Page 123

That’s love. And I never knew I had a place in my heart for it, until she came along and filled the void.
I love her enough. Enough to appreciate there’s more. Enough to fight for her even when she’s imperfect. It’s not just a feeling, or something I should do. It’s a decision, a judgment, and promise. One I will give, unconditionally, and finally know the meaning behind it.
Reaching down, I pick her up. She smiles. The kind of smile where you know it’s not forced. She means it. “I love you, Daddy.”
She could have said anything to me, but she said what I needed to hear.
I kiss her cheek. “I love you too, Raptor.”
She giggles that I remembered her nickname she gave herself.
You didn’t think the story would end there in Vegas, did you?
Maybe you did and you’ve stopped reading. But then you’d miss out on the best part. Ready for the happy yet unconventional ending? Here it is.
I hadn’t given much thought to how I’d spend Thanksgiving. I knew I needed to do something special for River to honor her parents, or maybe remember them for her. I didn’t want her forgetting them. She may have chosen Tiller and me as her earth mommy and daddy, as she so sweetly put it, but it didn’t change the fact that Cullen and Ava were her parents.
The day we got back from Vegas, Wednesday before Thanksgiving, my mother called to ask what time I’d be over for dinner. I knew I didn’t want to go. River didn’t want to go. And I couldn’t bring myself to make her go someplace she didn’t want to. She wanted to be at the Sawyer mansion where she felt comfortable.
“About that,” I say to my mother, skirting around the topic and then eventually saying, “We’re having dinner with Tiller and his family.”
And believe it or not, it ended there. My parents didn’t throw a fit when I pointed out that River needs to make new happy memories on the holidays and it’s important to let her have a say in it. Sure, I might be letting her walk all over me and dictate her days, but I like to think I’m doing it within reason.
It’s the morning of Thanksgiving when Scarlet, Roan, Willa, and I are in the kitchen getting the turkey ready.
“How many people are coming?” Scarlet asks, staring at the turkey and then her phone in her other hand. She’s not much of a cook.
“Ten?” Willa guesses, filling up Berlin’s sippy cup of milk and then handing it to her. She’s the only other one up. River, Tiller, Shade, they’re sound asleep upstairs. Ricky’s on the couch snoring. Not sure how, or why he ended up there last night, but he did.
Scarlet sets her phone on the counter. “Roan. . .” She pauses and his blue eyes, not nearly as intimidating as Tiller’s, drift to hers. “Is Ophelia coming by chance?”
Do you notice the way his eyes narrow on hers? What about the way his jaw tenses? We all do.
“College,” he answers, shrugging, as if it’s no big deal.
All of us, well, me and Scarlet stare at one another. Willa’s busy with the baby now. “That sounds bitter, doesn’t it?” Scarlet asks, smiling like she’s delving into Roan’s deepest secrets. “What’s going on with you two?”
“I didn’t touch her!” Tiller says, coming up behind me in only a pair of shorts. He wraps his arms around my waist and brings me flush against his chest. Then he turns me around and pins me against the refrigerator next to Scarlet and Roan. “By the fucking way, woman.” Oh man, that glare. . . what did I do? Wilting under the intensity of his stare, I swallow, trying to wrack my brain for anything I might have done to piss him off last night.
“What?”
Keeping me pinned against the fridge with one hand on my throat, not hard, don’t worry, he’s not beating me, but it’s strangely incredibly sexy and I find myself turned on by it. Until he gives me that psychotic stare I know so well and reaches for Roan. He grabs him by the front of his shirt and pulls him against his side. “When did you kiss this motherfucker?”
I stare wide-eyed from Tiller to Roan, and then Scarlet, who’s now smiling like this is the best day of her life. She’s not looking at us. She’s watching Shade, who’s holding Berlin and rubbing her back after she nailed her head on the coffee table. Ignore them. Swing back to Roan. He’s smiling too, but not because he kissed me, but because Tiller’s pissed off at him. These two will forever be fighting about something.
I swallow, my throat constricting around Tiller’s grasp. He loosens it, eyes intent on mine. Nothing but silence and his eyes tracing my neck to my lips, then looking straight into my eyes searching for the truth. I’ve lost the power to breathe. Almost literally. He looks scary, doesn’t he? It’s not that he’s insane, at least I don’t think it is, but he barely sleeps and that in turn makes him look mean. But then his jaw flexes, the muscles in his arm tightening. My pulse beats steady against his fingertips. “When?”
“The night you fucked her,” Roan taunts, lying, pushing back against him.
I kick at Roan. “Knock it off. Don’t provoke him even more.”
Tiller lets go of me and in a quick movement, he grabs a knife from the counter and shoves it against Roan’s throat. “You better be fuckin’ lying or I’ll slit your throat.”
He’s lying. At least we hope the hell he is, but judging by Roan’s laughter, I’d say he’s only 30 percent serious. It’s when Roan gets pissed off that Tiller’s holding a knife to his throat that it really gets interesting.
Willa grabs the turkey from the counter and moves it. “Not this year, dudes. We’re eating this meat this year.”
“I bet I could get your girl to eat my meat,” Roan provokes, struggling against Tiller’s grip on him.