Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)

Erik looked at Laire over their daughter’s head, mouthing the words, Can I tell her?

Tears sprang into Laire’s eyes as she nodded.

“Hey, Ava Grace,” said Erik. “I gotta ask you somethin’, darlin’.”

“What?”

“Well, I thought I heard you sayin’ somethin’ about me maybe bein’ your daddy just now while I was wakin’ up.”

“I thought you were sleepin’.”

“Nope.” Erik put his hands under her shoulders and transferred her to his lap, facing him. “What if the dark-haired prince got all mixed up in the sea witch’s evil plan for a few years? What if it took him a while to escape, to find you and your mama?”

Laire shifted her eyes from Erik’s face to Ava Grace’s, watching as she absorbed this new chapter of the story.

With wide eyes, Ava Grace looked up at her father. “Is that what happened to you?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

To Laire’s surprise, huge tears swelled in her daughter’s eyes as she stared up at her father. “But that would mean . . . that would mean you’re my real daddy.”

“That’s right. That’s exactly who I am, baby,” he said, trying to smile, though Laire could see him fighting back tears. “Your real daddy. And now that I’ve found you and your mama, I’m never goin’ away again.”

Ava Grace launched herself into his arms with a sob, and Erik gripped her close as she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“You’re my real daddy?” she asked again as she clung to him, as though it was too amazing to be true.

“I sure am,” said Erik, releasing Ava Grace on one side to pull Laire into their embrace. She was a mess at this point, tears streaming down her face as Erik and Ava Grace sorted out their place in each other’s life. Laire laid her head on Erik’s shoulder, leaning into him as he held his girls close.

“Then I’m gonna call you Daddy instead of Oscar,” said Ava Grace, her small arms looped tightly around his neck. “Is that okay?”

“Better’n okay,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion as he tightened his arms around his family. “That’d be perfect, baby.”





Chapter 24


Since the morning, Ava Grace had probably called Erik Daddy about a hundred times, even managing to insert it three times into a single sentence. The truth? He didn’t think he’d ever get weary of hearing her little voice say it.

Tucking her into bed that night, they rehashed the fun day they’d had together: running on the beach, eating hot dogs at a café in Hatteras, visiting Laire and Ava Grace’s new condo, checking out her new elementary school, and dining on grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, courtesy of Kelsey.

With Laire on one side of her and Erik on the other, they read a bedtime story together, watching as their daughter drifted off to sleep. They kissed her good night, then tiptoed to Erik’s room, leaving the door to Ava Grace’s room cracked open just enough to hear her call out if she needed them.

Holding Laire’s hand, and with an alacrity that should have surprised him but didn’t, he switched gears entirely as he stepped into his dimly lit, quiet room.

As much as he’d loved every minute he’d spent with Laire and Ava Grace today as a family, his body now had a separate agenda altogether. He’d waited a long, long time to be alone with his woman again, and with no more lies and secrets between them, he was finished waiting.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

And he intended to have her in as many ways as she’d let him before morning.

He sat down on the bed, holding her hand, looking up at Laire, who stood before him. She wore a slight smile on her face as she raised her free hand. It was fisted, but as she opened her fingers one by one he recognized the necklace he’d bought her so long ago at the Elizabethan Gardens.

“You kept it,” he said, taking it from her hand and staring at the intricate design of overlapping hearts.

“I was tempted to throw it in the fireplace many times, but . . . I couldn’t.” Her eyes were dark and languid as she dropped his hand, lifted her hair off the back of her neck and turned around. “Put it on me?”

His heart sped up at the sight of her swanlike neck bared to him, at the quick mental image of making love to her while she wore nothing except this necklace. Standing up on suddenly shaky knees, he leaned his arms over her shoulders, each half of the clasp between his fingers, and fastened the necklace around her throat.

Before she could let her hair fall back, he bent his head quickly and pressed his lips to her soft, warm skin, closing his eyes as she gasped quietly. She leaned her head to the side, giving him better access, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest and inhaling the sweet womanly smell of her.

“I missed you,” he murmured, sliding his lips along her throat, behind her ear, stopping to kiss and nibble, and reveling in the feeling of Laire back in his arms.