Beckett’s head snapped toward mine as we reached a red light, and I felt a split-second of guilt. Did Beckett know how Chaos had felt about me? Or the way I’d felt about him?
His gaze dropped to the photo. “He’s third from the left.”
I searched the picture, hungry for my first sight of Chaos as we pulled into a parking spot in front of the restaurant. There was Beckett, serious as always… “There are two other soldiers three rows in.” Both had thick, short beards and sunglasses on.
The driver’s side door shut. Beckett had already killed the ignition and gotten out of the truck.
“I guess that subject’s closed,” I muttered, examining the faces one last time before sliding them back in the envelope with a heavy heart. Would I ever get to look again? Ever get the chance to ask questions?
I put the pictures back into the glove box just before Beckett opened my door and helped me down. Heels and running boards weren’t always the easiest combo. Then we walked into the restaurant, a little family-owned Italian place I loved.
When we reached our table, Mark was already waiting, and stood.
“Whoa. Gutierrez?” Beckett asked as Mark came around the table and kissed my cheek.
“Nice to see you, Gentry. Shall we sit?”
Beckett held out my chair, and I took it, scooting in. It was an almost archaic gesture, but it made me feel protected, cared for, and a little off-balance.
“So you don’t just run the rescue crew,” Beckett said as the men took their seats.
“Nope, I’m just a volunteer. Keeps me on my toes, and it’s not like there’s a ton of family law business here in Telluride.” He shrugged. “Kind of like you, just doing it for fun, now.”
Beckett nodded slowly.
“So I guess you two know each other,” I said lightly, even though the moment felt anything but. “Thank you, Mark, for meeting us on a Saturday night. I know you and Tess have date night.”
“No problem. She’s actually in Durango for the weekend with the kids. Trust me, I’d much rather be here with you than having dinner with my mother-in-law. Now what’s up?”
“Want to fill him in on your proposal?” I asked Beckett, and he took the reins.
It took a glass of wine and all of dinner, but he explained everything as thoroughly as possible, from the treatments, the bills, the insurance, to his idea of marriage.
Ella Gentry.
I mentally smacked that picture out of my mind. I’d gotten married on a whim once, and a second time was definitely not in the cards. I didn’t care how good his name sounded attached to mine.
“Do you want to marry Ella?” he asked Beckett as the waitress cleared our plates.
“Would you want to marry a woman who had no interest in marrying you?” Beckett answered.
My head snapped to look at him. No interest? It wasn’t lack of interest in Beckett, it was an overwhelming interest in my sanity and…logic.
“But I would, if that’s what she wan—needed,” Beckett finished.
Great. Now I was the damsel. All I needed was a giant light-up sign above my head that flashed with the words “in distress,” and my life would be complete.
“Okay, then let’s not push that option,” Mark said, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “No one wants an arranged marriage here. So, Ella. Now that I have a good idea of what’s going on, it’s your turn. On the phone you mentioned an idea?”
“Right.” I pivoted in my chair to look at Beckett. “What you’re offering is to basically make Maisie your daughter? Right? Even if it’s only on paper?”
“Yes. Colt, too…as my son, obviously. Legally.”
Just the words sent a spiraling warmth through my belly, or maybe that was the wine. Either way, it gave me the courage to continue.
“I’m a little damaged.”
He quirked an eyebrow as if to say tell me something I don’t know.
“And sometimes that damage blinds me. It gets in my way and holds me back. And I’m okay with that. But I’m not okay with it hurting Maisie or Colt. So, if there was a way for you to be their legal father, giving them all the same protections that being my husband would…without me being your wife, would you want that?”
“Not marrying you?” His brows drew inward.
“Removing me, and my damage, from the equation,” I clarified before dropping my volume to a whisper only Beckett could hear. “As someone wise once told me, it’s not about not wanting you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Would you want the kids if I wasn’t part of the deal?”
“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.
“Forever?”
“Always.”
That warmth in my stomach spread, combining with the love that burned so brightly in my chest. I half expected to light up like a Care Bear.
I forced my eyes away from Beckett’s to where Mark sat, his gaze darting between us, his mind already at work.
“Can he adopt them? Without marrying me?”
Beckett drew in a sharp breath.
“Is that something you’d be willing to do?” Mark asked Beckett.
“Yes.” Again, the answer came instantly.
“Have you thought about what that would really mean?” Mark asked me.
“Yes. I know it puts the kids at some risk.”
I felt Beckett tense next to me, like a crackle of energy in the air.
“It could,” Mark agreed. “It would be like having another parent—there would be support to consider, visitation, custody rights, both physical and decision-making. It’s basically sharing your kids with him. But it protects them more, too. The moment he adopts them, they’ll be covered by his insurance no matter the status of your…relationship. The military will always see them as his.”
“Even if he’s out?”
Beckett’s jaw tensed. “Yep. You could even sue me for support if you wanted.”
“I would never sue you for support.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did.”
“Right, but you’re still giving up a portion of your rights, Ella.”
My hackles bristled. The twins had always been mine, and only mine.
“Can we lessen the risk?”
He leaned back, continuing his appraisal of us both. “Sure. You’d just have to draw up a custody agreement to be signed immediately after. You could say that you have sole physical custody, he has zero rights to visitation, but you should share decision-making, or it looks pretty darn fraudulent. You wouldn’t even have to file it unless there’s an issue. Just in case someone comes looking.”
“Is it fraud?” I needed to know. I’d probably still go through with it—Maisie’s life was worth some jail time—but I had to know. “I mean, the marriage would seem way more fraudulent to me. If neither of us want to marry the other, and we’re living in separate houses with separate names, then that’s more fraud than Beckett wanting to be there for the kids, right?”
“Do you want to parent the kids?” Mark looked straight at Beckett.
“Yes,” he answered without a second thought. “I love them. Nothing would make me happier than to protect them like this, to give them whatever I can.”
“You’re going to have to do a little better than that with Judge Iverson. He’s a softy for Ella, always has been, but you’re not a local. He’s not going to trust you just because you showed up for some soccer practices.”
Beckett took a deep breath and toyed with his glass. “I didn’t have a father growing up. A lot of guys who hit first, or just generally ignored me, but no one I considered a dad. When Colt and I were walking back across the field after a soccer game, he asked if that was what having a dad felt like, and I couldn’t tell him yes, because I didn’t know—and he didn’t know, either. I want Colt and Maisie to know what it feels like to have a dad—in whatever capacity Ella would let me be there for them. I just want to be the guy they can depend on.”