Just One Regret(45)

But as Donald pulls him back another step, I turn to Grayson. He’s removed his sunglasses to speak to Thad, and I see him battling with the same overwhelming emotions.

“It was great meeting you,” he says, spitting the words through his clenched teeth but keeping his emotions held back. “Thank you for being a fan.” He looks up, meets Donald’s gaze, and nods once. “Thank you for bringing him here.”

“I still think it’s amazing my dad knows you!” Thad shouts again, not realizing the Matsens are stepping away from us. “He is so cool.”

“Yeah,” Grayson chokes. “Your dad is cool.”

“Oh my God,” I sob and press my forehead into Grayson’s shoulder.

Grayson lets go of his hold on my thigh and wraps his arm around my back, holding me to him. His own arm is shaking with control to stay sitting.

I wipe away my tears and smile at Thad. “You are the sweetest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

He gives me a strange look before grinning. “That’s because my mom says I came from an angel.”

Another sob clogs my throat as I find myself nodding. “I bet you did.”

“We should go,” Patricia says, stepping forward and holding onto Thad’s hand. Her smile is forced when she looks at us, fighting back our tears and straining to stay sitting. “Thank you for this. You have no idea what it means for him to know you’re okay.”

Grayson twists his neck so he can meet her gaze. With a slight nod, a slight pull of his lips, he whispers, “I think I have some idea.”

As they take a few steps back, Grayson stands, pulling me with him. He lifts his hand and waves. “Take care, Thad. And keep fighting. I want to see you someday on television.”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” he shouts and begins pulling on his parents’ grip. “I want a picture!”

He rips out of Donald and Patricia’s grip and barrels directly toward us. As soon as he reaches us, he turns around. Grayson and I both crouch low so he’s in the middle of us just as Donald lifts his phone.

“That’s right. We forgot…but just one.”

“Do it!” Thad yells.

Grayson holds on to me and both of us risk the chance of screwing things up, somehow thinking the same thing, and place our hands on Thad’s shoulders just as Donald calls, “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” we say in unison.

“Awesome!” Thad turns, and before I can blink, his arms are wrapped around both of us. “Thank you. Today was so cool!”

Then he’s gone. He bounces away from us, back to his parents, before we can hold him back, before we can tell him it was the best day of our lives, too.

He easily slides his hands into Donald’s and Patricia’s waiting ones and turns his back.

But he’s not far away when I hear his playful, sweet voice, echoing in the park as he shouts, “The Legend is totally the coolest guy in the whole world! This is the best day of my life!”

We stand there in silence, arms wrapped around each other. My quiet cries and sniffles are the only thing I can hear. And even though Grayson is quiet, his trembling shoulder bouncing against my cheek tells me he’s doing the same thing.

When the Matsens have disappeared, Grayson slowly slips his arm from my waist and turns to face me.

His palm slides across my cheek, cupping the back of my head, and he tilts me so I’m staring directly into his shimmering, wet eyes.

“We’re getting married, soon. And having kids. Lots of them.”

“Okay.” I can’t argue. I think we’re feeling the same unspoken emotion.

That was our son we just watched walk away. And he was absolutely precious.

Perfect.





Epilogue





Grayson





I trail my hand up the side of my wife’s body, dipping my palm across the expanse of her stomach that’s stretched to capacity.

It will never stop amazing me how she can grow like she is, or how she can sleep comfortably with a baby inside of her.

Unable to stop myself, even knowing she needs more sleep, I lean forward and brush my lips across her cheek and slide lower, trailing my lips down the side of her neck and teasing her with flicks of my tongue.

Her shoulders quiver and her lips part in a small, breathy gasp.

“I know you’re awake,” I whisper when I reach her collarbone.

“Sleep,” she mutters through a husky voice.

“I need you.” To prove it, I slide behind her, letting my hard dick rest in the crease of her backside. Her hips push back and a shiver rolls down her back as she sighs.

Five years later and I still can’t get enough of Kennedy Legend. My wife.

Even thinking it now makes my lips stretch into a smile as she presses against me again.

“I love you,” I whisper, wanting to wake her, but still knowing my wife can be a beast without her morning cup of coffee. “Let me show you.”

“Mmm…hmmm…”

I don’t need her approval, or her acquiescence. Unless physically impossible, Kennedy never tells me no. I’d stop if she did, but my woman likes making love as much as I do, especially when she’s eight months pregnant.

I should know.

She was a beast with our first two children, and now on her third pregnancy since we got married, she still shows no sign of losing her sexual need.

Which is perfect for me, because I would still stay buried inside of her all day long if I could.

My hand dips beneath her stomach and into her panties, and I slide my fingers through her already wet, slick folds.

“Already so wet,” I murmur against her throat, sliding her onto her knees.

Pregnancy sex is a whole new ballgame, but we’ve mastered it well.

With slowness in her limbs, she pushes out of her T-shirt, and my free hand comes up and cups one of her large, full breasts.

She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

Pregnant—she’s more. She’s everything. I don’t know what it is about Kennedy pregnant, but it brings out the caveman in me. It’s the ultimate claiming, when a man plants his kid inside a woman’s stomach, and I’ve never gotten over the possessiveness I feel of her.

“You okay?” I ask, sliding my hand back down over her stomach and getting into position behind her.

“I’ll be better when you’re inside me.”

A chuckle falls from my lips as I press kisses down her spine. I’m already naked, still preferring to sleep that way even though it has made for some awkward nights when Mitchell or Emma make their way into our bed after a night of bad dreams. At four and three, the two terrors, as we lovingly refer to them, are quite the handful.

But I don’t care. At just over thirty, we still have several years left to grow our family, and I have no intentions of stopping soon.

Kennedy teases me about growing my own fighting crew, and even though I deny it, I love the fact that both my kids, even at their young ages, enjoy learning self-defense at the gym I took over when Rodney finally retired.

“Patience,” I murmur, pressing into her slowly.

Her head falls forward and I lean over her back, brushing her hair off her shoulders so I can see her.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her, meaning it. So beautiful she makes my heart stop beating some days when I come home from work. Her swollen stomach, her messed up hair, and the tired circles beneath her eyes can never diminish the way I feel about her.

I pump into her, feeling her insides stretch, and she groans. So tight. Warm.

Her walls pulse around my dick and force me to move.

“Grayson,” she moans on a pant as I slide out and back in until I’m balls deep inside of her.

“Feel good?” I ask, teasing her and torturing myself with another slow slide out and in.

“I hate you,” she jokes.

I slam into her, hard. She arches her back, looking at me over her shoulder. All I see is love and need mixing together in her amber eyes.

“You love me,” I grunt, and then I start moving. Leaning forward, I cup her pussy with my hand, my thumb immediately finding her clit. I draw slow circles around her, fleshing out her desire, turning her on while my other hand slides to her breast and rolls her nipple, pinching it and pulling on it until she’s gasping and writhing beneath me.

Exactly how I like her.

My hips thrust against her, pulling out and pulling in, unstopping until I see her hands digging into the sheets beneath her.

“Close,” she gasps, pushing back against me. “Faster.”

I comply, because when it comes to a request from my wife, I’m helpless to say no.

Our room fills with the sounds of our quieted moans and flesh slapping against flesh as I continue rocking into her.

As soon as her legs begin to shake and her walls begin clamping around me, signaling her orgasm is close, my thumb on her clit pushes down, drawing out the climax.

“Grayson!” she shouts, throwing her head back as her orgasm rips her over the edge.

Thrusting my hips faster, heat rolls down my spine and my balls draw up, hardening until I can’t hold off further.

“Holy shit,” I groan. I slam into her a final time as the heat of her flesh against mine and the tightness of her swollen pussy pull my own climax from me. “You are fucking incredible.”

I slide off her, letting her roll to her side, and go get a washcloth to clean us up.

As soon as it’s done, I sit down next to her on the bed and brush her hair out of eyes.