Page 81 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

Side A

Just Like Heaven

Chance

I press the last tack into the corner of the Happy Birthday sign and lean back on the step ladder to admire it.

The banner stretches across the vaulted ceiling in our living room—bright colors, glittery letters.

Ant’s gonna roll his eyes at the glitter and mumble something about vacuuming when he sees it, but I know he secretly loves that shit.

I hop down and dust my hands off, taking a slow turn around the room.

This house… it still amazes me sometimes.

A sprawling, ranch-style home, tucked into a quiet Scottsdale neighborhood.

It’s peaceful, has great schools, friendly neighbors.

It’s a place we’re excited to raise our kids in.

I love the condo, always will, but we needed this space. Two kids will do that.

Watching Ant in this kitchen—the massive gourmet kitchen he basically designed from scratch when we renovated—it’s like seeing him in his true element.

The man practically vibrates when he’s in there.

I’m the nightly beneficiary of it—which means I’ve had to increase my workouts by at least three extra hours a week to keep his dinners off my waistline.

We did keep the condo, though. Deacon stayed there for a while after we bought this place. Murph’s been in town at least once a month now, spending time with his sister, so he uses it when he’s here.

When Ant works too late, I make him crash at the condo. I’d rather he get an extra hour and a half of sleep than drive forty-five minutes each way.

As it is, he barely sleeps. Between the agency and Thrive, he’s stretched thin. Yet, somehow, our family always come first.

He gives so much of himself, mostly for others.

That’s his heart.

His beauty stopped me in my tracks the moment I saw him behind that counter at Devil Records, but that heart —that’s what made me fall in love.

I’m jolted out of my thoughts by the front door swinging open and Guinness skittering across the tile, nails clicking as he scrambles to greet whoever it is. I grin, wipe my glittery hands on my jeans, and head for the door.

I turn the corner and there’s Jen, Lexi, Beau—and in Lexi’s arms, little Sophia, clutching a toy horn.

“There they are!” I say with a grin.

Beau, holding a ridiculous bundle of balloons, grins back. “Hey, neighbor.”

I laugh, grabbing the balloons and tying them to the handle of the giant vase by the door.

When Ant and I mentioned we were house hunting, Lexi basically bulliedus into moving into her neighborhood. Now we’re three doors down. I think she wanted to guarantee our kids grew up like cousins.

Beau pulls me into a hug, then Lexi offers a one-armed side hug with Sophia on her hip.

The baby blows her little horn, and Guinness lets out a single bark like he’s answering her.

Jen steps out from behind Beau, and she’s holding— “Is thatCostClub Potato Salad?” I ask.

Jen grimaces. “What? You gays know I don’t cook.”

I laugh. “You better hide that before he sees it.”

Jen sighs. “Fine, I’ll put it in the car.”

I point at her. “First of all, gross. It’s hot out. Go stash it in the garage fridge.” Jen shrugs and starts walking before I add, “And, uh, put it in the back of the fridge.”

She narrows her eyes at me and grins wickedly.

“What? I love that shit. He can never know, though.”

Jen cackles and sneaks off.

“Is Butters coming?” Beau asks.

“No. Ant said he had to go to Paris for something that couldn’t be missed.”

“Oh man. He’s probably upset. Uncle Butters lives for these kids.” Beau says, nodding toward Sophia.

“I know. We promised to take lots of video.”

I lead Lexi and Beau into the kitchen. Ant looks up from a sea of pots, pans, and serving dishes, apron on, sleeves rolled, in complete control of his kingdom.

He flashes that megawatt smile and pulls off the apron to hug Lexi and Beau. “Sorry, I’m a scattered mess right now. Can I get you guys something to drink?”

Before anyone can answer, there’s a tug on my pant leg. I glance down at a pair of hazel eyes I’d do anything for.

“Daddy, can I have a cupcake?”

I crouch. “Not yet, buddy. Gotta have lunch first.”

Lexi sets Sophia down and bends to hug our son. “Hey, Joey.”

“Hi, Aunt Lexi!”

She sends him and Sophia off to pick a game.

Jen returns, scooping Joey up mid-run for a hug. “Hi, Auntie Jen!” he calls as he wiggles free to join Sophia.

“Now, where’s the birthday girl?” Lexi asks.

Ant laughs. “Probably changing her dress again.”

I snort. “That is your daughter.”

Ant points between me and Lexi. “No—that child is you two , through and through.”

“Compliment received,” Lexi quips, winking.

Ant shouts, “Mary, honey, can you come here?”

Hearing her name— Ma’s name —used for our daughter will never stop hitting me square in the chest.

When we went with Lexi to find out the gender of the little bundle she was carrying for us, I asked Ant if we should make a list of names. Ant shook his head, laid his hand on Lexi’s belly and said, “Mary.” I broke down on the spot.

Mary comes skipping in—sure enough, new dress—and launches into Lexi’s arms. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Lexi says, spinning her.

“I love you, Aunt Lexi.”

“I love you too. Always,” Lexi tells her, and sets her back down.

Mary runs over to Ant and lifts her arms to be picked up. He doesn’t resist. He never can.

My husband scoops Mary up and balances her on his hip. “Happy birthday, my special girl,” he whispers, and rubs his nose against hers.

She giggles. “Daddy, you already said happy birthday to me.”

Ant smiles, “Well, I’m probably going to say it hmm,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “one hundred thousand million times more.”

Mary rolls her eyes, then says “Daddy?”

“Yes, Mary?”

“Show me, show me, um, show me how you do that trick,” she demands.

“Which trick?”

“The one that makes me laugh,” she says.

Ant makes her wait a second, then tickles her into a giggling fit. She throws her arms around his neck and says, “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you too, my beautiful baby girl. So much.”

Ant and I exchange a soft look, then he sets her down. “Why don’t you go play with your brother and Sofia and Uncle Beau. Lunch will be ready in a little bit.”

Mary nods her little head and runs off again.

Mary and Joey have been healing for both of us, but especially Ant. To be able to provide the protection and love missing from his childhood—it’s given him a front row seat to what a loving home looks like. He gets to grow up all over again through the eyes of our children.

Jen points at Ant. “Don’t start crying, Pacini. You got my womb—you don’t get my tears.”

Lexi winks. “I’ll cry with you, Anthony.”

Jen sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I’m still disappointed we couldn’t do this the old-fashioned way.” She waggles her brows at Ant.

I growl. Jen laughs. “Too easy.”

Ant snickers.

“On that note, I’m going to go check on Sophia and Joey.” Beau says, shaking his head.

“Babe, grab the bottles from the bar fridge?” Ant calls from the stove.

I fetch the wine, then hand Jen, Lexi and Ant glasses.

I look at the three people who helped build this life—my husband, and the two women who gave us the greatest gift.

I raise my glass. “To rewriting our history.”

Hours later—after an Italian feast, cupcakes, gifts that were unwrapped and tossed aside—the house is finally quiet. The party was a wild success—bounce house, games, lots of laughter. Ant caught me smirking at the bounce house all day, thinking about that bittersweet day.

Now the sun and the kids are down, the house is dim, and I’m putting Mary’s birthday cards on the mantle.

Ant walks up behind me, hands me an envelope. “One more.”

It’s postmarked Hawaii. I slide out the card. It’s a beach photo with two people waving.

Happy Birthday Mary is written in the sand.

I huff a laugh. Frank and Kathy. Frank in his usual Hawaiian shirt. Kathyfullydecked out.

I shake my head and set the card on the mantle.

We’re lucky—Ant and me. We’re surrounded by good people. It means more when you’ve lost most of your family. Either to loss or by choice.

My father is hopefully somewhere that’s very hot; and Ant has warned me repeatedly that his parents were never to come near Mary or Joey, no matter what happened to him.

Our only regret is that they will not get to grow up with Ma in their life. She would have spoiled them rotten and showered them with so much love.

But we’re fortunate because our kids will know the love of the people that have earned a place in their lives. Our chosen family.

Frank and Kathy insisted we come stay with them in Hawaii at least twice a year, and they come visit often to spend time with their surrogate grandchildren.

They’ve provided Mary and Joey with the grandparents they otherwise would not have had the joy of experiencing.

Grateful does not begin to cover what that means to us.

I look at the photos sitting on our mantle: Jen with me in a headlock at Devil Records, Ant and Butters after a game, all of us at Lexi and Beau’s wedding. Guinness with the kids. The sunset photo from our wedding where I’m holding Ant’s face and kissing him tenderly.

Fuck, I love that man.

Then there's the framed photo of Ma that Ant had inscribed with one word: 'Grandma'. He angled it next to a framed photo of Mary and Joey—so she could look at their angelic faces.

He said he’s going to have the kids do a photo together every year to update the framed one… so Ma could watch her grand babies grow up.

There are so many reasons I married Anthony Pacini, but his heart will always and forever top that list.

My fingers trace down below the mantle to the shelves of vinyl records below it. I flip through until I find what I’m looking for.

Bingo!

“Hey, Ant,” I call as he’s coming out of the kitchen.

He looks over and I hold up George Michael’s“I Want Your Sex.”

Ant’s eyes blaze and he stalks toward me.

He grabs my hand. “Let’s go.”

I laugh as he drags me down the hall, flipping off the light.