant to be. They may not be my blood family, but they’re my family all the same.
TWENTY-NINE
EVANDER
“Babe, are you opening up a bakery and just forgot to tell me?” I glare at Logan as he lets himself into Lake’s house. He’s just come from the gym and is wearing formfitting joggers that make his ass look incredible with a skintight Under Armour long-sleeve top. I scowl before turning back to my baking. It should be a crime to look that good coming from the gym.
I’m impressed we both ended up at the right house at the right time. Managing three homes has gotten old, fast. I find myself daily wondering if it’s too soon to mention moving in together. Every day is a new mass text trying to coordinate who’s going to be where and which house we’re meeting at tonight. I’m freaking tired of having to pack bags and, even worse, looking for a specific pair of pants for the one day in two weeks I actually have to go into the office and realizing that those pants are in Jersey and I’m in Brooklyn at Logan’s apartment.
Today, though, there’s no coordination or argument, because we’ve known for weeks we’re going to be at Lake’s house. That’s because Lake is getting his first ultrasound today. While a blood test confirmed the pregnancy early on, the doctors waited until he was over eight weeks to do the ultrasound. Unfortunately, Logan and I weren’t able to go since we’re not actually the fathers of this baby, but I’m still as anxious as a first-time father. Lake is so determined to do this surrogacy right, and I’m terrified something is going to go wrong.
This isn’t why I’ve been stress baking all day. It didn’t take long for me to discover that I need an outlet besides work and the gym when both Logan and Lake are working. And lately, Lake is always working. In the weeks since that debacle with his father, Lake’s boss has been giving him the worst assignments. He’s had to travel three times in the last few weeks, though thankfully, they have all been short trips. With Lake hidden away in some country I’m not even allowed to know the name of, and Logan out on the streets trying to find missing children, I found out quickly that I need something to distract me.
That turned out to be baking. Good thing it’s almost Christmas time, because Logan isn’t wrong. I baked enough to feed everyone in Lake’s development.
“Shut up, Lo. It’s not like you’re not benefitting from this. Don’t eat the pumpkin bread. I’m freezing it and giving it to Essie when she comes back for winter break next week.”
Logan pouts like he’s a small child but I refuse to be swayed. There’s plenty for him to eat. “I made you two loaves of banana bread. You don’t even like pumpkin.”
“I never said that.”
“You went on a twenty-minute rant about how pumpkin spice is the worst flavor you’ve ever had and you don’t understand how it became so popular. I think your exact words were, ‘I’d rather eat nothing but brussel sprouts for the rest of my life than pumpkin.’”
