Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

Unravel Me: Chapter 41



“And here’s Adam at eight years old, passed out in the pantry.”

“Is he wearing underwear with dog Santas on them?” He definitely is, and it’s the only thing he’s wearing. He’s also halfway toppled out of the pantry, folded onto the bottom shelf, his cheek on the floor, dark curls scattered around him.

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“Those were his Santa Paws underwear,” his mom, Bev, tells me. “They were his favorite. He wore them every day. I had to fight with him to let me wash them. Such a strong-willed boy.”

“And he’s in the pantry because…?”

“He wanted to catch Santa in the act. And he’s wearing only underwear because he wanted to show them to Santa.

Mom .” Adam levels her with a what the fuck look from across the room. “Who actually travels with photo albums to show off?”

“I do.” She flips the page. “Oh, oh my God! Look at him here! He was thirteen and started growing this precious little mustache.”

“Oh my God.” I look at my gangly boyfriend, his shaggy hair in desperate need of a cut, wide grin finished with braces, and about eight strands of facial hair he looks so proud of. When I find Adam’s scowl, he narrows his eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t you dare.”

“You look…” I fold my lips into my mouth, my shoulders shaking with the laugh I keep trying to swallow down. “So cute.”

“I wanna see!” Lily sets down the bracelet she’s working on for Connor and kisses his forehead. “I’ll be right back, okay, Connor? You stay right here.” Then she kisses Bear’s head, and Piglet’s next, and when she gets to Adam’s dad, she just blushes. “You stay, too, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere,” Deacon tells her sincerely, holding up his Rainbow Loom, his wrist already decorated with several colorful elastic bracelets. He’s much better than Adam, who’s still struggling with his first bracelet. “I’m learning so much about making bracelets.”

Lily’s been with us all day, showing up at nine this morning in a beautiful red dress that was waiting for her beneath the Christmas tree at the children’s home this morning. She was crying when she got here, and I was worried she didn’t want to be here with us until she wrapped herself around my legs and thanked me for wanting to spend time with her. She took to Bev immediately, the same as Connor did when we picked her and Deacon up at the airport on our way home from Carter and Olivia’s last night.

She’s been more hesitant with Deacon, but Adam said she’s a little nervous with men, just like Piglet. But both girls have been inching closer to him all morning, and now Piglet’s draped over his lap, paws in the air, and I know she’s enjoying a break from the shelter this Christmas.

“How big was Adam when you adopted him?” Lily asks Bev.

“Adam was five years old when we adopted him.”

Lily’s face lights. “Hey, I’m five! Maybe someone will adopt me, too, like Adam.”

Bev smiles, raking her fingers through Lily’s hair. “The family who finds you is going to be such a lucky family, Lily.”

My throat tightens, and my gaze collides with Adam’s. I haven’t stopped thinking about Lily since I met her, and lately, I’ve been thinking what it might look like to one day open our home up to someone who needs one. Someone who needs some extra love, because we have so much to go around. It’s as scary as it is empowering. When I was in foster care, I tried everything in my power to make myself more adoptable , as if that were ever a real quality. It’s taken me years to come to terms with the fact that there was nothing I could do. It was never up to me. And now, I’m in this incredible position, one where I have the power to change someone’s life for the better.

And yet there’s something inside me that’s scared. Something that keeps me from taking that final step. Something that worries I won’t be the right choice.

I’ve found all these people who are perfect for me, but I’m nervous I won’t be perfect for her .

“Goddammit,” Adam grumbles from the living room. “Lily ! I need help with my bracelet, please!”

“Again?”

“It’s not—I can’t—my fingers are too big!”

“Well then how come your dad can do it?” she yells back, then wraps herself around my middle, hugging me tightly before she skips back to the living room. “You just gotta believe in yourself, Adam. If you say you can’t do it, you never will.” She sits down beside him, and he looks down at her like she’s one of the few reasons he breathes. “Don’t worry. I won’t give up on you.”

“Puzzle pieces,” Bev murmurs beside me.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve always thought people were like puzzle pieces. That we spend our lives searching for someone who’s shaped almost as if they’re just for us. You find each other, and you get this funny, excited feeling in your stomach the closer you get, the more you learn about them. And then, suddenly, something slides into place, this perfect fit, like you had this space saved just for them. And when they squeeze themselves in, it feels like your puzzle is finally complete.”

She smiles, watching her husband and son as they pull out all the toys Connor and Lily opened this morning, pulling out the mini–hockey net, showing the kids how to hold the little sticks.

“I thought Deac and I found all our pieces when we met in college. And then we found Adam, and it’s like a new space opened up just for him. And then I really thought we were done.” She covers my hand with hers, squeezing tenderly. “Looks like we found a few more pieces.”

All I’ve done the past six months is find more pieces, filled my life with so many incredible people. But do I have more space? Do I have room for one more? How will I know? I start with the most logical question.

“Did you always want to adopt?”

“Nope. Never even wanted kids.”

“So how did you wind up with Adam?”

Her soft brown eyes follow Deacon as he covers Connor’s hands on his hockey stick, helping him shoot and score on Adam. “Because Deacon’s heart is every bit as big as Adam’s is. He had too much money and nothing to spend it on. After a few fundraisers with his team, he started volunteering with a few homeless youth programs. Then he started organizing his own fundraisers, trying to find these kids families to love them. Adam came along one day, those big blue eyes and curls for days, shy as could be. Deacon started popping into the home whenever he could. He’d find any excuse to go see that little boy. He said as sad as Adam was, his eyes always lit with so much hope whenever someone sat down with him, paid him any amount of attention.”

I press my hand to my chest, over the heart that aches for a little boy who just wanted someone to love him. As different as our experiences were, we’ve had a lot more in common than I realized. The connection isn’t as settling as I thought it would be; it breaks me knowing he ever felt the same way I did.

Bev chuckles quietly, watching as Lily squeals with laughter as Adam misses her shot, collapsing to his back in defeat. “That boy stole my whole heart, and he did it without even trying. Deacon hosted a low-key event at the park one day, trying to get kids interacting with potential families. Adam didn’t want to talk to anyone but us. He brought a little foam football, told us he’d saved up all his chore money so he could learn to throw it like Deacon did on TV. That was the first time that boy made me cry. The second time was twenty minutes later, after he fell and scraped his knee. I cleaned it up, patched it, and kissed it better. He looked up at me with so much love in those tear-filled eyes, covered my hand with his, and said I’d make the best mama to the luckiest kid in the world. We started the adoption process the next day.” She wipes away her tears as mine roll silently down my cheeks.

“Sometimes you’re not born to your family, not your forever one. Sometimes you are, and tragedy strikes and separates you until you can be together again. And sometimes, despite it all, you find your family. You choose each other every single day, over and over. When you find the people who come into your life and make it whole, you don’t hesitate, Rosie. You grab it before it’s gone, because life without them is no longer living. It’s simply existing.”

“Sorry I’m crying,” I cry, slapping at the tears streaming down my face.

She laughs, pulling me into her embrace. It’s everything Lockwood, warm and bright and so fucking steady, the safest place to be. “I thank your parents every day for setting you on our son’s path that day. For letting us hold onto you. And I thank you, Rosie, for making our family whole.”

It’s wild, isn’t it? How you can spend years searching for love, for acceptance, and right before you accept that it’s not for you, someone sweeps in and showers you in it. It’s like Adam took one look at my heart and said, “This is what you want? Let me give you more.” He didn’t just give me him; he gave me the family I’d been searching for all these years.

A small hand tugs on mine, and troubled brown eyes peer up at me. “Are you okay, Rosie?” Lily asks me. “I saw you crying.”

I crouch down before her, brushing her bangs off her forehead. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”

“Were you thinking about your mommy and daddy in heaven?”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Can I give you something to help you feel better?”

“I’d like that.”

Two tiny, gentle hands cup my cheeks, and I close my eyes as Lily presses featherlight kisses across my nose. “There,” she whispers. “Butterfly kisses.” She turns to leave but pauses, smiling back at me over her shoulder. “I think Connor’s the luckiest kid in the world. He’s got the best mama.”

My heart catches in my throat, a few special kisses and two little sentences from a five-year-old girl that sound identical to the ones a five-year-old Adam said some twenty-one years ago.

Adam joins me at the counter, tucking me into his side as we look out at our Christmas.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

My gaze slides to Lily, and my heart patters against my chest as she helps Connor onto the couch, snuggles up with him and Deacon and Bev and the dogs.

The perfect fit.

Adam’s palm touches my lower back, gliding up my spine, his thumb moving over the nape of my neck. “You know what I was thinking?”

“What?”

“We have five bedrooms, and only two of them are being used.”

My chest rises and falls quickly. “Yeah?”

He looks at Lily, and when she grins at us, he grins too. “Yeah.”

“For fuck’s sake, Marco, I haven’t even left yet!”

I prop my fists on my hips in the doorway of my bedroom. Oh sorry—Marco’s Zen Den. That’s what he’s calling it now. I guess that’s why he’s changing my soft-glow white pot lights out for warm amber bulbs, why there are bamboo branches in a large ceramic vase in the corner, and why he’s currently plugging in a diffuser.

He fans the mist at his face and inhales deeply, then winks at me over his shoulder. “Gotta get rid of all the bad juju.”

“There’s no bad juju! Connor and I don’t have bad juju!”

Okay, so as it turns out, I’m more attached to this little apartment and this tiny bedroom than I realized. It should be simple to pack up and leave today, to officially begin the new year at my new home. And it is. But I underestimated the hold this place has on me.

This was our home. This is where I found out I was pregnant, and the couch in the living room is where Archie held me and assured me I’d be such an amazing mother. This bedroom is where Connor slept when he came home from the hospital, and where I spent that entire night just staring at him, refusing to believe I’d created something so damn perfect . This home is where he smiled for the first time, and these walls heard his laugh before I had to share it with anyone. He learned to crawl, learned to walk, and learned to love right here in this home.

“Oh God. Fuck. Archie ! Help! I made her cry!” Marco rushes to my side, pulling me into his chest. “I was joking about the juju, Ro. You have the best juju. No one does juju like Rosie Wells-slash-soon-to-be-Lockwood. No one .”

“What did you do now?” Archie asks with a heavy sigh, entering the room.

“He didn’t do anything,” I choke out, flapping at my face. “I’m just—” hiccup “—really gonna miss you guys!”

“Aw, Rosie.” Archie embraces me tightly, and Marco piles on top. “You know we’re not going anywhere.”

“You two are the only family I’ve known for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

Archie swipes at the tears falling from my eyes. “We’ll always be family, Ro. And we are so proud of you, and so happy to see you growing your family. You are deserving of everything good you’ve found in this world.”

“You’re two of the best things I’ve found,” I murmur.

“We get that a lot,” Marco whispers, and I snort through my tears.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve got the last of my things loaded into my backpack. One bag is all I have left, because Adam and Archie already took everything over to Adam’s place—our place —yesterday.

“Oh hey.” Archie stops me in the doorway after my fifth good-bye, handing me a folder from the bank. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“A savings account for Connor. I opened it when you found out you were pregnant.” He rubs his neck, lifting a shoulder. “Been putting your half of the rent in there every month for his education.”

My chest cracks wide open, and my heart falls at my feet. I don’t have the words to tell him how much this means to me, so in true fashion of a girl who has too many feelings and has never learned how to properly express all of them, I hurl myself at his chest and weep.

He rubs my back, his breath catching in his throat. “If you don’t get out of here in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna cry, too, and I don’t wanna cry.”

“I love you, Arch. Thank you for being my best friend.”

“I love you, too, Rosie. Now get your ass on home.”

I can’t wait to, but it’s the new year, and I can’t let one of my favorite girls celebrate all on her own, so I stop at Wildheart on the way. The vet tech who got saddled with holiday duty waves at me from the cat den when I walk in.

“Hey, Rosie.” She follows me through to the kennels with one of the ten-week-old kittens from a litter someone found on the side of the highway. “What are you doing here today?”

“Just wanna see Piglet.” I haven’t seen her since we dropped her back off on Christmas Day, and I don’t think I’ve ever gone so long without seeing her. “I’m gonna take her for a quick walk.”

“Piglet? Did nobody tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I grab her leash off the hook, already reaching for her favorite treat in my pocket as I approach her kennel. My feet skid to a stop, and my knees wobble, like they don’t know how to keep me upright anymore. Then I read the sign hanging from Piglet’s kennel, and when my coworker whispers the same words, my heart shatters.

“Piglet’s been adopted.”

It takes me an hour to pull myself together enough to get behind the wheel.

An hour of convincing myself this was everything I wanted for my Piglet. A home. A family who will love her beyond a shadow of a doubt and treat her right. A family that chooses her for the rest of her life.

She deserves this, a forever family. The same as I found mine.

I guess I was just holding out hope that my forever family…well, that it could be hers too.

Ugly sobbing and snorting all kinds of snotty fluids isn’t quite how I pictured driving up to this house for the first time since it’s officially become my home. When Adam watches me from the front porch as I step out of the car, I can tell it’s not how he imagined it either.

It’s a mild day, the dusting of snow we got yesterday melting beneath the bright sun as Connor rides his new bike along the walkway. Adam’s gaze comes my way, and all the worry in his blue eyes steals his excitement as he stands from the front steps.

Connor stops the bike with his feet, climbing off and racing over to me. “Mama!” He hugs my legs tight, his big green helmet smooshed against my thighs. “I lub you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, baby.” The words come out super croaky, and when Adam takes my hand and pulls me into him, a fresh wave of tears falls.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, rocking me side to side. “Did you change your mind? ’Cause you’re not allowed. I’ll lock the doors and won’t let you leave.”

I laugh a snorty, strangled laugh, then cry some more. “I’m fine. I’m totally and completely one hundred percent fine.”

“Uh-huh. You wanna try that again?”

“I-I-I-I went to visit Piglet on my way over and take her for a walk, but she wasn’t there. She-she-she—” I swipe the heel of my palm against my nose. “She got adopted! It’s so good, right? That’s so good. It’s excellent. It’s amazing. She found a-a-a—” A choking sob hurls me forward, and I bury my face in Adam’s chest. “She found a family!”

Adam slips his hand beneath my sweater, his cool palm a heavy weight on my back as it glides up and down, over and over. He doesn’t say anything, just holds me close while I cling to him. Then, he takes my hand and my bag, pulling me toward the front steps.

“C’mon, Connor. Let’s show Mama how we filled our home today.”

I scrub at my raw eyes as Connor dashes to the front door. “What do you mean, filled our home?”

Adam smiles, and even in my borderline hysterical state, I recognize what a beautiful sight it is.

If home is a feeling, I feel it when I see that smile.

When he opens the door, a chorus of barks greets us as Bear leaps forward, showering us in kisses, soothing my sore heart. And then a flash of brown and black fur catches my eye, and I look up as the most beautiful German Shepherd steps forward, happy pink tongue hanging out of her mouth as her gorgeous brown eyes blink up at me. She takes three steps before leaping into the air, whacking Bear right in the face with her butt when she spins, and I drop to my knees as I wrap my arms around her neck and bury my cries in her fur.

Piglet .”

A crocheted pink peony is fixed to her collar, and I take the heart-shaped tag with her name on it between my fingers. On the back is my phone number and a simple message: If I’m lost, please call my mom.

“You did this for her?” I whisper, staring up at Adam through blurry eyes.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t do a damn thing but fall in love with a girl and her dog one day in the forest. And then they brought me that little boy, and together, all of us, we made a family.”

Meow !”

My head whips up at the tiny mewl, just in time to catch a tiny blob of grey fluff that launches itself off Bear’s head and scurries up my shoulder. The kitten nudges my jaw with its little head and then digs its piercing claws into my sweater, hanging down my chest and dropping into my lap.

Adam rubs the nape of his neck. “Oh, and, uh, that’s Dinosaur. We went to visit the cats while we were waiting for Piglet, and I, uh…well, Connor looked up at me with these hopeful eyes, and I…” He sighs, a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “He wanted to name him Dinosaur. I couldn’t say no.”

And then he grins, scooping Connor into his arms, helping me up, and tucking me into his side. He takes my chin in his hand, tipping my face, dropping the sweetest lips to mine as another puzzle piece slowly clicks into place.

“Welcome home, Rosie.”


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