Apparently one of the guys who worked there had kept an old cell phone hidden in his locker to grab that golden opportunity when it had presented itself. Our daughter’s party had given him that opportunity.
The first thing Jack did was have him fired. He then personally interviewed every employee left on staff, had them sign nondisclosure agreements, and used the massive amusement facility for every spawn of Devil’s Lair to have a safe place to play, celebrate, and enjoy. Leila also planned to add a music center.
The Lairs already ran a foundation funded by musicians who wanted music to be taught to the young. That same foundation would now fund a program to give those who couldn’t afford a birthday party for their children a place to do so free of charge.
I was hired to create and maintain the website for that amazing program.
“He should be nervous,” Trey said, continuing to plot. “My retaliations over the years have been legendary.”
The way Trey raised a brow made me nervous. “Please behave.” And the quick frown made me laugh.
“Fine, for you. But I will think of some way to shut him up.” Forgetting his nemesis drummer, he snatched my hand and yanked me up out of the chair. “It’s almost three.” Code for Alivia would be home in twenty minutes. “Are you ready for it, baby?”
Dumb question.
I was always ready for it.
Having a child around all day long meant he needed to come up with a game plan for sex. Every afternoon between rehearsal ending and Alivia getting home, and every night once she was fast asleep, was our time. The timing may have been a bit routine, but he made sure to keep it exciting in the ways, places, and positions we engaged in. His creativity was impressive. He must have bought a book or something.
“Why don’t you check to see if I’m ready for you yourself?” I countered, gave him a flirty wink, and ran out of the den.
He’d catch me.
He always did.
Epilogue
Trey
Three years later
The day was perfect. Blue skies, mild temperature. A perfect day in late May. Perfect for so many reasons. Three years ago, on this very day, Camilla stood outside my apartment building with news that would forever change my life.
Therefore, it wasn’t a coincidence we chose this day to get married.
Married.
Shit, I never thought I’d do that again.
Hell, I never thought my life would be as it was now either.
And I wouldn’t trade a detail of it. Not even all the horrible details from my past. They’d made me the man I was and got me to where I was now.
A father who was about to be a husband.
Me. Trey fucking Taylor.
My eyes drifted over the small gathering of friends and family… correction, friends who were family, since neither I nor Camilla had blood relatives to speak of.
I had asked her to marry me a month earlier. We’d never felt pressured to make that step. There was no need. A piece of paper wouldn’t change what we had. That didn’t mean it wasn’t something I’d thought of often. We’d discussed it enough. I think the only motive Camilla had was because of how badly I wanted to change Alivia’s last name from Deron to Taylor.
Once we decided to do it, Jack and Leila immediately offered the beach house for the celebration.
Leila took care of everything, from the perfect spot on the beach, where we would be exchanging our vows, to the party that would follow up on the decks. Food, drink, music, she even hired the photographer. I was positive it was her way to be sure that I didn’t pull what I had for my first wedding by eloping.
I drew the line at the monkey suit, though. No fucking way. I had never worn one in my life and didn’t plan to now. Black jeans, loafers, and a button-down shirt served its purpose just fine. My friends wore the exact same, and a single white rose pinned to my shirt was the only thing that distinguished me as the groom.
Just as the ceremonial music began to play, Jack laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Here we go, man.”
I turned my head away from the aisle I had been watching and smiled. “I’m ready.” At that moment, a tiny hand got a good hold of my nose and twisted hard. “Ow, dude.” He gave me a toothless grin before doing it again.
My retaliation was to nibble on his chubby cheek.
My son.
Trestan Taylor, born eight months earlier after my relentless campaign to get Camilla pregnant. It took a lot for me to give him my birth name. It was Camilla who convinced me it served to rewrite my history in the most profound way. A fresh start. A fuck-off to all the demons haunting me.
“Twist good and hard, kid,” Hunter piped in, standing next to Jack as Scott and Evan grinned beside him.
“Don’t listen to the man holding the cat,” I said to my son, who wore the same outfit as the rest of us. And then Miss Kitty’s piping in by meowing loudly in Hunter’s arms had us all belly laughing.
“Kaa,” Trestan said, pointing to his sister’s pet.
“That’s right, bud. Cat.” I kissed his cheek while flipping Hunter the finger behind my back.
When my daughter had asked if her precious Miss Kitty could be in the wedding, I’d immediately assigned Hunter to carry that big-ass white feline during the ceremony.
Payback.
There was always a point in time one of us was retaliating for a prank the other played. They worsened whenever we went on tour, especially after Camilla, Alivia, and I had our own tour bus while he had to once again share with Scott. In our defense, we were one unit, never to be separated again, where Scott’s and Hunter’s wives and kids had remained home to keep the structure in their kids’ lives. Made sense that Bert and Ernie should room together.
The battles between us have gone on for close to fifteen years. And I had no doubt he’d get me back somehow for assigning him pussy detail. I didn’t care.
I refocused on the aisle while distractedly bouncing my son as he fiddled with buttons on my shirt.
Leila appeared first in a summery pink dress, holding a single white rose, quickly followed by a very pregnant Debbie, who was wearing the same color in a different style. She and Carson had tried to have a baby for years, and if anyone deserved a family, it was those two. Not only had they been there for my girls all those years I wasn’t, they continued to be the family Camilla and Alivia needed even after I showed up.
There was a pause in the music, and then there were my girls—Alivia looking so grown up in a pink version of Camilla’s simple white dress, holding her mom’s hand, each holding a white rose as well.
They both stared at me and Trestan as their brilliant smiles fueled one of my own. The closer they got, the more my heart pounded in my chest. It wasn’t nerves or regret. It was the anticipation of all that lay ahead for us.
At seeing his mommy, Trestan began calling for her with his gibberish talk and outstretched hands. “Soon, dude,” I whispered while instinctively swaying us.
Mindlessly, I ran my thumb over the thick tattooed band on my ring finger. My wedding band. It wasn’t meant to cover Tara’s name, as she would always be a part of me. It was meant to blanket her within my new life. I had no doubt she saw it all and probably was smiling knowingly.
That man she loved hadn’t died with her. I’d lived, and I’d moved on.