I smile at Mase, holding Valentina.
I thought she’d be overwhelmed by the craziness of our big, loud family, but once she warmed up, she was the star of the show, and she’s taken an extra special liking to Mason.
“Will you ever have kids, you think?” I ask.
“Who knows. Maybe if I meet the right girl.”
“Do you know, I have you to thank for all this?” I glance up at my big brother. “Even if it pains me to tell you, you’re right.”
“How do you figure?”
“You promised me that camp would change everything. That it would be the best summer of my life.” I smile at my daughter. My daughter. “You were right. It did change everything, and now I have the best life anyone could imagine because of it.”
Seven Years Later
Camp Horizon
Nate
“Little shit,” Harrison mumbles under his breath at his son, who runs off to God knows where, already king of the camp.
“I love that kid,” I say, and Leo nods, agreeing with a wide smile on his face.
Harrison Jr., a.k.a. Harry, is naughty times one hundred.
“He’s going to put me into an early grave.”
I roll my neck, and Leo frowns in concern.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Tweaked it on the boat last weekend. I need to go to acupuncture or something.”
“You need a more age-appropriate hobby. Racing isn’t it anymore,” Harrison mutters.
“Fuck off.” I make a muscle. “I’m more fit than ever before.”
About five years ago, my friend and teammate Elliot from college asked me to join their rec team again, and I couldn’t turn down the offer.
Getting back into sailing was exactly what I needed now that my life was settled with my girls.
Speaking of…my angel Valentina walks over, holding her little cousin Colette’s hand, waving with her other as she gets closer. Harrison and Jules’s four-year-old daughter is obsessed with Valentina.
Who wouldn’t be? She’s perfect.
My gorgeous goddess is not far behind, holding Harrison’s youngest, Vivienne, in one arm and our youngest, Paloma, in her other.
Juliette is in Paris with Claud, getting her settled at her big, fancy Parisian dance camp, and it just so happens to overlap with the grand reopening of Camp Horizon.
Seb is also missing; he had to be in London.
“Dad.” Marisol stomps over to me. “I’m almost eight. Can’t you just let me stay?” She crosses her arms, trying her hardest to scowl.
We have three daughters now, Valentina, Marisol, and Paloma, all adopted from Spain, and, of course, one furdaughter, Skye, who is getting up there in age.
We can’t think about what’s coming soon; it will devastate the whole family.
“Rules are rules.”
