The Nanny Clause Pt. 03

Chapter 19

Tuesday morning, day too of being classroom parent, I'm walking toward the school, holding Ava's hand when my phone rings. I want to ignore it completely, but I know Nick is dealing with a lot of drama this week without me around. The library expansion was supposed to have been done and dusted but the engineer lead keeps harassing us. None of the discrepancies have been of my doing, rather one of the councilmen adjusted things on the document to ensure the zoning board would approve of the change from residential to business. Only, that leaves me in a bind because now I have to find some way to reconcile the old plans--done by me and approved by library staff--with the new ones passed by the zoning board.

It's a logistical nightmare and I don't have patience for it, so I'm glad Nick is overseeing things for now. It's confirmed now that a trip will happen and I have to be the one to finalize everything, but Nick may still call me with questions. So I pull my phone out, juggling the coffee I brought for Grace to the other hand, to make sure it's not him, only when I see the call is from another unhappy client, I decide I have to take it, if only to stave off the worst of the hemorrhaging.

"Yeah, Mr. Hinton, what can I do for you?" The project he's calling about can wait; we still have months, but he's a perfectionist and quite persnickety.

"Fletcher, now I've told you a hundred times already, I need to have weekly updates. You were supposed to check in yesterday. I would like you to come in and speak with me today to show me the revised sketches."

I look down at Ava, who walks beside me, and smile. She is singing some sort of nursery rhyme I've never heard but she's happy. Having this one week each year where I ditch work and spend my entire day all day long with her couldn't have come at a better time. On the heels of that nightmare of a work trip where we got no time at all, this is crucial for me to be here.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hinton, I can't make it in this week. I've scheduled a week of vacation to be with my daughter. I'll have Nick forward the updated blueprints, and you will see we are working hard. But you'll also have to keep in mind that since I'm not working this week, there will be no update for you on Monday again. I apologize if this causes an inconvenience, but it's a necessary evil."

In keeping with professionalism I add, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Well.... phf...." He scoffs and grunts, but I know the only way to handle men like him is to be firm. Ava comes first, and if I run off at every whim of every controlling customer, she'll fall through the cracks.

"Alright, then, you'll hear from me on Monday. Have a great week, Mr. Hinton." I hang up and walk through the door of the school, still tugging Ava along at my side. It's a chilly morning; we're both bundled up. So when I walk into the classroom and see Grace wearing a sleeveless blouse and slacks, I am surprised. She looks incredible, long chestnut hair cascading across her shoulders. So incredible it distracts me from reminding Ava to take her hat off and I have to chase her across the room to take it from her. Grace notices me and wiggles her fingers at Ava. She does not greet me, which is a little disappointing but her focus is the kids, as should be mine.

Hovering near the back of the room I watch as Grace smiles and welcomes each student. She is so compassionate with each one, making sure to ask them things about themselves, like how their evening went, if they slept well. It's the sort of thing that teachers are remembered for. I have a few favorite teachers from my days in school all the way through college, and if Grace had been one of them, she'd have been the most memorable, mainly because she really loves these kids a lot. They can tell it too.

Each one of them has a story to tell or some witty comment about their home life. Jacob, the boy with the zipper issue yesterday, brough Ava a rock. It has smudges of black and blue paint on it, but he's proud that he painted a rock with his mother and wanted to give it to her since she helped him with his coat. I stay aloof, giving her all the credit. When most of the children are in their seats or at least away from the door, she looks up at me and nods.

"You're really good with them," I call out over the chatter and she moves closer to me.

"What's that? I didn't catch what you said." I've never noticed how enchanting her eyes are, how when they turn on me I'm so captivated I want to share my deepest secrets with her.

"I said," I tell her, holding out the coffee, "you're really good with them." She looks down at the paper cup with its thick cardboard heat band and cocks her head.

"What's this?" She takes it gingerly and I smile.

"I got you a hazelnut coffee with cream and sugar..." I feel heat in my cheeks. "It's the way you like it, right?"

Grace nods slowly as she sips the coffee, now probably cooled to the perfect temperature. I got it across town and then had to struggle with Ava's car seat for a few moments before I got her buckled in.

"It's perfect." She looks confused. "How did you know this is how I like it?"

One of the kids runs past us and she calls out for him to calm down. I know the bell will ring in a few minutes, so I'm taking this opportunity to invest in Grace while I can. I know she will probably avoid me all day again, especially when the students head out. Maybe this feels safe for her; she can interact with the kids all around us and not feel threatened by me. I don't want her to feel threatened at all, but given how she reacted after the trip, I know she's reluctant to move forward with a relationship. Or maybe I've not just been forthright about how I feel so she has no clue.

"I spent every morning with you for three weeks."

"Hardly," she scoffs, bristling a little. Her shoulders square and she turns to the classroom.

"Okay, so we bickered a lot, and I'm not a morning person. It doesn't mean I didn't learn how you like your coffee." I nod at the cup and she looks down at it. Then she sips it, as if she needs to give herself time to think.

"It's very good, thank you. It was very thoughtful of you to bring me coffee today. I actually spilled mine in the car, so it's perfect." An awkward silence falls over us despite the loud laughter and talk of the children. I'm not sure what to say so I hold my tongue until something sparks in my mind.

"I enjoyed having someone to have coffee with again. It's been so long since I've had that. Every morning alone at five a. m. waiting for the alarm to go off and me to wake Ava up. Those might not have been great mornings at the B&B but I enjoyed them."

My comment makes her look up at me.

"You know, I sort of liked having that too." She looks pensive now, almost in pain or emotional upset. "I don't like being alone in the morning, so being with a grumpy old man was better than silence." She smiles at her own jibe at me and I chuckle, but then her expression sours. "Excuse me," she blurts out just as the bell rings. Her heels click on the floor as she walks away, headed for the head of the classroom to do roll call and lunch survey, and I find a chair against the back wall and watch her.

That interaction may not have seemed like much to any other man who is pursuing a woman, but to me it was a breakthrough. We shared a fond memory and even though she had some odd reaction and walked away, I know she felt that common ground. We both desire something and we found it in each other.

Now, as long as I can keep this up all week, by Friday hopefully she will have changed her mind and at least go on that trip with me. Maybe then I can really show her who I am and what there is to love about me, because I see her clearly. She's intelligent, kind and creative. Her heart is so big, and she has so much to give this world. Maybe I'm not even good enough for her, but she makes me want to be a better man, to be better to deserve her.

And I'll damn well try, right up to the point she either falls in love or finally pushes me away. Because anything that amazing is worth the effort.

Chapter 20

Mira and I have had this dinner planned for several days now, well before I took the job at Peabody spur of the moment. I feel so sick to my stomach but I can't cancel, so I accept the Chinese delivery and have the table set when she rocks up. She's fifteen minutes late as usual, so I take the time to do some extra grading while I wait. By the time she arrives the food is a bit cold, but I don't mind at all. Having my best friend for dinner is something I've needed all week.

We exchange pleasantries and dig into our food. Mira furrows her brow and asks, "So what's this I hear about you subbing at Peabody? How's that going?"

I beam and sink back in my seat. "It's incredible," I say. "The kids have so much to offer - they're bright and engaging, always making me laugh with their wit and stories."

Mira nods in agreement and then takes a sip of her tea. "So, are you going to keep subbing?"

I smile and take a deep breath, my mind wandering to the offer Fletcher made earlier in the week--an invitation to go on a trip to Cape May again. I was hesitant before, but now I'm starting to think that maybe it would be nice to get away for a few days and it might set the scene for me to be able to open up and tell him about the baby. Or it could just be another wasted week of my life where he proves yet again that he's not my type.

"I don't know," I reply honestly. "It's a lot of work, but it's also really rewarding. And with Fletcher offering me this chance to go on a trip--"

"Wait, what?" Mira smiles knowingly and waits for me to continue.

"So Fletcher is the classroom parent this week. Peabody does this thing where they ask parents to volunteer for at least one full week of the school year and help their child's teacher with classroom tasks." A smile sneaks onto my face as I talk about him. Monday was a fucking whirlwind--sneaking away for illicit sex--but the rest of the week has been pretty normal. Other than how amazing he is.

"He does this thing with the kids when it's story time. He reads the books and uses all these creative voices and accents to bring the characters to life. It's so cute, you should see it. The kids love it--they laugh and clap and get so excited to hear him read. He really has a special way with them." I pause for a moment as my heart swells with emotion. "It's so sweet, Mira... I can't even put into words how wonderful it is."

Mira looks at me with a knowing smile. "It sounds like you have more than just appreciation for him," she says softly. I look away, my cheeks blushing as I try to figure out how to respond.

I take a deep breath and slowly release it, trying to organize my thoughts before speaking. "He's been so kind and helpful this week," I start slowly. "He's gone above and beyond what is expected of him as the classroom parent." If only I could tell her just how far he's gone. That makes me blush, so I continue to avoid her seeing me squirm in my attraction to him. "There was a child whose parents forgot his lunch money. Fletcher bought the kid lunch Tuesday. Then on Wednesday one of the boys fell and scraped his knee and Fletcher--"

Mira interrupts me with a smirk. "Are you going to keep telling me all the wonderful things he's done or are you just going to admit that you're falling in love with him?"

My mouth drops open in surprise and I can feel my cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. I try to play it off, but I'm sure she can see right through me. "I'm not falling in love," I say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "I'm just appreciative for all his help."

Mira shakes her head and laughs softly. "Oh, come on now," she teases. "It's okay to admit it--you've been smitten since day one."

"I know," I whisper. I can't deny it any longer. I look away and find myself beginning to cry, although I'm not sure why. Is it because he's been so kind and caring? Or is it because I'm scared of having my heart broken yet again? Whatever the reason, I try to hide my emotions. And why am I so damn emotional anyway? This isn't like me.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant or something?" she says jokingly, and I stiffen. She's the one who bought the test, and now she's joking as if she didn't already know. "Wait... You took the test?"

I look up at her and bite my lip, furrowing my forehead. My shoulders droop but my heart soars. I'm going to be a mother, something I really want. Sure, it's earlier and not exactly the conventional way, but I want this more than anything.

"I cry all the time. I'm nauseous and exhausted. I feel like my hormones are all over the place," I say, tears coming to my eyes. "I'm overwhelmed, Mira. I don't know what to do."

Mira stands up and gives me a hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly and providing the comfort I need. She holds me for a few moments before pulling away and looking at me with love in her eyes. "I didn't mean to joke about it." She scrunches her nose and wipes my face. "Did you tell him? Is that why he asked you to go away with him?"

"God no!" I shake my head and walk away. "I have no clue how to tell him. I was a fricken' virgin going into that. He has all this experience." I wave my arm wildly as I walk around the kitchen table and collect empty food containers. I'm not even done eating but the nervous energy has me going now, and there's no stopping me. "Then the condom broke and what the hell was I supposed to do? I washed myself but--"

"Woah! Slow down." Mira steps in front of me and takes the containers out of my hands, placing them on the counter. She takes my hand into hers and looks at me with an understanding gaze. "You have to tell him," she says softly. The look in her eye is unnerving. I'm smart enough and mature enough to know this, but she doesn't understand the situation.

"Listen, I know it's hard," she continues. "And I'm sure he'll be shocked and upset at first. But it doesn't mean he won't love you or the baby. You just have to take the risk and tell him. It may not be easy but it's the right thing to do." She pauses for a moment, then squeezes my hand gently. "I know you can do this," she says with a smile.

I take a deep breath and let out a long sigh as Mira's words sink in. I know she's right--I need to tell Fletcher about the baby sooner rather than later, no matter how scared I am of his reaction. After all, this is his child too, and he deserves to know about it.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" I ask her. "I need to pee." I don't really need to pee but it's an excuse to take five minutes and breathe.

Mira nods and I head to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I sink into the floor and lean my back against the cold bathtub, trying to process everything that's happening. I'm pregnant--me! A single woman who was just trying to find her place in life. How did this happen?

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. My mind is spinning with all kinds of scenarios and possibilities--what if Fletcher doesn't want anything to do with us? What if he's so mad he never speaks to me again? What if I have to raise this baby on my own?

My stomach knots and my palms start to sweat. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few more deep breaths, trying to push the fear away. But it's no use--I can't help but worry about what will happen if Fletcher and I aren't compatible. What if he's a total jerk like I fear?

I take a few more moments to compose myself before standing up and heading back to the kitchen. I know there's no point in worrying about the future--all I can do is take it one step at a time and hope for the best. I just have to trust that Fletcher will be understanding when I tell him, and that he'll love our baby as much as I already do.

Chapter 21

I've been sitting in the back of this classroom watching Grace excel at teaching all week. Her passion for helping these kids and the way she interacts with them has me smitten. Her eyes light up as she talks about addition and subtraction like it's the most fascinating of all subjects to learn. It makes me chuckle as she draws barn animals on the chalkboard in groupings then attempts to have the children count them up.

She introduces a game called "Number Sense." She explains that the game is an interactive way to help them understand their numbers. As she talks, I can see the children's eyes light up in excitement and hers too. She is so into this and I am so into her. Her smile, her body, her laugh. I love it all.

She hands out cards with different numbers on them, and tells the kids to use their number sense to figure out how many animals are in each group. The kids get into it right away, counting up the animals and calling out their answers. Grace cheers them on as they get the correct answers, and encourages those who don't quite get it yet to keep trying.

Next, she moves onto addition and subtraction using a large number chart she has written on chalkboard. She calls up volunteers from each row of desks to come up and point at two numbers that will be added or subtracted together. With each pair of numbers chosen, the class works together to solve it, counting down from one side of the chart to the other until they get the answer.

Grace is patient and encouraging as she guides them through each problem, helping them understand what numbers can be added together and subtracted from one another. She also encourages them to use their own number sense to figure out the answers without relying on the chart.

My heart melts as I watch her work with the children, teaching them and helping them understand numbers in a way that is fun and interactive. She has a genuine passion for what she does, and it radiates from her. As I sit here watching her, I can't help but feel more in love than ever before. All I want is to be able to hold her in my arms and tell her how much she means to me. To tell her how badly I need her to be mine. I can't walk away from this despite how hesitant she seems.

The morning goes by in a blur of activity. Grace has the class do some math puzzles, then moves on to English. The kids are engaged and eager to learn, and Grace is there every step of the way to help them understand. When it's time for lunch, she tells them that they did a great job and she can't wait to see what else they can learn tomorrow. She sends them off with a smile and a wave goodbye as they head out the door toward the cafeteria.

I want to catch her and get a chance to talk with her, but she follows along behind them closely. She's been avoiding me all week, keeping every topic of conversation fixed on students and school. She's avoided my questions about Cape May, the potential trip, my nanny needs or anything personal for that matter.

As the students and teachers walk down the hallway, I follow at a distance. I'm ready to ask her to have lunch with me, but she's already talking with some of the other teachers. I take a few steps after her, watching as they chat about the day and how the kids are doing. I can tell that she feels comfortable around them, and that they appreciate her enthusiasm for teaching.

I feel bad for interrupting, but this is my last shot. After today, I may not ever speak with her again. So I tap her on the shoulder. "Uh, Ms. Reynolds, I was wondering if I could have a word with you about Ava."

Grace hesitates for a moment before answering. She looks at me with a mix of confusion and worry in her eyes. I can tell that she's not sure what to make of this strange request from a parent. But still, being the good teacher that she is, she eventually nods her head in agreement.

She nods and excuses herself from the other teachers, and we step away into an empty classroom down the hall where we can talk privately. Once inside, I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts. I'm not sure how to begin, so I just start by telling Grace about Ava's behavior at home and school. I explain how she's been struggling academically and having difficulty focusing on tasks for longer than a few minutes at a time.

"It all started after our trip." I hope she understands my meaning. Ava has been a different little girl this week with Grace back in her life, even if it is only as her teacher.

Grace looks away and shifts uncomfortably. She seems to be trying to process what I'm saying, but it's clear that she's feeling awkward and frustrated. "Ava isn't having issues at home because she misses me, Fletcher. How could she miss me? She doesn't even know me."

"Children form bonds very quickly, Grace. You know that."

Grace takes a deep breath and shakes her head. She's trying to hide the tears that are welling up in her eyes. I can tell she wants to say something but is holding back, so I take her hand and look into her eyes. She pulls away and I understand. There are other teachers around. She probably doesn't want to give the wrong impression.

"I know you're hesitant about this, Grace, but I was wondering if you would consider the trip next week to Cape May with us? Ava could really use your help and guidance right now."

She looks at me with a mix of emotions on her face. She's obviously conflicted about accepting my offer. I can tell she doesn't want to go. "I'm sorry, Fletcher," she says firmly, "but I don't think it's a good idea for me to go on this trip with you and Ava." She shakes her head and takes a step back. "It wouldn't be appropriate."

"I'll double... triple your pay for whatever job you have lined up next week." My words stop her and I watch her shoulders droop.

"I just don't know," she says softly. I can tell that she's trying to come up with a reason why this wouldn't work, but I'm determined to make her see the potential in this trip.

"Grace, please," I plead. "This could be a wonderful opportunity for us both. We'd get to spend more time together and Ava would benefit from having you around."

I take a step closer and look into her eyes, hoping that she will see the love and admiration that I have for her in my gaze. She looks away and takes a deep breath before finally nodding her head in agreement.

"Okay," she says quietly. "I'll go." My heart leaps with joy and I can't help but smile. "But there is something I need to tell you."

Now she looks terrified. I can see the fear in her eyes, as if she's worried that I might not like what she has to say. She takes a deep breath and begins to explain.

"Fletcher, before we go on this trip, there's something you need to know about me." She pauses for a moment and looks away before continuing. "I'm--"

"Oh, Ms. Reynolds!" Mr. Mathers, elementary principal and current interruption, calls on her. "There you are!" Grace jumps in surprise and takes a step back, her face pale.

"I was looking for you," Mr. Mathers says as he strides into the room. "The teachers are gathering in the staff room for an impromptu meeting about upcoming projects."

Grace looks at me pleadingly before turning to Mr. Mathers with a forced smile. "Of course, I'll be right there."

Mr. Mathers nods and turns to leave the room without another word. Grace sighs with relief and then turns to me apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Fletcher," she says softly, "but it looks like our conversation will have to wait." She gives me a sad smile before hurrying out of the room after Mr. Mathers.

I stand in the empty room, wondering what Grace was about to tell me. What could be so important that she had to stop before saying it? I sigh and shake my head, feeling a little frustrated. Whatever she had to say will have to wait until the next time we're together.

But for now, I can't help but think about our upcoming trip to Cape May and all the possibilities that await us. I imagine us walking along the beach, hand in hand, with Ava chasing after seagulls. We could explore the town together, eating ice cream and buying souvenirs from the local shops. At night we could watch the sunset over the ocean while talking about our dreams and plans for the future.

Grace thinks this is just a trip to nanny a child, but she is in for the ride of her life this time. I'm not working long hours and ignoring her. I intend to pour every ounce of effort I have into making her understand how special and incredible I think she is.

I'm going to show her how much I love her and our daughter. I'm going to make sure she knows that with me, she will always have a place where she is safe and loved. This trip could mean so much more than just a fun vacation--it could be the start of something beautiful between us.

Chapter 22

"No, Grace, that's ridiculous. He has enough money to hire fourteen nannies. He doesn't need you to go along."

Nick is furious, glaring at me while I shove things into a suitcase again. This trip will only be a week long, but it happens to fall over Memorial Day weekend when we had plans. It's not even about the money either--I need to be alone with Fletcher in a way that forces me to be vulnerable with him. Mira will literally call the bastard and tell him I'm carrying his unborn child if I don't.

"You don't understand, Nick." I shuffle back and forth from my laundry room to my couch as I talk, folding clothes and stuffing them in the open suitcase. I'm shocked Nick hasn't tried taking things out just to piss me off. He's in such a nasty mood today and I have no patience for the way he is trying to boss me around.

"We go to the Memorial Day festival every year. It's literally our tradition... You're going to skip that for a job?"

"It's not just a job, Nick." I turn my back on him and stomp off to the laundry room again. I'm packing way too many outfits. There isn't any way I'll need them or even be able to wear them all, but I'm nervous. And apparently overpacking is something I do when I'm nervous.

I lean into the dryer, pull out all the clothes, and drop them into a basket. My plane leaves first thing in the morning, which happens to be the same time I am supposed to be meeting Nick to have breakfast and start our weekend of festivities. I know it means a lot to him, because we started this tradition when we first moved here to Chicago. I hate letting him down, but I know this is something I have to do.

Lingering in the laundry room a little longer than necessary, I start to regret telling Fletcher I would go with him. Nick is right; he could hire any nanny he wants, but he chose me. It's not just a job. Fletcher is pursuing me and goddammit I want him to--kind of. But my uncertainty over his true nature needles at my conscience and I'm left in full tilt constantly.

"You okay?" Nick asks, peeking his head into the room. I look up at him and roll my eyes. Of course he would follow me to the laundry room right when I need a minute. It's not like my pregnancy hormones aren't constantly badgering me too. I feel tears welling up from some god-awful place and pick up the basket, pushing past him to walk back to the living room.

"It's not just a job, okay, Nick?" The basket spills as I drop it to the floor and I crouch to pick things up, more frustration mounting until I can't hold the tears back at all.

"Woah, woah, woah... What's wrong?" He stoops and grabs my hand so I can't keep picking up laundry. I know he means well but I can't do this emotionally.

"I would like to be alone now. Can you please go home?" I snatch my wrist away from him and stand, swiping at my eyes, but he stands facing me, toe-to-toe. He's not going anywhere now that I'm crying because he's my big brother and he has this macho sense of duty to me which at times I love. Just not right now.

"Grace, tell me what's wrong." He forces me to look at him and I can't turn away.

"I'm..."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant. Okay? It's Fletcher's baby. He doesn't know." I watch the look on Nick's face shift from concern to shock and then morph into outrage. His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches, as if he's trying to contain himself. I can tell he wants to lash out but he doesn't. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"He did this to you? Did he pressure you?" He is so wrong, and why would he think that about Fletcher? It sends a jolt of panic through my chest.

I shake my head. "It was a mistake, okay? It just happened." I try to explain, but the words feel hollow in the face of Nick's anger. He looks away, his jaw still clenched tight.

"I can't believe he would do this to you. I'm going to go find him and have a few words with him," he growls, turning towards the door.

I reach out to grab his arm, desperate to stop him from confronting Fletcher. "No, Nick! You can't do that!" I plead. "Please, he doesn't know yet. Please..." I'm whimpering and clinging to his arm, desperately trying to get him to calm down. He practically drags me to the doorway but I manage to stand in the way. "Nick, stop and listen to me."

He stops and looks me in the eye, finally understanding that I'm not just another helpless girl. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders, finally allowing me to explain.

"It was mutual," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"What do you mean? You told me you were a virgin. How does that just happen?" His nostrils flare but he backs up a step. "Gracie, you're my little sister. If he hurt you I'll--"

"He didn't," I snap, shocking him. "Okay, I kissed him and it just fucking happened." I devolve into more tears, ashamed to tell my brother the truth. It was honestly none of his business but he had to understand Fletcher didn't do anything wrong.

"Butwhy didn't you tell me?" He asks, his anger dissipating into confusion.

"I was scared," I admit, my voice shaking as I wipe away my tears. "I didn't know how you'd react and I just wanted to handle it on my own."

Nick sighs and wraps his arms around me. "You must be so scared." He holds me tight and I let myself cry, relieved that he isn't judging me. He comforts me with his warm embrace and whispers words of assurance in my ear.

Finally, I take a deep breath and pull away. "Let's sit," I suggest, sniffling one last time. It's by far not the last time I'll cry, but the pressure I've placed myself under is starting to lighten.

Nick nods and takes my hand, leading me to the living room. We sit on the couch, with my head resting against his shoulder. He strokes my hair softly and I feel a wave of calm wash over me. "So are you dating him? God, Gracie, he's so old for you. You could do so much better."

"Nick..." He isn't helping me at all. "No, we're not dating, not even close. I hadn't even spoken to him since the trip until Monday. He was the classroom parent for the class I taught this week." I sit up and wipe my eyes again, but his hand stays firmly locked in mine. This would be so much easier if I had a sister instead of a brother.

"So let me get this straight. You had some sort of fling while away, then haven't spoken to him until this week. Now you're going on another trip with him to tell him that on the first strip, you conceived his baby." He looks at me like I'm an idiot and all I can do is nod because he summed it up better than I ever could have.

"And you don't want to date him?" His eyes narrow at me as he cocks his head.

"God, one thing at a time, Nick. I don't know what I want." Planting my elbows on my knees, I cover my face and groan out loud.

"Wait... You have feelings for him?" Nick pulls away a bit and I sigh.

"I don't know. I don't know anything. One minute he's a nasty old grumpy man. The next minute he's the most amazing caring compassionate guy. I don't know if he's literally Mr. Right, or if he is my worst nightmare sneaking in to destroy my heart like a Trojan horse."

Nick shakes his head and looks away, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. He's caught between protecting me and understanding that I'm a grown woman capable of making my own decisions. It's a difficult spot for him to be in, but he's doing his best.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Nick takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. "I'm here." His hand on my shoulder comforts me as I wrestle in my mind. Fletcher's personality is a confusing mix of emotions and I find myself internally agonizing over it. On one hand, he can be incredibly kind and loving, but then on the other he can be harsh and demanding. I don't know if he's Jekyll or Hyde, or if I even want to know.

"Alright, well I understand why you have to go. I don't have to like it, and I think it is downright perverted of him to target someone so much younger than--"

"Nick!" I snap my head up and glare at him.

"I'm just saying," he says, backpedaling. His hands held in a defensive posture, he says, "I love you, Grace. I'm trying to watch out for you. If he so much as makes you cry, you call me and I'll be on the first flight out."

I shake my head at him. His overprotectiveness is nice now and again, and it's good to know he has my back. But it does nothing to lessen the anxiety I have over telling Fletcher.

"What if he thinks I'm just out for his money?" Holding back a whimper, I throw my head onto Nick's lap and he tucks my hair behind my ear.

"If I know Fletcher Davis, I know one thing. If he thinks that, he will offer to pay for an abortion."

My mind starts swirling with untapped energy. "And if he doesn't think I'm a money-grubbing gold digger?" The words leave a vile taste on my tongue.

"Well then he'll be ecstatic. All he talks about all day at work is Ava this and Ava that. He loves his kid. I imagine he'd be elated to have another." Nick sighs hard. "It's just fucked up that it's with my sister."

I sit up and punch his leg. "Help me pack. I need to get to bed soon."

We spend the next hour unpacking and repacking my bag while Nick makes jokes about how fat I'll get and what we'll name the baby. Humor is his way of diffusing the tension in a room, so I know he's processing something I've had more than a week to process on my own already. But it feels a bit more normal, and that puts me at ease.

Even if a nuclear bomb goes off with Fletcher, Nick is here for me, and so is Mira.

Now to spill the beans...

Chapter 23

Anxious anticipation makes my hands a bit nervous, fidgeting in my lap as I ride across town from the library to the B&B. We hashed out all the discrepancies and agreed on a new plan in less than eleven hours, and the rest of this trip is mine to do as I please, though I did get invited to the ground-breaking ceremony later this week.

Grace is there, watching Ava. I tried to stay awake to greet her, but her flight was delayed and by the time she rolled in I was fast asleep on the couch. Woke up to Helen's gentle shake at five a. m. She told me she helped Grace settle in, and when I went to her room she was sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to disturb her. I haven't spoken with her since she got in, and that makes my anticipation even stronger.

The driver navigates the town with ease, which makes me wish I was a local. This town has such a quaint charm I'm certain the only thing that would make it not feel like home is if a hurricane like Sandy smashed in and unsettled folks. I'm tempted to strike up some senseless small talk to quash my nerves, but I'm so stuck in my head thinking of Grace and how she'll respond to me, that before I can sling a sentence together we are parked and the driver is opening my door.

"Have a good night, Mr. Davis. Just let me know when you'll need me and I'll be here. I'm available and at your service all week." The middle-aged man is dressed in a suit and tie, looking more like a driver for a mobster hitman than me. I nod as I climb out of the car and look up at the sprawling front porch wrapped around the house like a cozy blanket. Grace is in there. The thought makes my pulse quicken.

It's later than I hoped, but there is still a smidge of daylight. Still, I know Ava is probably just falling asleep and perhaps Grace is settling in with a night cap or a mug of tea. "Thank you." I reach into my pocket and pull out a few crisp five-dollar bills to hand the driver. He accepts them with a smile and I carry my briefcase as I head to the porch.

When I get to the door, I stand staring at it for a moment. I've been waiting for this chance to be alone with Grace for two months, ever since that first sour interaction over coffee the Monday morning that kicked off the original trip. She's been sending mixed signals, though I'm very certain my signals have been nothing but clear. I want her. I want to know her, and be with her, and I want her to be in my life and Ava's. But she his hot and cold, and I don't know what's going on in her head.

I have to find out though, because whatever it is, I know I can clear it up if we just communicate well. So I turn the doorknob and walk through the door. I set my briefcase on the stand by the door and shut it, locking up, then head to the stairs. As I climb them, I hear soft voices coming from Ava's room. It's Helen and Grace whispering, which means they're trying not to wake Ava.

I push the door open slightly and smile at them, glancing at Ava who seems out of it. Helen moves toward me and opens the door farther, stepping into the hall.

"Ava's had a rough day today. She's just fallen asleep." Helen steps farther into the hallway and I see Grace moving toward me.

"Thanks, Helen. I need to speak to Grace for a moment. Can you check on Ava in a few minutes to be certain she's sleeping?" I glance at my little girl and then back at Helen.

"Of course, do what you need to." The older woman's soft smile is motherly, a face I know I can trust. She backs away as Grace lets herself out of Ava's room and joins me in the hallway. She has a sullen glower on her face and avoids eye contact with me, walking right past me toward her bedroom door. Helen shrugs and watches as I follow Grace to her room.

"Hey, Grace, can we talk?" If Ava wasn't' sleeping, I know she'd have slammed the door as she entered. As it is, she stops abruptly and stands in the doorway, door knob in hand so I can't enter her room.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice a little louder than I'd like. Helen doesn't need to hear us bickering, though I wasn't expecting to bicker. I want to just talk.

I glance at Helen whose ears are turned our direction, though she pretends to be peeking into Ava's room. The old woman is as nosy as any small town gossip, and has the connections in this town to make sure all our private conversations are broadcast as loudly as public radio. Fortunately, we don't live here, and I think Helen is a little classier than that.

I can see Grace is upset about something, probably how late I worked today. So I step toward her, nearly forcing her to back into the room. I know she won't cause a scene because it may wake Ava. And with Helen watching, I hope she gets the point that this should be a private conversation.

She relents and I walk into her room and she shuts the door behind me and scowls with her arms crossed over her chest while I look around. She hasn't made herself at home this time. Her clothing dangles out of her suitcase rather than being neatly folded and placed into drawers. I'm shocked by the size of her suitcase, though and I chuckle.

"Something funny?" she asks, harsh and biting tone.

"Uh... No." I pull my gaze away from her comical suitcase and look her in the eye. "I wanted to ask you if you would attend the ground-breaking ceremony with me." I clasp my hands together, arms hanging in front of me. She squints and shakes her head.

"You mean, to watch Ava? That's why I'm here." Grace walks across the room, nervously shoving the dangling sleeves of a red shirt into the suitcase.

"No, as my date." The words seem to send a jolt through her. Her hands stop working, one gripping the suitcase, the other shoved into it up to the wrist. She freezes for a second and then stops and tucks her chin to her chest as she rises to a standing position.

"Uh, no. That's not a good idea. Who will watch Ava?" She is avoiding eye contact and her tone is absurdly curt. I have done nothing wrong today except work a bit later than I planned. This entire trip is supposed to be about showing her how I could care for her, and she is upset for no reason.

"Helen can watch her. I've already asked her about it--did it when I booked the B&B for the week and paid for the guests who were supposed to be here to stay at the resort up the hill." I'm not taking no for an answer. I have to have a plus one and who am I going to ask in this town?

"She's a stranger," Grace says in a snappy retort, but her tone isn't convincing. She knows Helen as well as I do and she knows Ava loves Helen.

"I trust her, and I'm Ava's father." I square my shoulders and take a step toward her. Her resistance is irritating to me. She has to know the entire reason I asked her is because I have feelings for her. The calls, the invitations, the sex--my god the sex.

"The answer is no, Fletcher, and I can't support your decision to spend another night away from Ava." Grace bend and continues stuffing rebellious clothing into the overstuffed baggage and I try my hardest not to lose it, but she is infuriating.

"What are you talking about?" I demand, moving closer to her. She continues what she's doing without answering so I bend and grab her wrist, stopping her action. She straightens and I say, "Why would you say that?"

"I don't understand how you can work so late and not spend time with your daughter."

"It was one night."

"It was three weeks, Fletcher. And long weekends, and a child throwing tantrums and me trying to explain to her why you didn't love her anymore. Because I swear that's what she thinks. I--"

"You what!" I cut her off and I know I shouldn't but none of this is true. Grace doesn't even know who I am, not even after seeing me in the classroom with those kids for a week straight?

"I..." she mutters, nostrils flaring. She's fuming mad and now so am I, but just touching her skin makes me ache for her.

My eyes search her face--tears welling up, quivering lip, nostrils flaring then relaxing. There is something she's wanting to say but she can't, and god knows there is something I'm wanting too, and it's not this. It's not fighting and getting steamed up only to resort to kissing her just to make her shut up again. Grace has my whole fucking heart and I can't even tell her.

"Grace, I don't think you know who I am."

"What?"

Her tongue flicks over her bottom lip and she blinks hard. One tear escapes but doesn't run down her face. I cup her cheek gently and use my thumb to brush it away. She tries to form coherent words but they come out as guttural sounds and sighs. It's like she doesn't understand what I'm doing.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?" I ask her, because it's the only thing I can think to say.

I see some sort of emotional pain flit across her face, but her eyes plead with me to do exactly that. To kiss her. So I do. I bend slightly and press my lips against hers, acutely aware that my body is responding to just being close to her. She is hesitant at first, stiffening her body and pulling away, until I free her arm and wrap my hand around her waist. Then she leans in and embraces the kiss and opens her mouth to me.

As our lips move together, I feel a sudden surge of heat coursing through my veins. A deep growl escapes my throat as I pull her closer to me, pressing my body against hers. Her hands slide up my chest, gripping onto my shirt as we deepen the kiss, our tongues dancing in a passionate rhythm.

She wants me as desperately as I want her. I break the kiss, panting heavily as I gaze into her eyes. They're dark with desire, reflecting the same hunger that's burning inside of me. I can't hold back any longer, I need her now. My hands move to her hips, forcing her backward as I stalk her.

She stumbles back until her back hits the wall. I press my body against hers, pinning her there with my hips. Her breath hitches in her throat as she feels the hardness between my legs pressing against her. I can feel her heart racing, matching mine beat for beat.

I lean in and capture her lips again, my hands moving to her shirt. I fumble with the fastenings, trying to get them open. She helps me, shrugging out of the shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Her skin is warm to the touch, smooth and soft. I run my hands over her shoulders, then down her arms. I curl my hands around her wrists and lift them above her head and pin them there with one of my hands. I use my free hand to explore her body, sliding it down her side and over her hip.

I move my lips to her neck, kissing the sensitive skin there. I feel her body tense up with desire as my lips travel down to her chest where I kiss her collarbone before going to the soft swell of her breasts. My fingers push her bra down on one side, taking her nipple into my mouth. Grace moans as I suck on it gently and swirl my tongue around it.

I let go of her wrists and slide my hands down her body, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her jeggings. I pull them down along with her panties. She steps away and kicks them aside. My hands reach for her ass and squeeze it gently. I kiss her neck again, then down to her shoulder. Her hands search my body now, tugging at my shirt too.

"Fletcher, god.... I need you." Her words are breathy and desperate, like gasps from a drowning victim pleading for air.

I grab her by the ass and lift her up, she wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. I carry her over to the bed and lay her down on it, positioning myself between her legs. I kiss her again, my tongue pushing into her mouth. I can feel her wetness on my stomach where my skin is exposed, then reach over my head with one arm and yank my shirt off.

"You have no idea what you do to me..." I growl as her hands tug at the fly of my slacks. I kiss her again as I feel her hand wrap around my cock. She gasps into my mouth as she slowly strokes me.

I sit up on my knees and pull my pants off, then lean back down and kiss her. Her bra is the only fabric keeping our flesh from becoming fully one. My fingers fumble with the clasp and she smiles against my mouth as she reaches behind her back to undo it. I take the opportunity to run my hands over her breasts, then I cover them with my mouth.

"Oh, god..." she moans softly as I flick her nipples with the tip of my tongue. "You have no idea..." I breathe against her skin.

My hands smooth down her sides, then run over her hips. Then I focus back on her breasts. My fingers brush the sides of her nipples, gently teasing them until they're hard peaks.

"Still mad at me?" I ask her, but the way she bites my lip tells me she's not. And then she pushes my dick lower, sliding my head through her moisture. God the way this woman makes me feel is insane.

"Now..." she whispers, and I don't hesitate.

I dip my hips and I thrust deep into her. I'm careful to keep my movements gentle and even, even though I want to pound into her.

"Yes..." she breathes, and my hands move lower until they're holding her thighs. I hold her open, and I feel her muscles clench around my dick.

"More..." she whimpers. Her hands claw at my sides in frantic, short movements. Her hips rock and grind in rhythm with me and all I can think is how incredible she feels wrapped around me.

"Like that?" I murmur as I thrust into her again, deeper. I feel her body jerk and shiver and I know I've hit her in the right place.

"More..." she whispers and her legs tighten around my waist. The strength of her hands pushes me back and I look down, watching myself slide in and out of her. The sight makes me groan. Her pussy is so slick it my cock glides in and out.

"Oh fuck." I'm on the edge and I'm just waiting for her to gasp and let her body succumb to the delight of climax. I grit my teeth, tensing every muscle in my body, but I can't stop it. My balls draw up, and I feel the pressure building. "I'm going to come."

"Yes... me too," she gasps. "Now..." Her hands dig into my back and she arches into me, her nails biting into my skin.

"Oh, fuck," I grunt. I feel her pussy tighten around me and I thrust deep inside her one last time, spurting my cum.

She convulses and groans, "God!" I hold her tight, rocking into her, riding out the aftershocks of our orgasms, and then I lay my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat slow. She heaves out several breaths and then pushes on my shoulders.

There is no talk of forgetting a condom. No mad rush to the bathroom. I roll to my side and she sits up. Her legs dangle from the side of the bed; the heels of her palms press against the edge of the mattress. Her hair falls around her face like a veil, preventing me from seeing her expression. I can't read her thoughts if I can't see the look on her face. Her shoulders rise and fall as she slows her breathing, and I prop myself on my elbow and watch her. It's the longest we've lingered after a sexual encounter, and I'm not eager to move yet.

Grace stands but doesn't walk away. It's like she's trying to formulate the words she wants to say. I want to prompt her, urge her to open the dam she's built on her own emotions, but I don't want to push her over the edge. So I remain silent, watching my cum dribble down the back of her thigh. Finally, she heaves out a sigh and says, "I have to tell you something."

I open my mouth to speak but someone knocks on the door and she turns abruptly. "Uh..." She hovers between bed and bathroom and I sit up and grab my boxers out of my crumpled pants on the ground.

"Yeah?" I call.

"Mr. Davis, Ava would like to see you." It's Helen, and I'm glad she has enough sense to keep the door shut.

"Be right there," I call and stand to dress. "What is it, Grace?" I ask her softly.

"Yes, I'll go with you," she spits out, then dashes to the bathroom. I'm certain it isn't what she wanted to say, but I am not going to protest. We can talk about whatever that is later. For now, I have a date, and my daughter needs me.

God... this is going better than I hoped.

Chapter 24

I didn't know what to expect when I agreed to attend the ground-breaking ceremony. I thought these things were all black-tie affairs, suits and gowns. Turns out this one is about as laid back as this little beach town is. Fletcher is wearing khaki's and boat shoes, and he asked me to wear a yellow sundress--which he picked for me at a local store. I hate the color yellow, but I have to admit it looks good on me.

He has been a gentleman the entire evening, parading me around all the city council members, library board members, and donors who've given to this project to make it possible. Each of them has had a comment on how "cute we are as a couple." Fletcher hasn't backed away from a single comment, but each time I hear it I feel more sick, or maybe it's the seafood they're serving as appetizers.

"You're doing it again," he chides, patting my hand. I'd rather be back at the B&B with Helen and Ava. I'm sure my face is screwed up into a scowl or a glower. If I had a dollar for every time he's commented on my resting bitch face tonight I'd have enough to buy a large pizza which might just drown my sorrows.

I take a deep breath, conscious of the folks around us now staring at me, and force a smile. Fletcher is good at this, forcing a smile onto his face for the general public, but how can I? The secret I'm carrying is heavy and it's only natural to allow my introspection to color my features. If I could be happy twenty-four-seven, I would be.

"You're too tense. I don't think anyone cares if you enjoy this event."

Fletcher may be a perfect gentleman to me and to those around us, but he's been grumpy again--complaining about the sea breeze making his sinuses dry, the sand tracked in on the marble floors, the drinks being too small to enjoy. Don't get me wrong, if we were an old married couple that is exactly what we'd be talking about because I agree. But we're not married. We're not even dating. We're not even on the same page and it's my fault because I haven't told him about the baby.

"These things are all about how you are perceived in the public eye, Grace." His smile is so tight his words are almost muffled as he speaks to me. He cares too much about what these people think. It's frustrating, but I stay in step with him and keep my shoulders relaxed and my fake smile in place. It's just one night. I don't have to date him or marry him or...

I sigh, realizing that while those things aren't thinks I have to do, deep in my heart, they're things I want to do. My hand unconsciously flits to my stomach where I know life is growing. It's stupid of me to think that just because I'm pregnant Fletcher will want to date or marry me. Sex is one thing, but this is a huge change in life. He already has one child who doesn't see enough of him. How can I insert myself into his life only to be neglected because of his long work hours and trips?

He guides me toward the snack bar and the scent of the cocktail shrimp hits my nose. I feel a wave of nausea that almost knocks me over. I hold my hand to my nose and try not to let my disgust show. "Uh, Fletcher, I think I need to..." I back away but he scowls at me.

"Stop being ridiculous, Grace. We can just get a snack and then I want you to meet the chairman." He pulls me closer to the table but what appears to be a delectable spread for everyone else is only triggering my morning sickness. My stomach protests, cramping and swirling.

"No, please. I think I need the--"

"Grace, come on." Even his gentle coaxing isn't enough to stop the eruption. I turn away from him just in time to double over and vomit all over the floor. Luckily, it misses both of our shoes, but it does get on the foot of a table and I'm mortified. When the first wave of retching stops, I look up at him with tears in my eyes and rush out of the room into the hallway that leads toward the front of the library.

The heels I wear clop on the floor, drawing all sorts of attention and drowning out even my own thoughts. I'm sobbing and ready for the next violent outburst of my stomach, barely making it to the trash can near the front door before it comes up. I double over the can, spewing my guts out, and I feel a hand grasping my hair.

"Hey, I'm so sorry. It's okay," Fletcher says gently. His hands smooth over my back and hold my hair out of the way as the vomiting continues. I tried to tell him, to warn him this was going to happen. I should have just turned and ran the instant I noticed how I was feeling, but I didn't want to be rude. Now here I am hovering over other people's garbage trying not to aspirate chunks of my lunch.

"Here," he says, thrusting a handkerchief into my hands. I wipe my face first, then blow my nose.

When I feel the episode is passing, I stand up and grimace. There is no saving this handkerchief, so I just toss it. "Fletcher, I..."

"So you don't like seafood... maybe the shrimp was bad. It's okay. No one will care." He grasps my arm and looks around, as if making sure the coast is clear. "Uh, the only bathroom is through that room, but I'm sure you feel a little uncomfortable right now."

"Fletcher, I..."

"Don't. You don't have to apologize. You know, let me just take you back to the B&B. The important part is done here, and we can have a night cap and wash that taste out of your mouth."

Why is he being so fucking sweet! Why now? Why here? My heart is racing. My skin is clammy. I feel like I got kicked in the gut by a horse, and my mouth tastes like yesterday's digested pizza. I look into his damn perfect eyes and I can't do it anymore. I'm not cut out for faking anything.

"Fletcher, I'm pregnant." I blurt it out because that's the only way it's coming out, like a load of fresh puke I can't hold down.

Then, I bolt. I race toward the door and down the steps outside. I can't look at him. I don't want to know his reaction or see his face. I am blinded by tears anyway, and if his reaction is anything like I think it will be, I don't want to know. I have to get away from him because every second I spend with him I find myself wanting more of them. More minutes, more days, more life, more closeness, and I curse my own heart for caring.

I look both ways before crossing the street, darting between some parked cars to get to the sidewalk. I lose a heel, but I don't stop to collect it. I won't even miss it. Instead, I keep jogging until I am out of breath a few blocks away, where the sidewalk turns to a wooden boardwalk, which turns to a sandy path leading between the dunes and onto the beach.

The crashing surf beckons to me. I toss my second heel and walk across the uneven sand, thankful that out here I'm alone. There are no tourists this late at night. There are no lights, no boats, only me and the moon. The secret is out and I have to face the consequences now, but for the moment I can cry and breathe.

I step into the edge of the water, letting it rush up over my ankles and then suck the sand from beneath my feet. I feel overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the ocean and I'm reminded that my life is so small compared to the universe, which strangely brings me some small comfort. That I'm a part of this larger community of survivors--folks who have all had their ups and downs. I'm alone, but not truly alone. I just have to ride this wave until it crashes on the shore and spits me out, and then I'll be fine. The hardest part is over.

Now, I have a new beginning waiting. Even if it doesn't look the way I want.

Chapter 25

Grace turns her back and runs off, sundress swooping out so far I almost see her undergarments. I start after her at first, until the shock of what she's just said hits me. She's pregnant?

I stare after her from the top step outside the library. She runs across the street, between some cars and turns down a side street. One of her shoes lays on the sidewalk beneath a streetlight and that is where I focus my gaze. It's like I'm in a trance, staring at her shoe as I try to collect my thoughts.

The flightiness, the emotions... Grace has been hot and cold this whole trip, not to mention in the classroom last week. I think about lunches where she hardly ate, the way her tits seem a bit larger than they were a few months ago. She has tried to tell me at least three times now but something always interrupted. That's what she was telling me Monday night when Helen knocked. She wanted to say it then.

"Oh, holy fuck," I mumble raking a hand through my hair. I'm such a fool. I should have seen this coming. In the bathroom at the school, she said we didn't need a condom, but she'd already have known by then. She wasn't trying to get pregnant; she already was.

Which means it happened when that fucking condom broke and this is my fault. She has to be scared or overwhelmed. What if she doesn't want to keep it? My god, how would I cope with that? My mind races through all the what ifs of this situation and I'm completely in my own world when someone taps me on the shoulder.

"Fletcher, dinner is finally being served." I look up to see the chairman with a grin on his face.

"I, uh..." I lick my lip. I can't leave her out there alone. She went straight for the beach. I don't think for a second she'll hurt herself or be in danger, but she's hurting. She's probably scared or wonders what I think.

"How is Grace?" he asks, concern softening the edge of his voice.

"She's not well. I think I should go be with her. I apologize profusely for any offense it causes but--"

"Speak nothing of it." He waves off my concern. "Go to her." He winks at me as if he understands that matters of the heart trump any pomp or circumstance surrounding a reputation. Then he nods at me and walks away and I renew my focus on her heel as I descend the stairs and cross the street.

I'm so fixated on what I might say to her or how she will respond that I don't even see the car coming until the driver lays on the horns and squeals to a stop. My hand instinctively goes to the hood of the car and I lean on it. Shock grips me. With wide eyes I pat the hood and continue across the street until my feet are on the sidewalk and the driver shouts at me as he pulls away. I'm going to be a father again and I almost get myself killed trying to go after the woman I love--fuck's sake.

After a deep breath, I snatch her heel and head the direction I saw her go. The sea breeze wreaks havoc on my sinuses. The salt dries me out worse than a hot dry day in Chicago. I find myself coughing a bit as I wind through the streets toward the sand. Sidewalk gives way to the boardwalk then the beach and I see the other one of Grace's heel's there. I pick it up, knowing I'm on the right path.

Only a few yards off the boardwalk, I see her there. Her back is to me. The moonlight illuminates the sand enough that I can plainly see her silhouette. Her dress dances in the breeze along with her hair. It's a sight I want to remember the rest of my life, because this is going to go one of two ways. Either she's going to see how desperate I am for her to be a part of my life and tell me she feels the same way, or she's going to run off and I'll never get a second shot.

I kick off my shoes and leave both pairs near the path that leads to the beach. My socks are full of sand after two steps but I don't care. I'm not sure what to say to her when I meet her, but I know I can't stay away. There is a reason she ran when she said that, and it isn't because she wasn't happy. Something tells me being a parent means the world to Grace, the same as it does to me.

The crashing waves are loud, so when I call her name the first time she doesn't even turn. She probably can't hear me. I take a few more steps and call out again, "Grace!"

She turns, her face bathed in moonlight, and I can see she's been crying. She swipes at her cheeks and looks back at the water with fallen shoulders.

"You didn't have to come out here."

"Grace, can we talk."

"Say what you came to say. I know already." She starts walking away, feet in the surf leaving footprints in her wake.

"Grace, stop." I rush to keep up, both my socks and pant legs getting soaked.

"It's okay, Fletcher. I know I don't fit into your plan. I can see the way you work long hours and make your job more important than anything." Her hand waves as she talks and I catch it and force her to stop.

"Listen to me."

"What!" she snaps, bursting into tears again. "You're going to swear to me that it's not true? You're going to tell me you're not just a grumpy old man who neglects his daughter? So you spent the last three days with Ava--what is life if the only time your child gets to spend with you is when you volunteer at her school or take a vacation!"

All of her words reveal what's actually been happening. She really thinks that trip is how I normally treat my daughter. She has it settled in her head that I'm an absent parent and that I'm horribly grumpy, and that is a lie I need to correct immediately.

"Just say it, Fletcher. You don't want another child because you don't have time for the one you have. I don't want to be your nanny Fletcher. I don't want to replace in Ava's life what you should be doing. And I don't want to raise a baby alone!"

"Grace, will you shut up for a second and let me talk?"

I pull her against my chest and hold her there tightly. She looks shocked, eyes wide open, mouth agape. Her hands protest my grip, but I am stronger than her.

"I asked you to come on this trip because I can't imagine life without you. I think about you when I have coffee, when I shower, when I drive to work. I think about you when I tuck Ava in and when we have dinner. When I'm alone and when I'm surrounded by people expecting me to do my job."

Her eyes search my face. "What...?"

"I am in love with you, Grace. Helplessly, fully, completely in love with you. You're it for me." I squeeze her tightly and shake my head. "I never thought I'd find love again anywhere. I swear I'm not the absent father or grumpy old man you think I am. I felt comfortable around you to let my demons out a little because I was under such pressure.

"I hate being away from Ava. We spend every day from three p. m. on together. Having to work those long hours, on top of the frustrations of the project itself made me so irritable. You saw the very worst of me, not the man I want to be for Ava or for you, or for our baby." I slide my hand down across her stomach and feel the hard bulge there. Why didn't I feel this Monday when we had sex? How could I have missed all the signs?

"But we just fight... And--"

"And if you don't have passion in a relationship you have boredom. I want every single bickering match the rest of my life to be with you. I want to bicker about restaurants and vacations, about cars and homes and how to raise our children. I want you, Grace."

"But you..." She stares at me in complete confusion. Her forehead is so wrinkled with emotion I have to smooth it with my thumb. "Fletcher, I..."

"Grace, I love you." I want to say something, anything, to make her believe me, but I can't force it. "I would never neglect you or our child. If you don't believe me, just ask Ava. You thought she was acting out because she's always neglected. She's been acting out because she misses you. And on that trip she was acting out because of how much time I normally spend with her, not because I always neglect her."

"I don't know what to say," she mutters, lost in my gaze.

"Say you feel the same way? That you have even thought about me like this? That you think it might work? Because I think it will."

"But... Nick..."

I smile. Then I chuckle. Then I press my lips against hers and kiss her as if my life depends on it. When I pull away I whisper, "I'll deal with Nick. Now just tell me you want me."

"Oh god do I want you," she whimpers and as I part my lips and search her mouth with my tongue she cries again. Only, this time her tears are those of happiness. She clings to me and I to her. No one is coming between us ever again, especially not even one of us.

Chapter 26

Fletcher carries me back to the B&B and we sneak in silently. I don't even know where my shoes are, or his for that matter, and I don't care. All I can do is cry and lavish kisses on him. Never did I think that Fletcher was in love with me. I thought maybe at most he had an infatuation with me--maybe because I'm younger and the sex is hot. But in love?

My arms hold fast to his neck and shoulders as he carries me into his room and shuts the door quietly. We both have feet covered in sand, and there is a distinct trail from the front door to his bedroom. Helen won't even need to use her detective skills to know I'm in here and I don't care. All I want is to be lost in him tonight until the entire world is gone and it's just us.

"God, Fletcher," I cry, feeling the dampness of my tears against my cheeks and his. "I'm in love with you too." I don't want to let go of him, even when he lays me on the bed and rushes off to the bathroom. I don't know what he's doing, but he returns with a roll of toilet paper and a wet wash rag.

"Here, baby," he says, handing me the toilet paper. Confused, I chuckle and take it, then unroll a few sheets and pull them free so I can blow my nose.

Fletcher drops to his knees, using the was rag to clean the sand from my feet. It's warm and comforting. When he finishes one, he kisses it, then goes to the other. His hands massage my tender soles, aching from running barefoot, and he looks up at me with compassion and love. It's not the lusty, desire-driven sort of look I've seen in his eyes before.

"What are you--"

"Shhh," he interrupts, making sure all the sand is off my toes before shedding his socks and then his wet slacks. He pulls his polo off and drops it to the floor, then his boxers. His dick is hard, springing up as the elastic is pulled free, and I can't take my eyes off it. My heart feels full and overwhelmed and hungry all at once. Especially when he kneels on the edge of the bed and reaches up beneath my sundress to pluck my panties away from my skin and pull them off.

"Fletcher..." I whisper, glancing at the door, but he's too busy advancing on me.

"I want to make you feel good, and I want you to enjoy this." He again reaches beneath the soft cotton fabric and lifts it, this time to disappear from the shoulders up beneath it.

I giggle and squeal as he growls against my mound, then presses his mouth there. I gasp and hold my breath, aching for more as his tongue explores the folds of my pussy.

He takes his time, nipping with his teeth, flicking his tongue, gently sucking my clit between his lips. I moan and writhe and twist beneath him, struggling to keep from crying out when his finger slip inside me. I feel like I'm floating, my body light and free, as he licks and kisses my clit. I reach down and fold the sundress up over my tummy so I can watch him, so I can lace my fingers through his hair and urge him on.

He groans in response and thrusts a finger inside me, then another, fucking me with them while he sucks my clit. It's intense, the feeling of being filled and licked at the same time. He adds a third finger, and I cry out, digging my heels into the mattress.

"Oh fuck, Fletcher!" I gasp. "I'm gonna come!"

He sucks my clit into his mouth and I explode beneath him, crying out as the orgasm rocks my body. I shudder and shake, my pussy clenching his fingers, my hips lifting from the bed as I spasm with pleasure. "Oh my god," I whimper. The sensations are so overwhelming I can barely breathe, my heart pounding as the pleasure surges through me. I hear Fletcher's satisfied hum, and I can hardly contain my relief when he gently slides his fingers out of me. He pulls away and sits back on his heels between my legs, gazing at me with a satisfied grin on his face.

I reach for him, saying, "That was amazing." But instead of joining me, he uses my outstretched arms to pull me up. My legs are weak, but I stand at the edge of the bed as he shimmies the sundress over my shoulders and pushes it down until it slips past my hips and falls to the ground.

"May I make love to you?" His gruff whisper against my cheek makes the hair on my arms and the back of my neck rise.

"No, but you can fuck me," I reply, then feel his cheek shift as he grins.

"Or you can fuck me." Fletcher takes me by the hips and turns us both, sitting on the mattress. He backs up as I crawl over him, our eyes locked in a heated gaze. I've never been on top, but I'm not afraid to try. So when he holds his cock erect, I position my hips over him and sink.

"Oh fuck," I groan, feeling his girth stretch me.

"You're so tight," Fletcher says, his voice strained as I sink lower. I feel a slight twinge of pain, but I focus on the pleasure that is building.

"Fuck me, Fletcher," I say. "Fuck me hard." I lean forward, bracing my hands on his shoulders as I rotate my hips, grinding against him. He bucks beneath me, pushing up into me, and I can feel my pussy stretching to accommodate him. The sensation is overwhelming, and I lean back, steadying myself with my hands on his thighs. Fletcher's hands are on my ass, guiding me, and I rise and fall on him, riding him like a horse. I'm panting, my breath coming in short bursts as I ride him faster and faster.

"Is this what you want?" I ask, my voice raspy with need. "Is this how you like it, Fletcher?" I can feel him swelling inside me. He's close to coming, and I'm so close to the edge myself.

He grunts and nods, then grips my ass as he thrusts up into me. "Yes, yes, just like that," he says. "Don't stop."

I won't. I can't. I ride him harder, faster, grinding against him as he pistons up into me. He hits places I've never been touched before. The tension in my vagina is so exquisite, I know another orgasm is imminent.

"That's it," he says, his voice strained. "Oh fuck, that's it."

"I'm going to come," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Oh wow." I throw my head back, feeling the orgasm wash over me as Fletcher thrusts one last time and comes deep inside me. I can feel his cock pulse, and I lean forward, bracing my hands on the mattress as I ride it out.

"Fuck," he says, his voice hoarse. "You're amazing." HIs hips continue to pump, weaning me from the spasms and twitches, until I'm breathless and spent. I lie on top of him, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.

"You're amazing," I say, and he chuckles.

"I don't know about that," he replies. "But I'm glad you liked it."

Hot, steamy sex is one thing, but sex with a man I love is next level. He rolls to the side, but stays inside of me as our legs tangle together. Kissing my forehead, he pins me to his chest and sighs. "I'm not letting you go, you know? You don't get a choice."

"Well it's a good thing because I don't want to leave. Except if you're going to be an ass to me in the morning over coffee." I grin and he shakes his head, snickering. "So honestly, what about Nick?"

"I said I'll deal with Nick, okay? I will do it the right way. Grace, we're in love and I know he'll understand that. Besides, you'll have to hide that belly of yours in a few weeks if you keep this a secret any longer."

I am acutely aware of the bulge between us that has only gotten bigger over the past few weeks. I close my eyes, enjoying his embrace, and before I know it I'm asleep. I wake in the middle of the night with a chill and find a t-shirt and shorts in Fletcher's suitcase. When I climb back into bed, he's beneath the covers and pulls me into himself again, spooning me. It's nights like this that I want every single night for the rest of my life.

When the first rays of sun scream through the window, I blink awake. At first nothing seems real; then everything seems real--Fletcher's arms, his morning breath, and most distinctly, the little girl staring at me from only a foot away.

"Grace, I'm hungry. Can you make me breakfast?" Ava rubs her eyes and I freeze for a second. We haven't had any discussion with her about what's going on between us, and I'm not sure how Fletcher wants to handle it.

"Uh..." I panic for a second until I feel Fletcher squeeze me and kiss the back of my head.

"Wanna cuddle?" he asks and Ava grins and nods.

My fear slowly dissipates as the six-year-old climbs across my body and buries herself between us. Her grin and her giggles warm my heart. "Daddy, do you have to work today?"

"Nope, you and Gracie get all my time today." He kisses her and scoots over, giving us both more room in the bed. "What do you want to do?"

"Hmmm, I'm hungry. I want to go to the ocean. And Grace can come, and we will have a picnic and then we go home." She squeezes her hands against her cheeks and he looks up at me with a smile.

"What do you think, Grace? I think that sounds like a great day."

My heart is so full I have no clue what to say. All I can do is smile at this happy family and feel grateful for the way things turned out. "She says yes. Now can we eat food?" Ava pats his cheek and he tickles her, which turns into a tickle fight complete with pillows being launched around the room until Helen opens the door and interrupts us to let us know pancakes are ready. Ava races off but Fletcher lingers to kiss me deeply, and I can't help but wish breakfast would have taken a bit longer to make.

Chapter 27

Sitting in the conference room waiting for Nick to join me, I drum my fingers on the table and smile to myself. The sun shines in through the window behind me warming my back and I can't help but feel truly happy for the first time in years. Grace is off to some new adventure today at a primary school across town and Ava is back to her classes at Peabody, but I know in our hearts we are a family. We're connected now, and that connection makes the difference.

Nick taps on the door with a single knuckle and then pushes it open. He carries a portfolio folder with the recent blueprints for the project we are set to discuss, but all of that can wait. I've been eager all day to speak with him, but our schedules haven't lined up until now. Grace and I have been back from Cape May since Saturday, but this is the first chance I've had to speak to him about anything, let alone my intentions for his sister.

"Sorry I'm running a few minutes late. I got caught up with Celia in accounting. Did you know we have a surplus in our petty cash fund?" Nick rambles on as he sets up his prints on the table but I am still formulating my plan as to how I'm going to charm him. I can tell his business and chatter are linked to a sense of unrest.

Grace confessed that Nick knew about the baby before she told me, which means he's probably harboring some ill will or frustrations he hasn't spoken about yet. Why would he? He has likely been sworn to secrecy by Grace and if he were to breach that trust she would be hurt. I know how much he cares about his sister. What other single, thirty-something man would invite his sister to a free baseball game and not a date?

"Nick?" I say, cutting him off.

He finishes smoothing the prints out on the table before looking up at me. His fingers are splayed across the paper, arms locked at the elbow as he leans forward. His tie dangles from around his neck and I can see the worry lines creasing his forehead. He's ready to be confronted, and maybe he knew before he even came in that I was going to hijack our meeting in order to talk about Grace. I wonder if she told him I know now.

"Fletcher?" His chin lowers a bit and his eyes narrow. It isn't going to be easy telling him, but he has to get over it one way or another.

"I'm in love with your sister." I skip all the small talk and fanfare and cut right to the chase. The most important fact is out there in the open for him to contest or protest. He studies me, chest rising and falling, but his posture doesn't change. His expression does though. His eyes narrow farther, forehead crinkling more deeply.

His tongue flicks over his bottom lip and then he purses them. I could probably have found a less abrupt way of saying it, but he knows she's having my baby. If love isn't a good enough reason to accept me into his family, then he's got to adjust his priorities.

"Well, say something," I prompt him, tapping my fingertips on the table again. I'm not a shy man. I don't back down from a fight, even if it is my best friend and business partner.

Nick straightens, crams a hand through his hair, and then sinks into his seat. "She told me you knocked her up. I just didn't believe her." He shakes his head and scowls. "How could you take advantage of her, Fletch? She's a kid."

I chuckle, which turns to a belly laugh, but he doesn't join me. I hum out a sigh of acceptance. He's pissed and expects an apology or explanation. "She's not a baby, Nick. Believe me."

"God that's my fucking sister, Fletcher." Nick's scowl deepens and I watch his hands ball up into fists. I get that he wants to protect her, but he's sorely misguided.

"Calm down, buddy." I take a deep breath and lean forward, folding my hands together on the table. "I understand that you're probably a little steamed we didn't come to you sooner."

"A little steamed?" He raises his voice and stands again, pacing his side of the table. "Fletcher, you had every chance to tell me you were interested in her, and you kept it to yourself. What? Were you afraid I'd tell you to leave her alone?"

I let him pace for a while, grumbling and making odd noises as he speaks to himself. He'll wear himself out after a while and then we can have a rational discussion. It's how Nick works. He has to make it make sense in his mind before he can listen to any arguments that might disrupt his train of thought. I've seen him do it a dozen times on projects we've worked on together. So when he stops abruptly and turns to me, I know he's ready to listen.

"Well?"

"Well, Nick, Grace is an amazing woman. She is strong and confident. She's funny and charming. She's great with children and great in the--" I catch myself before making a sexual comment, then go on. "And she's the only woman who has even piqued my interest since Nannette. She's nothing short of a miracle."

Nick squints at me, the light behind me probably blinding him. Then he walks to the window, shuts the blinds and finally takes his seat. He pores over the blueprints as if he's finally found the fountain of youth or something, but he says nothing. No response to what I've said, no questions, no anger. When he points out what we've perceived to be a flaw and his jaw drops like he's going to change the subject, I cut him off.

"And I want to marry her, Nick. I want us to be a family."

"Fuck's sake, Fletch. One thing at a time." His shoulders square, his jaw setting. He runs a hand through his hair again and I roll my eyes.

"What the hell is wrong? I am one of your oldest friends. We do life together here at the office and even out socially from time to time. I'm responsible, dedicated, wealthy. I make sure my daughter has everything she needs, including ample time with me. I have my future planned out, and I'm in great health. Why would you even bat an eyelash at that?"

I let the frustration I'm feeling toward his reaction leach into my tone and he sits back with eyes wide. He knows this could turn very ugly very fast, though I don't intend to let it. I just want him to grow up and realize his sister is happy with me, that she can make her own decisions without him hovering.

His chest heaves and he purses his lips. He's still pissed. He rolls up his sleeves as if he's preparing for a fist fight, but then he leans back in the chair and rests his head on the headrest. His fingers fold together and he sighs.

"It's not you. It's her." I wait, giving him time to think. "I just don't want her to jump into this simply because she got pregnant. It's not the sixties anymore. Women can be single moms now."

"But she doesn't want to be, Nick. She wants a family too. She wants to be with me."

His head slowly rises and he looks at me. I see the worry there that he's trying to hide. "And what if it doesn't work out the way your first marriage did? Then what? She's unhappy and you just let her leave?"

His words are an unwelcome accusation but I don't let them rile me. "Nanette cheated on me with a younger man and she chose to leave. I would have worked things out... maybe. But Grace isn't like that, and even if she was, it wouldn't matter. She's it for me, Nick. I'm in love with her. I just wanted your blessing."

Nick grunts and shakes his head but I am not giving up.

"If you don't want to give me your blessing that's okay, but I'm still planning to ask her to marry me. I'm going to provide for her and care for her. She'll never want for anything. She can stay at home or work full time, and together we will raise our baby and Ava like they are our own. And if you can't get behind that, you're the one who will miss out."

Nick's scowl starts to soften and he rubs his hand over his face a few times. His shoulders relax and droop, and he leans forward and plants his elbows on the table. "You're really serious?"

"Yes. I am."

"I'm kinda pissed, Fletch. You said nothing? Two whole months after you seduced my sister, and you said nothing."

"Uh, technically, she kissed me first." I chuckle and sit back in my seat and Nick glowers at me. He's not happy with the idea that she pursued me but it's the way things went. "And it wasn't my place. Grace is her own woman. She was always the one leading things, until I realized I couldn't live without her. Then, I just told her how I felt and she jumped on me."

"God, Fletch!" Nick grimaces and covers his ears briefly before blurting out, "She's my fucking sister? TMI."

I laugh hard and finally, after a tense ten-minute conversation, he joins me. We laugh it off as we discuss the changes in the dynamic of our relationship. I don't just want Grace to be my family, it means Nick will be my brother too, which means offering him an equal share in the firm. Not just a partner in thought, but now in title and the full definition of the word. And even if, like Nick is scared of, something doesn't work out between Grace and I, he will remain my partner until this firm goes under or until one of us dies.

Now, if I can convince Grace to be my partner in the sense that she will be mine forever and never have another, I'll have everything.

Chapter 28 -- Epilogue.

"Stop fussing!" Mira swats at my hand for the fifth time in a row but I can't help it. The way she's done my hair is annoying and it keeps falling in my eyes. I stare at her reflection in the mirror as she pins more hair down in soft curls. Having her here today to help me with hair and makeup has been a godsend.

"Sorry, it's just itchy. Besides, once that sea breeze hits me the entire thing will fall and that will be that." I grin at her and she scowls playfully. It could have been my mom in here with me getting ready to walk down the aisle, but she chose to sit with my grandparents. I can see them out the window of the B&B where the small canopy decked out in flowers and streamers casts a bit of shade on the sand.

"Sure you don't want the perfume?"

"No... Too many bees and bugs. I think I'll be fine." I pull the front of my strapless dress up again. My belly is so large now that it's uncomfortable to move, let alone wear an eight-hundred-dollar dress across the sand. I'm going barefoot too, a necessity when you're this pregnant. I still have a few months left, but Fletcher insisted we wed before the holidays so Ava's gift could be a new mommy. I thought it was so sweet and romantic, and I agreed.

"Who gets married on the beach in October anyway?" Mira has been questioning our choice for weeks, but she is still here helping out.

"Would you rather we be in the Windy City with Halloween decorations everywhere? I could have a skeleton bride and groom on top of the cake." I turn and take her fidgeting hands. "Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean we are going to lose each other." I look into her eyes. I know the real reason she's antsy and emotional. "We're besties. Got it?"

"Fine, but can I go to Aruba with you?" Her grin returns and she sighs. "I can't believe you're getting married, Grace. I was supposed to meet Mr. Right and run away with him before you fell in love."

The baby kicks me so hard I can't help but wince, and I put her hand on my belly to feel it. "Are you kidding? I need a psycho Aunt Mira to help me with this little guy. He's going to be a baller. I can tell. There's not a chance that I'm running off. Just my honeymoon, then we're back to normal."

"Except girls' night will be with an actual little girl." She raises her eyebrows and scoffs. "So much for wine Wednesdays."

"Oh," I say, swatting at her playfully. "We haven't had those since I found out I was pregnant anyway. Silly."

"Ladies?" We turn to see the minister peek his head in. "We're ready. Just give me two minutes to get the men in line, and we'll be ready for you."

"Thank you!" I call as the man retreats and shuts the door. Mira looks beautiful in her lavender gown. I always thought she'd marry before me too, mostly because I'm so focused on what I love most--teaching--that I never looked for a partner. Fletcher just sort of happened.

"Let's go get you hitched, woman. I want a slice of cake." Mira snickers as she hooks her arm through mine, and we head toward the door. Fletcher and I decided to have a more non-traditional wedding, where he walks me down the aisle, not my father. So when I peek out and see Nick and Fletcher standing near the front door of the B&B ready for us, I let Mira open the door and we walk out. She lifts the hem of my dress for me as I slow descend the stairs, and Fletcher's gaze meets mine.

He's bound by some odd pact he made with Nick not to speak to me until we exchange vows, some sort of brotherhood thing or something. Or maybe he lost a bet at his bachelor party. I heard that was a bit wild. Still, it was nothing compared to the romantic way Fletcher proposed to me. People would have thought he'd have proposed on the beach since Cape May is where we fell in love and where we chose to get married, but that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Fletcher asked me to marry him while we waited in line for children to be picked up from school. He gave each of my students a little scrap of paper and had them read to me. Kindergarteners no less, so they were barely reading as it is. They read one line at a time from a poem he wrote, until the very last line, which he recited himself as he dropped to one knee in the center of a circle formed by all those tiny faces smiling at me.

Call me weird, but that made my heart feel so full. Of course I bawled, just like my eyes are threatening to do now as I hook my arm around his and walk with him out the front of the B*B into the salty air. We follow Nick and Mira, also arm in arm, and the minister as they wind down the walk toward the boardwalk. I hear the soft music playing from the quartet we hired. Helen did a fantastic job on the decorations too. There isn't a single surface that isn't covered in floral garland and ribbons.

I look up at Fletcher who is staring straight ahead. It's like he's afraid if he looks at me he's going to say something or cry, so I can only smile and admire his commitment to Nick's order for him. Whatever it is must be important.

When we step off the boardwalk into the sand, the officiant announces us and Ava rushes to our side. Her smile is exuberant, hands clutched around a bouquet of flowers which she hands to me. Fletcher picks her up and carries her in one arm as we advance. Our family and friends all stand and turn to watch us approach. Fletcher and I hang back letting Mira and Nick go first.

"Are you ready for this?" I ask him, but he only smirks at me, shaking his head.

"I'm ready for cake," Ava says, making Fletcher chuckle. It's the first peep I've heard from him since yesterday, and we even had breakfast together this morning.

He guides me across the uneven sand to the small aisle between the seats and I smile and nod at the guests as we pass each row. My mom is sobbing, standing in the front row beside my father who beams with pride. Both of them were ecstatic to learn they'd be grandparents and that I found a man I was truly in love with. They were even happier when I told them it was Fletcher. Nick, on the other hand, was sore that he hadn't figured it out. It took him a bit of time to come around, but now Fletcher and him get on like they've been brothers their whole life.

Dad winks at me as we pass and I turn to wait for Fletcher to set Ava down before he takes both of my hands and the minister begins by telling everyone to take a seat. As I stand beside Fletcher, I can feel his warmth radiating from his body, and I can't help but shiver a little in the breeze. But the minister's voice fades into the background as my eyes lock onto Fletcher's. He's everything I could ever want and I'm so happy to be here marrying him.

I listen to the prayer over our lives and decisions, all the while keeping Fletcher's gaze. The minister does the traditional portions, exchanging rings and such, and we wait as he asks for any objections. When he gets to the portion where we are supposed to exchange vows, I finally understand why Fletcher hasn't said a word today, because words on this day are more important than any other day our entire lives.

Today we give our verbal commitment to each other, that nothing will ever separate us, and that we will love each other as long as we both live. It makes me wish I had done the same thing as Fletcher, but it's too late for that. I smile at him as I open my mouth and recite the vows I wrote and memorized.

"Fletcher, I promise to love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to support you in your dreams, and be there for you in times of need. I vow to be your partner in all of life's adventures, and to stand by your side no matter what challenges we may face. I promise to be your rock when you need me, and to always love you with my whole heart."

Tears well up in his eyes and he blinks them away. A few escape, but he doesn't even try to wipe them away. I am his sole focus. it's like the rest of the world doesn't exist right now.

He takes a deep breath and begins to recite his own vows. "My sweet love," he starts, "I stand here before you today, not as a perfect man, but as a man who loves you more than anything in this world. I vow to be your rock, your support, and your protector. I promise to love you with all my heart, to cherish you for all eternity, and to make every moment we share together a moment that you will remember for the rest of your life."

I can feel the passion and sincerity in his voice, and my heart swells with love and admiration for this man.

"I also promise to champion you in every way, and to fill your belly with as many babies as you want to have." That last line draws a chuckle from our guests and I find myself laughing as tears sluice down my cheeks.

Nothing about this guy is ordinary; I don't know why I thought his vows would be. I clasp his hands in mine and listen as the minister speaks to our guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Fletcher leans in and presses his lips against mine, the passion and love between us palpable. We pull away, grinning at each other like a couple of fools as applause erupt and the quartet starts playing the recessional. I kiss him again, deeper and hungrier this time. I am so in love with him, and I can't wait to spend every day for the rest of my life showing him just how much.