Her All Along

On the other hand, teaching freshmen… Fucking hell, I remembered those days, and not fondly. They still had the tendency to act like kindergartners at that age.

I’d talk to Phil soon. He was itching to have me back at Ponderosa, and I couldn’t fuck with his system too much. I was already going to request some changes in order for me to take on a second job at Camas High. I’d made up my mind and had been in contact with their principal. There was a position open for two AP classes, and with how poorly funded they were, they’d take whatever they could get. In other words, if I could get Phil on board, I had room to be flexible and make sure the classes didn’t conflict.

Elise slipped inside once the last student had left, and she closed the door before scurrying toward me. “Hi!”

“Hi, baby. This is a surprise. Everything okay?” I tugged her between my legs and kissed her chastely.

“Better than,” she countered, practically vibrating. “I didn’t wanna email or call, so I borrowed Ry’s truck as soon as I got out of class.”

“Why would you email me?” I grinned, confused.

She untied the belt around her snug little trench coat, bringing forth memories of the night she’d first shown it to me. Black, thin, “perfect for spring weather,” she’d said. And she’d only been wearing a black bra and a matching thong underneath.

I’d almost proposed to her right then and there.

Unfortunately, she wore clothes underneath now.

She retrieved a printout from her inner pocket and handed it to me. “I had to show you. Don’t tell me this isn’t perfect. It just went on the market today.”

On the market…

I flipped open the page and saw a grid of six black-and-white photos of a house.

Three-bedroom, two-and-a-half baths, garage that fit two cars, a small studio above said garage… Where was the catch? The listing price was set at $60,000 less than what I got for my old house at the marina, but that didn’t say much. It was likely to go for higher in the end, I was fairly certain.

Outskirts of Downtown, still a great neighborhood. There was a private day care nearby, I remembered. Same Victorian style as most houses in our area.

“It needs a new kitchen, and the backyard doesn’t look great,” Elise said.

“Doable.” I flipped the page to see if there was anything on the back, but it was blank. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty if it’ll save us some money. And Darius owes me a favor from when I helped him with the restaurant.”

I squinted at one of the photos. It was a little grainy, though I could still estimate the size of the backyard.

“It does look great,” I admitted. “I’ll be able to have my own office until we need the third bedroom.” Then perhaps I could turn the spot above the garage into an office.

Elise stepped closer and wrapped her arms around my middle. “Because you’re gonna knock me up one day?”

I grinned and kissed her softly. “That’s exactly why.” I nipped at her bottom lip and earned myself a faint blush that bled across her cheeks. “Have you thought more on my suggestion about Grace, by the way?”

Speaking of blushes. Elise’s emotional, stammering, sweet response to when I’d confessed that I wanted us to discuss Grace’s name for Pipsqueak would forever be one of my favorite memories. I’d suggested that we didn’t necessarily try to correct Grace when she called Elise “Lee-Lee,” but that I would—along with the rest of the family—begin to refer to Elise as her mother.

“You know I want nothing more,” she murmured, kissing my neck. Presumably as a way to hide her face.

“But…?”

“No buts!” She peered down between us and fidgeted with my hand. “I’ve loved Grace since before she was born. My only fear is, once I take that spot in her life, I’m-I’m not going to be able to give it back.”

I furrowed my brow and tried to make eye contact, but she wasn’t ready. “Why on earth would you have to give it back, sweetheart? I know you’ve loved her from the moment you knew about her. You’ve also already filled those shoes in her life, and the way I see it, the single reason we’ve waited to make things official is because you have to put school first.”

She nodded slowly, processing what I’d said. “You’re right. And I know her biological mother isn’t coming back.” Definitely not. Last I heard from Keira, last year, Taylor had moved to London to study fashion design. Besides, she had no legal claim. “But what if she did?”

For this, I had to see her face properly. I raised her chin gently and wasn’t surprised to see those stunning green eyes brimming with vulnerability. It was what already made her the best possible mother to Grace.