The crew welcomes them like old pals—fist bumps, back slaps, Xander offering site tours.
As everyone unpacks the picnic—fresh sandwiches on house-baked bread, salads bursting with color, fruit tarts that look like art—I pull Antonio aside near the deck rail.
The ocean roars below, foam licking the shore.
"So... Mitch, huh?" I grin. "Daddy material?"
Antonio laughs, eyes lighting up. "Oh yeah. Stern but sweet. And those arms? Whew."
We gossip like old friends—turns out Mitch's got a thing for creative play.
"Vegetables, man," Antonio whispers, leaning in. "You wouldn't believe the fun. Carrots for... well, you know. Zucchinis as paddles. Even eggplant for stuffing games."
I snort, covering my mouth.
"No way! Olivier tried cucumber once… cool and firm, right?"
We crack up, swapping tips… radishes for nibbling teases, bell peppers as makeshift bowls for lube. It's silly, naughty, but freeing—talking Little life without filters.
"You're glowing," I tell him. "Happy looks good on you."
Antonio nods. "Same to you, Danny. Coast suits you both. I’m just so happy for Olivier. We went through a lot together over the years. To see him refreshed like this. Damn, it’s just perfect to witness."
Everyone settles on the deck for the picnic… blankets spread, sodas cracked, the sea providing the perfect backdrop. Olivier's outdone himself, the turkey clubs with avocado are pure fire, quinoa salad with feta and herbs hit the spot, and those tarts flaky and filled with lemon curd are the bomb as always.
The crew digs in, moans of approval mixing with ocean waves.
Mikey teases Taylor about his "diet" falling apart, Taylor snaps photos for the crew’s Instagram.
It's family—blended, boisterous, andmine.
But midway through, Olivier catches my eye, nodding toward the beach.
"Walk with me?"
I grab Lexi from my bag, tucking him under my arm, and follow him down the steps to the sand. The grains are warm underfoot, waves lapping gently. We stroll to the water's edge, his hand in mine, the horizon endless.
"Look at this," Olivier says, gazing out. "Six months ago, I never quite believed it could be real. But here we are."
"Me neither," I reply, leaning into him. The move—him leaving the city spot to Antonio, starting Lexi's here—has been brilliant.
The business booming already with pre-open buzz, Olivier happier, less stressed.
And me? Settled with the crew, but with my Daddy every night…
Cuddles, stories, playtime. It doesn’t get any better than that.
"Life's good, Daddy,” I say. “Reallygood."
Olivier stops, turning to face me, wind ruffling his hair. "Because of you, boy. You make it all worthwhile." His eyes soften, that Daddy warmth shining through. "I'm so damn happy."
I beam, heart full. "Me too. Everything worked out...perfect."
We stand there, waves tickling our toes, the crew's laughter faint behind us. He pulls me close, lips brushing mine in a soft kiss that deepens, salty and sweet. When we break, grinning like fools, an idea hits…
"Hey!" I shout back to the group. "Touch football on the beach! Construction Boys vs. Daddies!"
The crew erupts again.
