Fall With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 4)

JULY

I have a new favorite ice cream flavor.

“Cookies ’n Cold Brew?” Sarah gags, stumbling up the path ahead of me, a scoop of pink bubblegum ice cream hanging on to her waffle cone for dear life. “Who wants coffee-flavored ice cream, Jaxon? That’s gross.”

“People who like coffee, Sarah. Plus, what’s not to like?” I gesture at my triple-scoop cone. “Coffee ice cream, chunks of cookie, and a gooey chocolate ripple.”

Truth be told, the only time I get out for ice cream anymore is with Sarah on our weekly walks. Lennon and I have taken to making ice cream at home to be safe. Every Sunday evening, Mimi sends us a list of ingredients for our grocery shop on Monday. When we get home, she videos in and the three of us make it together. This week, we made roasted banana chocolate chunk, and I swore I saw God at the pearly gates. Lennon was mad at me for a solid three hours, because she said now Mimi knew what I sounded like when I came.

Mimi texted her later that night to apologize for creating such orgasmic recipes, sending Lennon off the deep end all over again. I stood quietly at the kitchen counter, watching her go off while slowly shoveling the best ice cream I’d ever had into my mouth.

“I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

I choke on a cookie chunk, tears gathering in my eyes while I try to swallow it down. “You’re twelve!”

“Not now, you dingus. When I’m eighteen.”

“Oh. Okay. Good. What are you gonna get?”

“I dunno yet. I have some time, but I was thinking … maybe a hockey skate? To remember you by.”

“Remember me? Where you going?”

She sits on the bench, looking up at me with big brown eyes. I take a seat next to her.

“Where are you going, Sarah?”

“West Virginia.”

“West Virginia.” I chuckle, licking my cone. “Good one, Sare.”

She stares up at me, and my stomach does this funny twist. “I’m being adopted, Jaxon. My new family is from West Virginia.”

“Adopted? Sarah . . . that’s incredible.” I wrap my arms around her, and my cone tumbles to the ground. “Goddammit,” I mutter, scooping it up and tossing it in the trash. “Wait. West Virginia? But . . . that’s so far. And . . . this is Canada.”

“My social worker said it’s called intercountry adoption. I’m a little nervous about moving, but mostly I’m excited to have a family. But we won’t be able to go for our ice cream walks anymore, and I’m really sad about that.”

“Hey.” I toss my arm around her shoulders, hugging her to my side. “We can have virtual ice cream dates. And you know what? I’m from West Virginia. It’s pretty there. And my gran still lives there, so who knows? Maybe you’ll be close, and you can visit with her. She makes the best grilled cheese. And then every time I go home to visit Gran, I can visit you too.”

“That would be amazing. Maybe one year, you can come for Christmas. My second parents said I could invite friends to come visit, but I don’t really have any friends other than you.”

“You’re gonna make tons of friends there, Sare, and me and Lennon will come out to visit.”

She smiles at me, and we sit in a silence as she finishes her ice cream. “You know what’s really cool, Jaxon? They were at your hockey game, too, but I didn’t even see them. Or maybe I did, but I didn’t know them then.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. That’s how they heard about the home, when we were on the jumbotron. They’re a little bit older, but they’re really nice. And you know what else? They had a son before. He played hockey, too, like you. Isn’t that cool? But he died when he was twelve.”

I still, my heart skittering to a stop.

“They did their adoption training ten years ago, but every time they thought they were ready to adopt, they got scared. When they showed us on the jumbotron at your game and talked about the home, they thought it was a sign. They came to the home two days later, and I asked if I could do their hair. They let me do their makeup, and paint their nails, and . . .” Sarah’s chin trembles. “I wasn’t too messy for them. I spilled my makeup, and they said it was okay, that it could be cleaned up. And then they helped me, and they never even yelled at me to hurry up.” She looks up at me, and the tears gathered in her eyes restart my heart. “I wasn’t too messy or too slow for them.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I squeeze her hand. “You deserve a family who loves you for who you are, Sarah. One who loves you every step of the way.”

“I think I’d like to have a family like yours,” she says quietly. “You and Adam and Carter and Garrett and Emmett? I want a family that loves me the way you guys love each other. And I have a really good feeling about this. Every time they call, I feel really happy, like when you show up to take me for ice cream.”

My hands quiver, and I curl my fingers into my palms in an effort to stop it, my pulse racing. “Did they tell you what their son’s name was?”

“Bryce. Isn’t that a nice name? He had red hair, like his mom, and big brown eyes. He looked really nice, Jaxon. I bet he would’ve made a good big brother, and an amazing best friend.”

I pull in a deep breath that shudders in my chest, and when I let it go, memories of my best friend dance around us. In this moment, he’s right here with us; I’m sure of it.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I bet he would’ve.”

“Yes, baby. That’s it. That’s the money shot. Work it for me, handsome boy. Work it for Mommy.”

I stand motionless in the patio doorway, watching the scene unfold before me in our backyard.

The scene is Lennon, sprawled out on her stomach in the grass with her camera, AirPods in, and Mittens, spread out on his back in the kiddie lounge chair we bought for him, wearing his mermaid fin and matching triangle bikini top, Lennon’s heart-shaped sunglasses tucked over his eyes. An empty beer bottle is strategically placed to his left, a half-eaten cupcake to his right, and Goldfish crackers are spread out around him.

He stretches, belly out as he rolls left to right, and I scrub a hand over my face as Lennon clicks away on her camera.

“You’re a star. A natural. Yes, lemme see that belly. Gimme fierce kitty. The people want it.” He rolls onto his belly, front paws stretched out, ass in the air. “Yes, Mittens, there it is! You are such a good boy, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You’re Mommy’s best boy!”

I march over to them, disgusted by the sight. “Are you kidding me right now?” I gesture at Mittens when Lennon startles, rolling over to look at me. “He needs a hat, Lennon. It’s a summer photoshoot, the sun is shining, and he’s in a bikini! He’s fair-furred! Make it make sense!”

She grins up at me, wide and saucy. “I know you’re saying something, ’cause I can see your mouth moving, but—” She points to her earbuds before pulling them out, and her phone auto-connects to the sound system in the covered porch.

“—his massive hands cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thick green digits. His bottom cock sinks into my pussy, and his top cock works its way into my ass, inch by delicious, aching inch.”

I tilt my head, leveling her with an unimpressed look. “Really? He has two cocks? And I’m sorry, did she say green digits?”

“He’s a dragon shifter,” she says simply.

“‘I’m going to fill both your holes with my seed, over and over, until it’s spilling out of you and you’re swollen with my child’.”

My brows lift, and I point at Lennon. “Now there’s an idea.”

She rolls her eyes, ending the audiobook and peeling Mittens’s outfit off him. “You wish, fuckboy. I require at least a year of fucking first, and a ring on my finger.” She holds up a hand. “To clarify, because I’m secretly afraid Ryne has supersonic hearing and is about to come running, I want a ring from you.”

My chest puffs, and I prop my fists on my hips, rocking back on my heels. “So you’re saying you wanna marry me.”

“You already know I want to get married.”

“But you’ve never specifically said ‘I want to marry you, Jaxon.’ For all I know you could be talking about anyone.”

Lennon takes Mittens’s face between her hands, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. “Daddy knows Mommy wants to marry him, but he just wants to hear me say the words so he can walk around for the next five to ten weeks reminding me and everyone else that I said it.” Her playful gaze lifts to mine. “I want to marry you, Jaxon.”

I snicker. “Mitts, did you hear that? Mommy wants to marry me.”

Lennon’s eyes narrow as she strokes Mittens’s forehead. “Hey, wanna know something cool and weird that happened today?”

“I love cool and weird.”

“Oh, then you’re gonna love this.” She sets Mittens on the grass and climbs to her feet, swiping through her phone before she hands it to me, showing me an email. From National Geographic. “They received my photo of the Milky Way at twilight over Porteau Cove, and while they don’t usually accept unsolicited submissions, they’re happy I sent it. Apparently, it would be perfect for an issue next spring.”

I scan the email, the request to see more of her work, and the amount they’ve offered her to license the photo. “Holy fuck.”

“Right? For a picture I took just for fun.”

“That’s amazing, honey. Congratulations.” I pass her phone back, kissing her forehead. “That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t told you the weird part yet.”

“Oh?” I fold my lips into my mouth in an effort to stop from outing myself.

“The weird part is I never submitted a photo to them.”

“Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, that is weird. Hm.” My head bobs, and I squint at nothing. “Well, maybe they saw it on your, uh . . . Instagram.”

She pins her arms across her chest, hip jutting, brow arched.

“Oh. Ohhh, wait. I think it’s coming back to me. Yeah, now I remember.” I grip my head and close my eyes, like I have to force the memory. I give her a gritty grin. “I, uh . . . submitted it to them.”

“Jaxon Eugene Riley!”

I spin away from her when she lunges for me, and I dash inside, racing for the staircase. “I have to take a shower! Don’t be mad at me!”

“Why did you do that?” she shouts at me from the bottom of the staircase.

“Because your work is beautiful and you deserve to be in magazines and I want you to quit working with the team!” I slam my mouth shut, pausing at the top of the stairs. My gaze falls to Lennon, staring up at me with wide eyes.

“You don’t want to work with me anymore?” she whispers.

“What? No. No, no, no, no.” Fuck. I jog back down the stairs, taking her face in my hands, brushing my thumb over her sharp cheekbone. “Len, I’d die a happy man spending every day with you. None of the guys get to spend as much time with their wives as I do, and it’ll crush me when we lose that time. But your dream isn’t hockey. It’s stars. Sunsets and meteor showers. Northern Lights and mountains when the sun touches them just right.” I look at the giant canvas hanging in the hall, one of the many shots Lennon got of Mittens lounging in the Stanley Cup. “You also do magical cat photoshoots, and I think that might be something worth exploring,” I add on a whisper, and she chokes out a laugh. “You’re a phenomenal photographer, honey. I just want you to choose something that makes you happy.”

“What if staying on another season is what makes me happy right now?”

“Then stay on another season. I’m going to support you no matter what you choose, but I’m always going to push you to chase your dreams too.”

She turns toward my palm, pressing her lips there. “Thank you, Jaxon.”

I hold out my hand. “Wanna shower with me? The limo’s not coming for two hours.”

She slips her hand into mine, and we walk up the stairs together, past the paint cans in the hall, the boxes in the spare rooms. We moved in three weeks ago, and our only priority was setting up our bedroom; that’s where we’ve spent most of our time since the hockey season came to an end. Lennon went shopping with the girls one day to help Jennie pick out her wedding dress, and I set up her observatory while she was out. She was so excited when she got home, we didn’t leave the room till morning. Slept on the couch, right there beneath the stars.

Our quick shower turns into thirty minutes of loving on her beneath the spray of the water. When we’re done, we lie together on the bed while I tell her about Sarah’s adoption, how somehow in this whole huge world, Bryce’s parents found her, and she found them.

With the tip of her finger, she traces my newest tattoo while she listens. It’s her favorite thing to do when we’re lying here, following the shape of the mountains on my chest, brushing her fingers over the Northern Lights, pressing her lips to every star painted over my heart. There are exactly thirteen, one each for me, Lennon, the guys and girls, and the kids, with plenty of space to add more down the road. And right there at the top, is Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, watching over us.

“We both found our families,” I tell her at the end, and when she presses her lips to mine and curls into my side, everything is right with the world.

An hour later, once we’ve dropped Mittens off at Garrett’s parents’ place for the weekend, we grab our bags and head out onto the front porch to wait for our friends.

“What are you thinkin’ about over there, tidbit?”

“Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, to when we were little. I’d find you, and I’d hug you.” She strokes my cheek, smiling through the pain living in her eyes. “I would have loved you back then, you know. Would’ve done everything in my power to make sure you knew how incredible you were.”

I take her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles as the limo pulls up our driveway. “I know you would’ve.”

She grabs her purse, and I grab our suitcase, heading for the steps.

“Hey.” I catch her elbow, turning her back to me. “I love you, honey. And loving you, being loved by you . . . it’s worth every fucking heartache. I’d do it all over again if it meant I got you in the end.”

All that pain dissipates, her eyes softening. “You’ve got me. In this lifetime and the next.”

“In every lifetime, honey.”

“Let’s fucking go, lovebirds!” Emmett shouts from the sunroof, hat on backward, sunglasses on, shirt buttoned haphazardly. “Vegas, baby!”

“Oh my God,” Lennon murmurs as I open the door for her, and Carter, Adam, and Emmett all topple sideways out of it, piling on top of one another.

Rosie sticks her head out, hand over her little baby belly. “Yeah, they’re drunk already. Don’t ask how. We live five minutes down the road.”

Garrett raises his hand. “I’m not drunk, but I’m so fucking psyched. I’ve never been to Vegas just for fun.”

“Can we go again next summer?” Olivia grumbles, pointing at the belly peeking out of her shorts, bigger than Rosie’s even though she’s due a month later. “You know, when I can drink?”

Carter scrambles to his feet, gripping my arm. “I’m sorry!”

“Well, you can be sorry at home with your five-month-old twins and your two-year-old daughter next summer while the rest of us go to Vegas.”

“I can do it,” he argues, climbing back into the limo after Adam and Emmett wiggle their way through. “I’m Superdad, remember? I’ll be totally fine. It’s you guys I’m worried about. You’ll have no fun without me there. Just be sad, missing me the whole time.” He grins at Cara as he takes a seat beside her. “Hi, Care,” he coos, wrapping his arms around her.

Cara rolls her eyes, popping a new bottle of champagne as I climb in behind Lennon. “I need to catch up.”

Jennie snaps her fingers in Carter’s face. “I need you to sober up. We’re hitting the karaoke bar tonight, and I can’t have you embarrassing me on stage.”

“Yes, Mom.” He claps a hand across his mouth and giggles. Yes, giggles. “Oh my God! Look how cute!”

I follow his gaze to Adam and Emmett, passed out, their heads resting against Olivia’s and Rosie’s shoulders.

Cara shoves a glass of champagne in my hands as the limo pulls out of the driveway, and I tell them the most exciting news they’ll hear today.

“Oh, hey, by the way, guys, no big deal, but Lennon said she wants to marry me.”

In my dream, I’m not hungover when I wake up.

In my dream, the sun doesn’t blaze a hole straight to hell through my eyeballs when I wake up.

In my dream, Lennon’s mouth is on my cock when I wake up.

In real life, I’m so hungover I can’t move without feeling like my brain is slamming against my skull.

In real life, I open my eyes and scream a throaty, barely there scream as the sun streams in through the windows and tries to tear out my corneas.

In real life, Lennon’s mouth is not on my cock, but in my ear, saying my name over and over.

“Jaxon?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you awake?”

“No.”

“Can you wake up for me?”

Yawning, I roll over, trying and failing to pry my eyelids open. “I can do anything for you, honey.”

“What’s that?”

I sigh, dragging a hand down my abdomen, cupping my boner. Rock hard, but then I always am for Lennon in the morning. “Magic Mike, sayin’ good mornin’, honey. Now, come on.” I reach out, capturing what feels like her wrist, dragging her toward me. She’s warm, the same way she always is, and I just wanna cling to her. “Come sit on him.”

“No, not that. That.” She touches my finger, and my eyes flip open at the weird, unfamiliar feeling.

On my hand—on my left fucking hand—is a gold fucking wedding band.

I shoot up in bed, grabbing Lennon’s left hand and pulling it to my nose.

It’s unnecessary. The diamond on that engagement ring is so big, it’s impossible to miss.

Just like the gold wedding band beneath it.

“Jaxon,” Lennon whispers, intoxicating eyes bouncing between mine. She’s quiet, breathless, but there’s an air of excitement in her voice, one that matches the frantic pounding in my chest. “Did we . . . ?”

Thousands of memories rush through my mind. Blurry, drunk memories, laughter and tears and me on one knee. Lennon asking if I was sure, then falling into my arms when all I said was please. Fucking Elvis, a little white chapel, and my friends screaming in our ears. Adam saying I told you so, Garrett collecting too much money, Carter asking the attendant if we could get shirts with the picture of us kissing on it, Emmett and Cara lost in each other on one of the pews, Olivia, Jennie, and Rosie weeping, Gran, too, watching over FaceTime.

Lennon brings a trembling hand to her mouth. “Jaxon, we⁠—”

Our bedroom door bangs open, and Carter strolls through it.

“Hey, newly—” He skids to a stop, covering his eyes as he screeches. “Cover up!”

I look to Lennon, but she’s got the sheet pulled up to her chest. Her eyes shine with amusement, and she aims a pointed look at . . .

Magic Mike. Damn it.

“Oh. Oops.” I toss a pillow over my dick. “Maybe knock before you burst in here!”

“You know I don’t think before I act!” He lowers his hand shield and pulls something blue out from behind his back. “Figured you’d want this, though, now that it’s official.” He grins at Lennon. “The girls had it made for you when they got theirs, even though you told them not to.”

He tosses it onto her lap, winks at us, and shuts the door behind him when he disappears. “I told you all, I give it six months! Six months, and they’ll be married, engaged at the least!” I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive he’s cackling. “That’ll be the last time you all bet against me.”

Lennon holds up the denim jacket, bedazzled to shit, just like the ones the girls wore to the Stanley Cup Final. There’s an embroidered camera stitched on one arm, a honey pot on the other, stars scattered throughout it, and an orange and white cat.

“We got married last night,” she whispers, and I’m already shoving her arms through the jacket, pulling it on her. “Jaxon?”

I scramble off the bed, yanking on her hips until she’s on her hands and knees, her ass in the air and my last name staring up at me.

“Did you hear what I said?”

I grip her hair—we forgot to wrap it, which is just as well; looks like my hands were buried in it all night—and turn her head, capturing her mouth with mine. She opens for me on a sigh, our tongues sliding together, and I dip two fingers into her soaked pussy. She’s always fucking wet and ready for me.

“I heard you,” I murmur against her lips. When I back away, lining the head of my cock up with her slit, her eyes come to mine over her shoulder, dazed, hooded, so damn in love. “You said we got married last night.”

I slam my hips forward, sinking inside her, grinning as she tears the sheets right off the bed, screaming my name, a spectacular, incredible sound that the rest of the hotel guests surely hear.

“Oops.”