Molly McAdams - Capturing Peace

Walking to the bed, he turned off the lamp, flipped back the covers, and slid in before pulling me in with him. Curling his body around mine, he pressed his lips to my shoulder as the arm under me moved so his hand was flat against my stomach, and the other moved until it was over my heart.

No words, and yet he’d said so much. So much that I agreed with wholeheartedly.

I was his.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

And I was so in love with him too.

Coen—­ November 1, 2010

I WAS FROWNING by the time Saco’s wife, Olivia, was done ranting and bitching loud enough that I’d begun to wonder if she was trying to let me hear her.

Saco groaned. “Sorry, man.”

Waiting until I made sure I wouldn’t tell him he’d made a mistake in marrying her, I asked, “What was that about this time?”

“She took what little savings I had after buying the house, and put it down on a brand-­new Mercedes yesterday without telling me. When she came back, she got pissed that I wasn’t happy for her and took off to her parents’ house.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to be happy about her draining our savings, and then giving us a car payment I can’t afford.” He let out a long sigh. “Anyway, that was her, just coming back from her parents’. I’d had to go out and buy formula last night so I could feed Tate.”

I wouldn’t say it. I would. Not. Say. It. “I’m sorry, Brody.”

“Aw, damn. You’re using my first name, I think I would rather you tell me I made a mistake.”

“Are you a mind reader now?”

He laughed, but it still sounded off. “Nah, I just know you. Tell me something to get my mind off her bullshit. How are you and Reagan?”

I didn’t want to sit there and brag about my relationship when the only good thing to come from Saco’s was his son, but I knew he needed the distraction. “We’re great, to be honest. Things have . . . I don’t know. So much has changed.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Every day that passes I know more and more that I need them, and I don’t know what I would do without them. I hate that they don’t live with me, I can’t stand the fact that they aren’t my family. I don’t know how it happened, but I love that kid, and I love his mom so damn much. I want to marry her. I want to adopt—­”

“Whoa, wait.” Saco cut me off. “What? I knew you were really into her, but didn’t the two of you just start dating a few months ago?”

I paused and thought for a second. “No.”

“Yeah, Steele, it’s only been a few months. I’ve been home for a little over three months, you met her after I got home.”

My head jerked back. “Yeah, I met her the day I got out, but that was the middle of August. That was—­”

“Two and a half months ago.” Saco was quiet while I sat there, not moving, not blinking. “So two and a half months, and you already want to marry her and adopt her son?”

I still wasn’t saying anything. That couldn’t be right.

“From what you’ve told me, and the stories I’ve heard from Hudson, Reagan’s incredible. But slow down, you’re twenty-­four, she’s twenty-­two . . . just let this play out for a while. Make sure this is what you want first. Make sure you want to be a dad. I know you love them, but you don’t want to make a decision now, regret it later, and break their hearts then. If it’s meant to be, then it’s not like either of you are going anywhere. So enjoy getting to know her before you marry her. You’ll have the rest of your life with her and Parker.”

“Yeah,” I said on a breath, but I still couldn’t believe what had felt like six . . . seven months with them was only two and a half. And still I wanted them to be mine. What was it Reagan had said to me in Hudson’s apartment? “Everything’s fast with us, but fast feels right when I’m with you.” Never had truer words been spoken.

SCANNING THROUGH THE last dozen or so shots I’d just gotten, I nodded to myself and looked up at my client. “Those are gonna look great, man. If you wanted to change one more time, go for it.”

It was only supposed to be an hour-­long shoot, which is why I’d taken it when he called. And even though this is what I loved doing, I was glad the hour was almost up. I wanted to be with Reagan and Parker.

I walked over and started adjusting the lights while he changed, and glanced over my shoulder when I heard the side door to my studio open. My lips stretched into a wide grin when Reagan and Parker walked in.

Reagan’s eyes widened, and an apologetic look crossed her face when she looked around. “I didn’t know you had a shoot tonight.”

“Last minute.” I shrugged and pulled her in to kiss her quickly before hugging Parker. “Hey, bud! How was school?”

“It was good.” He looked past me at my client and asked loudly, “Are you going to shoot him?”

Reagan looked horrified for all of a second before a sharp laugh burst from her chest, and it took everything in me to keep from laughing with her and my client.

Bending down, I got close to Parker’s face and spoke softly. “Remember when I took pictures with you and your mom?” He nodded. “That’s the kind of shooting I’m doing.”

“Oh, yeah. That was cool.”

I smiled at him. “It was cool.”

“Well we’ll go so you can get back to it,” Reagan said as she put a hand on Parker’s shoulder to pull him back. “Are you coming over tonight?”

“I planned on it,” I said each word slowly as I judged her reaction.

“Okay, I’m exhausted from today—­”

Disappointment quickly flooded my chest, but I refused to let her see it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She laughed and placed a hand on my chest. “I meant, I’m exhausted in that I’m just going to be ordering takeout instead of cooking. Please come over.”

“Takeout sounds perfect, and maybe bed early and I’ll take care of you since you’re so exhausted . . .” I raised an eyebrow and she blushed.

“Coen,” she chastised.

“Drive safe, Duchess, I’ll see you soon.”

After a quick light-­saber stabbing from Parker and a kiss from Reagan, they left my studio, and I just stood there staring at the door they’d walked through.

“I didn’t know you were married.”

I turned to look at my client and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, I’m not. That’s my girlfriend.”

He looked over at the door, and a look crossed his face like that had explained it all. “Got it! Now I don’t feel bad thinking that kid had probably been the result of the milkman.”

My face dropped and hands clenched into fists, but I forced myself to laugh again. “You ready to finish this?”

“Yeah, but, Coen . . . I wouldn’t be looking out for you if I didn’t say this.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at me like he was about to deliver the worst news possible.

I steadied myself and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for him to continue. I still hadn’t completely ruled out punching him.

“I dated this girl for a while who had a daughter. I was cool with her kid, the girl was a total sweetheart. Next thing I know my girlfriend’s pregnant and freaking out, saying she can’t have another kid by herself. She tried so damn hard to get me to marry her before she had the baby; but that wasn’t about to happen. And thank God it didn’t. Found out after the kid was born that he wasn’t even mine. My girlfriend had to do a paternity test to find out who the father was because she had been fucking four different guys. Trying to get one of us to marry her because she wanted someone to help her raise her first kid. And she’d sworn up and down she was on the pill. I believed her, trusted her, loved her and her daughter . . .”