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“Fuck.” He steps away and grabs the back of his neck, his head falling forward. “I can’t—” He shakes his head and looks back up. “This just feels wrong.”
“I get it. You need time, and we’ll give that to you. But you need to understand, so long as Aleah wants me, she’ll have me. I’m sorry, son, but there’s no changing that. Either you can come to grips with it, or you can’t.”
His lips tighten and little lines form beside his eyes as he stares at me. I hate that what Aleah and I have has put a strain on my relationship with Bryan, but what I said was the truth. I love my son, but I love Aleah too. I would never be able to choose between the two, so I hope Bryan can learn to live with this change.
After a moment of tense silence, he finally jerks up his chin.
“This goes against everything inside me, but if this is what you two truly want, then there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I still don’t like it, and it’ll take me time to accept it, but it looks like I’ve got no choice.”
“Thank you,” I say gruffly.
Aleah walks straight into Bryan’s arms, and he embraces her tightly. He says something in her ear that has her nodding her head against his chest. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I stand back and watch them. As weird as it may seem, given the circumstances, I still look at them as step-brother and step-sister.
Bryan lets Aleah go and she moves back to my side, placing her hand on my stomach. Bryan watches as I put my arm around her waist, giving his head a little shake. A moment passes before his phone chirps from his pocket, and he pulls it out to look at the screen.
“Charlotte will be here in a minute,” he comments. “I’m going to head her off before she comes in. I want to explain this to her myself.”
I nod.
We follow him to the front door just as Charlotte pulls into the driveway. Bryan turns back to us, holding the open door. His eyes move back and forth between Aleah and me before they settle on Aleah.
“Just so you know, I’m never calling you Mom.”
Aleah lets out a strangled laugh and Bryan and I chuckle.
“I’d probably kick your ass if you ever did,” she says with laughter still in her eyes.
“I’ll let you know if dinner is still on for tomorrow. Charlotte and I may need a few days.”
“Understandable.”
I hold my hand out to him. He looks at it a moment before grabbing it for a shake. I yank him forward and pat his back. In his ear, I whisper, “Thank you.”
A grunt is his only reply.
I can’t imagine how hard this is on him, and I don’t expect him to be kosher with it just yet, but I’m glad he’s willing to try.
Aleah and I wave at Charlotte still sitting in the car as Bryan gets inside on the passenger side. Once they drive away, I close the door. Aleah’s facing me when I turn around, her head tilted to the side curiously.
“You love me?” she asks softly.
I pull her into my arms. Looking down, in a quiet voice matching hers, I ask, “Did you doubt it?”
“Yes. No.” She shakes her head, looking unsure. “I don’t know. I mean, I know you love me, but I never dreamed you’d love me like you told Bryan.”
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and leave my hand cupping her cheek. “It may have started out as innocent, but it grew into something more when I didn’t see you as my step-daughter anymore.”
“I feel the same way.” Grabbing the back of my hand, she brings my palm to her mouth and places a soft kiss there. “I’ll always be grateful to you for being there for me growing up. You were a father to me when I needed one. But now, I don’t need or want you in that way anymore. My wants are much more,” she grins saucily at me as she takes my hand and presses it between her legs, “filthy.”
A deep growl leaves my throat as I press the heel of my palm against her warm pussy. “My filthy little tease. Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.”
Epilogue
SPENCER
Looking out toward the backyard, I laugh as our son chases after my wife with the water hose. She giggles, darting this way and that, pretending like she’s trying to get away from him. She was watering the lilies she planted at the beginning of summer when Tyler offered to water them for her. She should have known better, and I could have warned her, but this way is so much more fun.
Tyler turned six years old last week. From the moment he slipped into the world screaming his lungs out, he’s been a rambunctious child. Looking down at the tuft of black, fuzzy hair of my sleeping four-month-old daughter, I hope we dodged that bullet with Layla.
