28. Tides of Change #2
Her cheeks are deliciously flushed, lipstick slightly smeared from our heated kisses. My cock twitches, already eager for more despite having just fucked her against the wall.
“Behave,” I murmur against her ear. “If you look at me like that, we’ll never make it back to the party.”
She shivers at my touch, pupils still blown wide with arousal. “You started it.”
“And I’ll finish it later.” I wipe the smeared lipstick from her face with a wink. “I want these beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, but not now.”
The blush deepens across her chest as she smooths her hands over her dress one final time. Anyone looking closely will notice her swollen lips, the slight tremor in her hands, the way she can’t quite meet my eyes without that delicious mix of embarrassment and lingering desire crossing her face.
Perfect .
We rejoin the party in the living room where streamers and balloons transform our usually pristine, photo-ready space into a riot of color. Leo insisted on a superhero theme, so Captain America shields compete with Iron Man masks and Thor’s hammer across decorated tables.
Seb catches my eye as we emerge, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. He raises his glass in a mock toast, and I resist the urge to flip him off. My brother has always been too observant for his own good.
“Finally,” he drawls as we approach. “Thought you two got lost.”
“Needed to discuss something private,” I say blandly, enjoying the way Eve’s flush deepens.
“I’m sure you did.” His gaze flicks between us, amusement clear. “Very thorough discussions, I imagine.”
Before I can respond, a small projectile launches itself at my legs. “Uncle Zeke! Is it cake time yet?”
I catch Leo mid-leap, swinging him up onto my shoulders as he shrieks with delight. At eight, he’s getting almost too big for this, but I’m not ready to stop. Not when his laughter still makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
“What do you think, champ? Have you opened enough presents?”
“YES!” He bounces excitedly, making me grab his legs tighter. “Can we do cake now? Please?”
As if summoned by the magic word, Lydia’s daughters materialize around us, tiny hands grabbing at my pants legs.
“Cake!” Harper chirps, her sister Nora echoing the demand. Even little Elise joins in, though at two her version sounds more like “tate!”
“Alright, alright,” I concede to my small army of cake demanders. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”
Eve takes the cue, heading into the kitchen to prep the cake we picked up. Three tiers of chocolate and vanilla swirl, decorated with his favorite superheroes. Cost a small fortune, but the look on his face when we unveiled it made every penny worth it.
I carry Leo to the designated cake table, his friends trailing behind like eager ducklings. The adults gather too—Seb with his arm casually draped over Olivia’s shoulders, Micah hovering protectively near Naomi, Eli pretending he’s not watching the whole scene with poorly concealed fondness.
Family . The word still feels foreign sometimes, like a language I’m not quite fluent in. Seb and I never had this growing up—no birthday parties, no casual touches, no easy laughter. Just a series of foster homes and the constant knowledge that we only had each other.
Now look at us.
Eve emerges with the cake, eight candles blazing merrily. The flames dance in Leo’s wide eyes as we start singing, slightly off-key but enthusiastic. He’s bursting with excitement by the time we finish, barely waiting for the final “happy birthday” before sucking in a huge breath.
“Make a wish,” Eve reminds him, and my heart clenches at the way he screws his eyes shut in concentration before blowing out every candle in one go.
The kids cheer, the adults clap, and Leo beams like he just won Olympic gold. Eve starts cutting slices while I help distribute them, making sure the birthday boy gets the biggest piece with the most frosting.
“You’re good with them.”
I glance down to find Lydia watching me hand Harper her cake, her expression thoughtful.
“They make it easy,” I deflect, but she shakes her head.
“No, they don’t. Kids are the hardest audience—they see right through bullshit.
But they trust you.” She nods toward where her youngest is smearing frosting across her face.
“Elise usually hides from men she doesn’t know well.
But she reached for you earlier like it was the most natural thing in the world. ”
I don’t know how to respond to that. To the implication that I—with my blood-stained hands and dark past—could be worthy of such innocent trust.
Before I can respond, Leo calls for me to watch him do a trick with his fork. I turn away from Lydia’s knowing look, letting myself be drawn back into the chaos of sugar-high children and chocolate-smeared grins.
The party continues as the afternoon slides into evening. Kids run off their cake-fueled energy while adults gather in small groups, conversation flowing as easily as the wine. I drift between them, soaking in the casual intimacy of it all.
Seb and Olivia argue playfully about something by the couch, her laugh carrying across the room. They both pretend it’s just casual fun between them, but I see the way my brother’s eyes follow her, the softness that creeps into his expression when he thinks no one’s looking.
Naomi has emerged from her shell enough to join Eve and Lydia’s conversation, her smile more genuine than I’ve seen since Micah first brought her to us.
The bruises her husband left have faded, but the wariness in her eyes lingers.
Her ex has vanished and no one knows where he is.
It worries her, but Micah is keeping her safe.
Even Eli seems more relaxed than usual, though he still maintains his position near the gate where he can monitor approaching vehicles. Old habits die hard in our line of work.
I’m retrieving more napkins from the kitchen when Eve finds me. Her arms slip around my waist from behind, chin resting against my shoulder blade.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“For what?”
“This.” She gestures vaguely toward the living room where laughter drifts through the entryway. “All of it. Leo’s never had a birthday like this before.”
I turn in her embrace, studying her upturned face. There’s frosting smudged near her ear, probably from one of the kids’ enthusiastic hugs. Without thinking, I reach out to wipe it away.
“Neither have I,” I admit quietly.
Understanding floods her expression. She knows about my childhood—the foster homes, the hunger, the desperate need to protect Seb when no one else would. Knows how we ended up in Nicolo’s orbit, seeking the family we never had.
“Well,” she rises on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my jaw, “guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”
The simple acceptance in her voice threatens to undo me. I capture her lips in a proper kiss, pouring all my tangled emotions into the connection. She meets me eagerly, hands fisting in my shirt as I back her against the counter.
“Uncle Zeke! Aunt Evie! Come see what I can do.”
We break apart at Leo’s shout, both laughing softly. Eve’s lips are swollen again, her eyes bright full of promise for later.
“Coming, sweetheart,” she calls back, but lingers a moment longer in my arms. “I love you,” she whispers, like it’s still a secret between us. Like each time she says it isn’t a miracle I never expected to have.
“I love you too.” The words come easier now, though they still feel inadequate for everything she means to me. “Even if you did get frosting on my shirt.”
She swats my chest playfully before pulling away. “Your fault for wearing white to a kids’ party.”
We head back to where Leo is attempting to juggle water balloons, much to his friends’ delight. Predictably, this ends with a balloon busting and everyone getting soaked. Good thing I can afford cleaners.
My heart expands when Eve joins in, a shriek of laughter escapes her when Leo lands a direct hit with another balloon. She’s beautiful like this—hair wild, dress clinging to damp skin, joy radiating from every movement.
“You’re staring again,” Seb comments, materializing beside me with two beers. He hands me one, clinking the bottles together. “It’s disgustingly romantic.”
“Shut up.” I accept the beer anyway, taking a long pull. “Like you’re any better with Olivia.”
He splutters mid-sip. “That’s different.”
“Sure it is.” I smirk at his discomfort. “Just casual fun, right? That’s why you keep finding excuses to be wherever she is?”
“I hate you,” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it. We both know I’m right.
We stand in companionable silence, watching the kids play in the spilled water, sliding every which way, devolving into general chaos while the women struggle to clean up the mess. Eli has somehow been dragged in as referee, though he’s failing miserably at maintaining any sort of order.
“Did you ever think we’d have this?” Seb asks suddenly, voice uncharacteristically serious. “After everything … did you think we’d end up here?”
I consider the question, thinking of all the dark paths that led us to this moment. The violence, the pain, the desperate choices we made to survive. “No,” I admit finally. “Never thought we’d make it this far.”
He nods, understanding perfectly. We both carry the scars of our past—visible and invisible. Both know how close we came to ending up dead in an alley or locked in a cell.
“You deserve it, you know.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “The happiness. The family. All of it.”
I start to protest but he cuts me off. “No, listen. You’ve spent your whole life taking care of everyone else—me, the business, now Eve and Leo. Let yourself have this, brother. Let yourself believe you’re worthy of it.”
Am I really so transparent in my doubt? In my constant waiting for it all to be ripped away?
Before I can respond, a clump of icing explodes against my chest, splattering across my shirt. When did food get involved? Leo’s triumphant “Got you!” rings across the room, followed by gasps from the other kids who expect me to be angry.
Instead, I set my beer down with exaggerated care. “Oh, it’s on now.”
The resulting food war leaves everyone covered and breathless with laughter. Even Eli gets into it, his usual stoic expression cracking when Nora manages to nail him right in the face.
By the time we call a ceasefire, the sun is setting, and the kids are showing signs of a sugar crash. Parents begin gathering belongings and herding tired children toward cars.
Leo fights sleep even as he says goodbye to his friends, determined to make the day last as long as possible. He barely makes it through thank you hugs before his eyes start drooping.
“Time for bed, birthday boy,” Eve says softly, smoothing his damp, food covered hair back from his forehead. “But I think you need a bath first.”
“Not tired,” he protests through a massive yawn.
“Course not.” I scoop him up, marveling at how his body instantly curls into mine despite his protests. “But superheroes need rest too, right?”
He mumbles something unintelligible, already mostly asleep against my shoulder. Eve follows us upstairs, gathering his new toys into semi-organized piles.
He’s not awake enough for a full bath, so I had to wash him off as best I could before changing him into pajamas.
We tuck him in together, the sight of his peaceful face stirring something profound in my chest. His hand clutches the stuffed Captain America shield Olivia gave him, dark lashes fanning against cheeks still flushed from play.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” Eve whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
I do the same.
We leave his dinosaur nightlight on, and the door cracked, padding quietly back downstairs where the others are helping clean up. I try to protest, telling them the cleaners will be here in the morning, but Olivia waves me off.
“Let us help,” she insists.
The cleanup goes quickly, though Seb and Olivia seem more interested in flirting than actually being useful. I catch them kissing behind the garage when I take out the trash but decide to save that ammunition for another day.
Finally, the last guests leave, and the house falls quiet. Eve kicks off her shoes with a grateful sigh, stretching like a cat in the evening light.
“Successful party?” I ask, pulling her close.
“Mmm.” She nuzzles into my chest despite my still-damp shirt. “Perfect. Did you see his face when he opened the bike?”
I had. The pure joy in his expression is seared into my memory, along with a thousand other moments from today—his laughter, his hugs, his absolute certainty that he is loved.
“Thank you for this. For everything.” I trace the curve of her cheek, memorizing the way she leans into my touch. “For giving me a family. For making me believe I could have this.”
“Oh, Zeke.” Her eyes go soft with understanding. “You always deserved this. You just needed someone to remind you.”
I kiss her then because I have to, because words aren’t enough to express the depth of what I feel for this woman who crashed into my life and rearranged everything I thought I knew about love.
She responds eagerly, pressing closer despite our wet, dirty clothes. When we break apart, her eyes are dark with familiar heat.
“Take me to bed,” she whispers against my lips. “I believe you promised to finish what you started earlier.”
I growl low in my throat, already hard at the reminder. “Your wish is my command, Mrs. King.”
She laughs as I sweep her into my arms, carrying her toward our bedroom where I plan to spend hours showing her exactly how grateful I am for everything she’s given me.
But even as desire burns through me, I can’t shake the lingering warmth of today—the laughter, the love, the simple joy of belonging. For the first time in my life, I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I’m just … happy.
And maybe, just maybe, I’m finally starting to believe I deserve to be.
Eve wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her upstairs, her mouth hot against my neck. “I love you,” she breathes between kisses. “So much.”
“Love you too,” I manage, already planning all the ways I’m going to worship her tonight. We have hours until morning, until reality intrudes again.
But for now, everything is perfect.
Everything is exactly as it should be.