“Aw hell,” he says as he gets choked up. “He’s fucking beautiful, Sloane.”
Sloane grins with a salmon roll in her mouth and swallows before replying.
“Thanks, Dave.”
“No, seriously. This kid is all you, none of these assholes. No paternity test needed. Immaculate conception.”
She laughs as my dad looks down at his grandson.
“What’s his name?” he asks.
“Braxton,” I reply.
My dad arches a brow and whispers to the baby. “Well, you can’t be handsome and have a good name. We all have our strengths.”
Thankfully, no one else can hear him, and I’m not going to call him out on it.
I sit down next to my dad and move the baby’s blanket a little.
“I’m proud of you, son. I know I probably don’t tell you enough. I know I was hard on your ass as a kid, but it’s because I knew how incredible you could be. You’re nothing like him, and I want you to remember that. If you don’t remember anything from me, I want you to remember that. You’re more of a man than he wishes he could ever be. You have a beautiful family, and you’ve made something of yourself. I love you, Ethan,” he says.
I lean into him delicately and look down at my son.
“It’s because I was raised by you,” I tell him, and I mean it completely. Without him, I wouldn’t be where I am today, and I owe him everything.
“I know that’s right,” he says, jostling the baby with a laugh.
“Alright, Dave, stop being a baby hog,” Willow says, coming over to pick Brax up.
“I was only trying to get your attention, Willow,” my dad flirts.
Some things will never change, and I dread the day my dad isn’t here to make an inappropriate joke.
Willow holds her grandson and goes to Sloane’s side.
“Don’t let these moments go, cherish them all,” my father says.
I hold on to that advice for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 49
TWO YEARS LATER
Ethan has Braxton on his hip as he swings him around in the pool.
“Not so fast, he just ate so much watermelon,” Bram says to Ethan who rolls his eyes.
“Need anything?” Bram asks, rubbing my growing stomach in my bathing suit.
“Eli is making the hot dogs and hamburgers right now,” Charlotte says from the seat next to me.
“My daddy makes the best hot dogs,” her oldest daughter, Katie, says with a grin. She has purple flower sunglasses with a matching purple bathing suit. I can’t deny how much I adore her. Maybe it’s because we’re both red heads, or I’m excited about the thought of having my own baby girl in a few months.
We figured we wanted our kids to be similar in age, and with me completely home and Ethan home most of the time, it just made sense.
“Well then, I’ll just have to have a hot dog,” I tell Katie.
“Fantastic choice,” the little girl replies as she takes out three Barbies and sets them along the pool to play with.
