“You are, Dillon. In all the ways that count, you are. And some day, we will explain it to him, and he’ll realize how lucky he is to have two daddies.”
Dillon folds his arms around me, holding me close. “I love him so much.” When he eases back to look at me, I’m not surprised to see moisture in his eyes. “You too.”
Reaching out, I brush strands of hair off his brow. “I know you do, and we’re grateful to have you in our lives.”
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
There’s a double meaning there, and we both know it. I pause to consider my feelings, but it doesn’t take long to confirm it. “It does.”
“I want to kiss you so fucking badly right now.” His eyes drop to my lips, and my heart starts running a marathon.
Blood rushes to my head, and I’m tingly all over as I place my hand on his chest and tip my chin up. We move closer, maintaining eye contact, and my heart is pounding like crazy as our mouths line up.
“I’m ready!” Easton shrieks, and we instantly jerk back from one another.
“Awesome timing, buddy,” Dillon says, standing, and I lick my lips as I watch him discreetly adjust himself in his jeans.
* * *
“He’s fast asleep,” Dillon says, appearing in my kitchen forty minutes later.
“You’re a miracle worker. Some nights he takes forever to fall asleep for me.”
“I sing to him.” He places his hands on the island unit. “My voice literally puts him to sleep.”
I giggle, and it feels like forever since I’ve laughed. “Thank goodness it doesn’t have the same effect on your fans!”
“Fuck, I’ve missed that sound. You need to laugh more, Viv. I’m making that my new mission.”
I roll my eyes as I head to the refrigerator. “Do you want a beer?”
“I wish I could stay, but I can’t. We’re putting the finishing touches to the album tonight. Ro is desperate to get home to Ireland to see Emer.”
Disappointment washes over me, but I disguise it behind a smile. “No problem.” I remove the chilled bottle of white wine from the refrigerator, and Dillon strides to the cupboard, removing a glass for me. His fingers graze mine as he hands it over, shooting fiery tremors up my arm.
“I have something for you,” he admits as I pour myself some wine. “I’ve had these for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted them back or when the right time was to hand them over.” He pushes a plain, unmarked brown envelope toward me.
Opening it, I pull out a mountain of photos, and a rush of emotions slams into me. I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself.
“Shit.” He’s by my side in a second, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I can take them back.”
“No.” I gather myself, staring down at the picture of Dillon and me. It’s from one of our weekends away in Ireland. We were in Sligo in this old-fashioned restaurant that served the best fish. The picture is a little blurry, and you can tell it was taken through the window because of the angle, but it’s clear enough to remind me of the memory.
Our arms are wrapped around one another, and we’re both sporting the cheesiest grins as we stare at the stocky man with a protruding belly and shock of thick black hair holding Dillon’s phone. We look so young and so in love. It practically radiates from the photo. “I remember the restaurant owner. He had this really loud booming voice and a bellowing laugh.”
“I remember him too,” Dillon supplies. “He insisted on taking that photo because he said we personified young love.”
“We did,” I quietly admit because there’s no point denying the truth when it’s staring us in the face. “How did you end up with these?”
“The cop investigating the accident gave them to me at the hospital. He found them in the car.”
Pain glides up my throat, and I cling to Dillon’s arms. “Reeve had only given them to me that night. That’s how he confirmed who you were to me.”
“I can’t believe someone was following us the whole time you were in Ireland. I even spotted the fucker.” Dillon’s arms tighten around me. “I know he’s not here to defend himself, but that was a total asshole move on Reeve’s part.”
“It was,” I agree without hesitation. “And I told him that. I was disgusted someone was capturing our intimate moments on film. It makes me sick to think of someone watching us like that, but Reeve didn’t know they had taken it that far. He told them not to send him the photos. He just wanted to know I was protected.” Dillon is uncharacteristically quiet behind me, and I arch my head back, staring into his face. “You don’t believe that?”
“Actually, I do.” His eyes lock on mine. “Reeve was obsessive in the way he loved you. It stands to reason he’d have someone watching over you to ensure you were safe. Doesn’t mean I approve or I’m pleased about it.” Reaching down, he flicks through the photos, pulling up one that has me blushing furiously. “At least we got some incredible photos out of it.”