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“She has a husband?” Emerson gasps, trying to recoil her hand, but I hold it steady.
I shake my head vehemently. “No, no. She’s a widow.” Emerson lets out another gasp.
“Her husband had been an up-and-coming fighter when we were a little younger. Do you ever remember me mentioning Daniel Tate from Shelby, North Carolina?”
“Yes, of course. We used to watch him on the Ultimate Fighter,” Emerson responds, and I smile at the memory. I’m pretty sure everyone in the state of North Carolina who liked MMA was cheering on the local boy when he was on the UFC reality TV show.
“Oh my gosh… I remember how tragic his death was. He was her husband?” Emerson asks, sympathy and astonishment bleeding into her voice.
I nod, keeping my eyes on the road as I make the final turn toward our destination. “Yes, so that night, after many drinks, we bonded over our broken hearts.” Sadness tries to creep in at the thought of how low I was back then from losing her. “Both of us were very honest with the other that there would be no love involved.”
“Shit,” Emerson breathes out. “How the hell could I be mad at that? More than anything, it breaks my heart.”
“I get it, though. If the roles were reversed, I would have knocked him out and thrown him in the pool at Greyson’s that day.” I chuckle, but know it's the truth. Just the image of her coach touching her that night at Cliff’s after the fight has my blood boiling.
“And to set the record straight, since you mentioned it the other night. After the cookout at G and Lottie’s, Leslie did spend the night, but she took the guest room. Before I moved things out for the crib, I had a bed in there for Ford.”
“Why?” she whispers, wanting the reassurance that it was because of her.
“Because I had spent the day staring at the love of my life and my son. And she knew it too. Knew it the minute she saw me watching you at Cliff’s house after the fight.”
Emerson leans across the center console of my Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT. Kissing under my ear, she whispers, “Good answer, Champ.” Then she reaches her hand between my legs, squeezing my already hardening cock with a lick up my neck.
“I still fucking hate the fact she had you inside of her…” She rubs her hand over my pants, finding the tip of my pierced cock. “I hate that she felt this before I did. That anyone other than me felt it.”
My head falls back against the headrest, keeping my eyes focused on the road. “You are lucky our son is in this car, or I’d make you choke on my cock.” I chance a glance at her. That plush bottom lip between her teeth does nothing to calm my rock-hard dick. “I may not trust myself to drive and get sucked by you, but don’t think I won’t pull this car over and find a deserted back road to bend you over this seat on—while shoving your face into the leather so you don’t wake him.”
The way she squeezes my cock again tells me she may want exactly that. But apparently, Kiran’s cock-block radar is already intact because, just as my eyes start searching for the right turn-off, his cries filter through the car.
Emerson groans and kisses my neck, “Later, baby,” before she reaches her arm into his car seat to soothe him.
And I smile at how perfect my life feels.Blue balls and all.
* * *
Kiran’s armsflail to get down as soon as he sees the little goats walking around on the sidewalks. He runs toward them, surprisedly scaring me more than the animals, as I chase behind him.
Emerson hands him the ice cream cone filled with the food we bought on our way into the petting zoo. “Hold this, buddy, see if he’s hungry,” she says while helping him so it doesn’t all end up on the ground.
I snap a few pictures of them. The happiness on both of their faces is the most priceless thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
“Goat…goat!” Kiran says, learning what I assume will be his new favorite word, replacing “Duck.” My guy loves animals, which is one of the reasons I knew Tweetsie Railroad would be the perfect date to take them on.
“Daddy, we may have to buy some more food.” Emerson giggles, holding up the small piece of cake cone left.
But I’m stuck in place. That’s the first time she’s referred to me as “Daddy,” and it hits me hard. Like the best punch to the gut I’ve ever taken. Concern etches across Emerson’s face, most likely at the emotion in my eyes. Until a big smile takes over my expression once again. Face brightening, she picks up Kiran and moves toward me. I wrap them both in an embrace, kissing the tops of their heads.
Kiran’s handsome green eyes look up at me as he touches my cheek. “Daddy loves you, Lil’ Champ. Forever.” I’ve never loved anyone faster and deeper than I do him.
I’m sure I immediately loved my mom as a newborn, but of course I don’t remember that. My dad was someone who didn’t deserve the affection I did have for him. I didn’t always understand the emotions I felt for my brother as a kid. Maturity allowed me to grasp the depths of adoration I truly have for him. Even my love for Emerson took time to recognize. Now I know it started the very first second I laid eyes on her. I didn’t understand the intensity and magnetism I felt toward her until years later. But with Kiran, it's all at once, lay down my life for his, never want to know an existence without him in it, immediate type of love.
We buy not one but five more cones of food for the animals, and he loves every second of it. I finally bribe him with riding the train to convince him to leave the petting zoo area.
“I know bribery is supposedly not the correct parenting technique, but hey…I’m new at this thing,” I say, and Emerson giggles.
“Shit. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.”
Kiran lays his head against my shoulder as I carry him down the hill.
