Hillary was easy. He was desperate to talk to her—to explain everything and to introduce her to Laire and Ava Grace. He imagined Hillary and Laire becoming good friends and Hillary being an amazing aunt to her niece. He couldn’t wait to tell her everything.
The revelation about Ava Grace’s parentage had finally sunk into his consciousness, and he accepted it without a shred of doubt: he had a daughter, and, yes, he had a lot to learn, but he was going to be the best damn father the earth had ever known. There would be time to make up for, and time to celebrate, and the next time he and Laire had a child together, he fully intended to be there from the very beginning.
Leaning forward a little, he pressed his lips to Laire’s forehead again, resting them against her soft skin as she slept.
As soon as possible, he intended to have a ring on her finger and a date to meet her at the altar. It was as though he’d awakened, over the past couple of days, from a years-long nightmare, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Laire was the key to his happiness. He had missed out on enough time with her—he wanted her to be his wife, and he wanted it now. She was the missing piece of his heart, the joy of his soul, the very lifeblood of his being, and the mother of his daughter. As soon as she said yes, he would bind his life to hers forever and thank God for the gift of her love every day of his life.
Taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
As for his mother.
As for Ursula “Fancy” Rexford.
He would confront her only to disown her.
He would make her take responsibility for what she willfully stole from him.
And then he would wash his hands of her forever.
Drawing his sweetheart as close to him as possible, he pulled the comforter over them both. Then, seeking and matching the rhythm of her beating heart with his own, he closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.
***
“A sleepover, huh? ’Cause that’s what it’s called when you sleep over with someone else. And Mama and Oscar are still sleepin’ so this is definitely a sleepover.”
There was a pause in Ava Grace’s monologue as Laire’s eyes fluttered open to find Erik’s room flooded with sunlight, his arms still tightly around her.
“No, Mr. Mopples. That’s a very naughty suggestion. We’re not goin’ to wake them up until—Mama! You’re awake!”
Laire blinked as she rolled onto her back. She was still in her clothes. Oh, Lord, she thought, rolling her eyes internally. Our first night together with no one to judge or interrupt or interfere, and we wasted it by falling asleep.
Ava Grace knelt on the bed, holding Mr. Mopples in her lap.
“Mornin’, baby,” Laire murmured through a yawn.
“Mama, you and Oscar had a sleepover.”
Reversing her previous thoughts and thanking God that they were both fully dressed, she smiled and nodded. “Yes, we did.”
“Why did you have a sleepover?”
Erik’s arm was thrown over Laire’s chest, but she moved it just enough to sit up.
“Oh. Well . . .” She and Erik hadn’t discussed when they’d tell Ava Grace that he was her father, but she hoped that they would agree to tell her today. Laire was sick and tired of secrets. She wanted Ava Grace to know that she had a father who loved her, who had missed her, and who intended to stick around. “We had some things to talk about. And I guess we fell asleep.”
“What things?”
“Well,” she said, smiling gently at her daughter, “I knew Oscar, um, Erik, a long time ago . . . before I had you. He was really important to me.”
“Like your best friend?”
“Yeah. Even more than that.”
“Do you like him a lot, Mama?”
“I do, baby. In fact, I love him a lot.”
“As much as you love me?”
“Mm-hm,” answered Laire, grinning at her daughter. “But in a different way.”
“Like a mommy loves a daddy?” whispered Ava Grace, like her words were sacred.
“Would that be okay?” asked Laire.
Ava Grace looked at Erik, resting her eyes on his face. “I have the same eyes as he does, Mama.”
Laire’s chest constricted, but she kept her voice even. “Yes, baby. You do.”
Under the covers, Erik’s fingers found hers, threading them together and holding on tight. He wasn’t sleeping anymore; he was listening.
“If you love him like a mommy loves a daddy . . .” Ava Grace pressed her lips together, still staring at Erik.
“What, honey?”
“He’s dark-haired like a prince. Maybe he could be my daddy.”
She heard his breath catch as his fingers squeezed the life from her hand.
“Would you like that?”
Ava Grace nodded.
She knew he was unable to bear not knowing her answer when he opened his eyes, pretending to wake up. “Mornin’, girls.”
“Mornin’,” they answered in unison.
Erik rubbed his eyes and yawned, sitting up against the back of the bed beside Laire, then scooting away from her a touch to make room between them.
“Want to get in with us?” he asked his daughter.
Ava Grace’s face broke into a huge smile, and she nodded happily, crawling up the bed and snuggling in between them.