Chapter 39 - Ezra
It’s a family affair… and just for us.
A bowl game is playing on the TV and my penthouse is full of people. The impromptu housewarming party seemed like a good way to usher in New Year’s. It’s been less than forty-eight hours but it already feels more like a home to me simply by having Callie and Wyatt here.
Food and moving boxes cover the kitchen counter when I come to check on the progress. “There. All finished,” Waela says as she lays down her paintbrush. “I’ll put this shield in front of it until it dries since I’m sure the sink will be getting used some more.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” The backsplash of my kitchen sink officially has some personality with little hummingbirds and flowers hand-painted on the pristine tiles. The rooftop terrace has an array of feeders for the real birds now, too.
“It was no trouble. I like painting them. I love how you love my daughter even more.”
“So, you like me better than you did the day we met?”
“Ezra,” she says, shaking her head. “It was your brother I was truly angry with. I’ve learned you’re very different men. You’re going to be the son I never had. Now, let’s go join the others.”
I nod but find myself placing my palms down on the granite, sucking in a deep breath. That fluttering sensation in my chest is familiar but less frequent these days. I’ll be the son she never had.
Unexpectedly, I feel Waela’s hand on my arm, silently turning me. She looks up at me, placing her hand over my heart. “Callie told me about your mama and it’s a damn shame but nothing you did. You know that, right?”
I nod as some of the tightness eases.
“You can talk to me if you like, you know. Other than time, talking is the best healing I’ve ever found for this sort of hurt. Like a large puddle exposed to the sun, it seems to shrink when it’s not left alone in the dark.”
I exhale slowly and thank her, grateful to have her in my life. “Good with analogies, storytelling and a paintbrush. What other talents do you possess, Mrs. Anderson?” She laughs and playfully smacks my arm. “Do you think there are any ribs left?”
“There better be or Charlie’s getting sent back out to the terrace to grill some more.”
Callie’s family and friends are here along with their men, some of the partners from Golden Gate who are slowly becoming my friends as well. Only the newlyweds are missing. I invited Celeste to join us who’s brought a date and some of my team’s personnel including a couple of players who didn’t travel home for the holiday break. It’s a mixed bunch but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My dad is in the corner comparing hockey to football with Charlie who used to play the latter. We’ll call it a friendly debate.
Grace has Callie and Remi cornered, filled with questions about the latter stages of pregnancy. I note her husband is sitting separately playing poker with his sister, Jameson and the Culvers but following every word the women say.
Samuel and Remi’s little daughter was following Bump around but has retreated to her father’s lap for a nap. He’s stroking her silky soft hair with a look of utter adoration on his face. I can’t blame him.
Where did Wyatt go?
Callie catches my eye and I can tell she’s wondering the same thing. I give her a silent signal - stay where you are, I’ll find him - and she gives me a grateful nod.
I find him in his bedroom, looking through the dinosaur trivia book Dad got him for Christmas. “You okay, Bump?”
He nods. “Yeah. Did you know some dinosaurs might have lived to be three hundred years old?”
“I do now. Thirty-one doesn’t seem so old by comparison.” He giggles. “Do you want some more to eat?”
“Not yet. It was getting too people-y out there.”
Laughing, I take a seat beside him. “That’s a good way to put it. Sometimes, I feel that way, too. May I read with you?”
Nodding, he moves the book to my lap, snuggling up close. He covers my hand with his own and I kiss the crown of his head, the thick, springy curls tickling my lips. My chest feels tight again but in a different way. The best way.
∞∞∞
“Do I have to wear this all day?” Wyatt whines, as I turn him toward the mirror. He looks fucking adorable in his suit which matches mine but I’m sure I’d have hated it as a kid, too.
“Not all day but your mother will want lots of pictures, I imagine.”
He groans, forcing me to stifle laughter. “Not that today’s a bad thing,” he quickly adds.
“No, it’s not a bad thing at all.”
Standing behind him, I tie his tie as he watches my progress in the mirror. “I’ve never tied a tie.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.” He’s only five. There are so many things to learn and I look forward to teaching him some of them.
“Who taught you?”
“My father did.”
“Just like you’re teaching me.”
“That’s right,” I say with pride.
“Can we go over my part again, Ezra?”
“Are you nervous?”
He nods. “Lots of people will be watching. What if I mess up?”
I give Wyatt a quick hug before resuming my work with the tie. “Yeah, lots of people but they’re all people who care about you and are excited for the three of us. Nothing you could do would really mess things up. If you get nervous, you touch my hand and I’ll be there to help you, okay?”
Today, I’m marrying his mother and I’m adopting him. Both of them will have a new last name by the end of the day. My name.
My attorney threw his promised tantrum for precisely three seconds when I told him there would be no prenup necessary before I told him to stow it or I’d find a new attorney. Lewis is a wise man and promptly shut his mouth.
Wyatt and I talk over the adoption part of the ceremony again but his eyes widen when we hear a familiar voice down the hallway. “Stay put! It’s bad luck to see the bride on your wedding day before the wedding,” he tells me, hurrying outside and slamming the door closed behind him.
Was it bad luck for me to fuck her in the shower this morning?
Naturally, I won’t ask him that.
It’s a wedding Saturday in April and, six months ago, I never would’ve guessed I’d be standing here today. I’m going to marry the love of my life.
Callie’s still doing amazing at Golden Gate, loving her work and coming up with brilliant new ideas all the time. I’m busy with my own work but I’ll admit, I’m loving being a dad too much to stay late at the office these days. And, when Wyatt asks to come to work with me, he always means at the arena. Can’t blame him for that.
Wyatt thinks he might try soccer over the summer and that’s okay. I want him to enjoy whatever activities he decides to pursue. In the fall, he’ll start kindergarten. Callie’s already told me to expect tears that morning. I don’t think she meant from Wyatt.
The Fog’s regular season ended last night with a win. We’ll go to the playoffs but as a wild card. Most analysts don’t expect us to make it very far. I don’t care. I’m proud of my team and the legacy we’ve just started to build in San Francisco.
A knock at the door brings Wyatt back along with my father and Charlie. My father tugs at his tie. “Will I need to wear this all day?”
Laughing, I tell him there’s a spare jersey in my bag. He prefers comfort over fashion. He’s got that in common with his grandson.
“Almost time, Wyatt,” Charlie says, clapping me on the back.
Hugging Wyatt, I promise I’ll see him soon. “Bring your mama down the aisle to me, okay?”
He nods excitedly before following Charlie out.
Alone with my father, he checks my tie. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and let him. “I had a call from Pennsylvania this morning.”
Pennsylvania is code for Chase these days. He entered a long-term, residential program there in January. “Oh yeah?”
“He’s doing well. Four months of sober living.”
“The program is a year long.”
“Yes. He sends you and Callie his best wishes for today.”
“Okay,” I say, brusquely. I know my father wants to say more and probably wants me to say more. When I think of the little brother who used to climb into my bed at night these days, my heart aches. But, when I think of Callie, I know I need more time. How much time or if that day ever comes, I’ll just have to wait and see.
“Well, that’s enough of that. I’ve seen your bride and, let me tell you, she is stunning. You’re a lucky man.”
The grin I’ve been wearing nonstop all week reappears. “I know.”
“Don’t forget to show her that every day.”
“I won’t.” I wrap a hand around the back of my father’s neck and pull him close so that our foreheads touch. “And, thank you.”
∞∞∞
Far too many hours later, I kick the door to the presidential suite at the Ritz-Carlton closed. “Ezra!”
“Alone at last,” I tell my bride, carrying her past the fancy sitting room with its fireplace and city view where the staff has set up a champagne service with chocolate-covered strawberries and such.
“We may need sustenance later,” she says, eyeing the strawberries.
Okay, she has a point.
Scooping up the champagne bucket with one hand and telling her to grab the silver tray of fruit, I resume my journey… to the bed. My destination is in sight and I’ve waited long enough.
“We literally had sex this morning.”
“But that was when we were still just shacking up.”
“Shacking up?” she repeats before she’s overcome with laughter.
“You’re my wife and I intend to consummate this marriage at once in a space where no little ears might be listening.”
With the adoption ceremony being combined with our wedding – which went off without a single hitch – we’ve agreed to just one night at the hotel before we’ll return home to Wyatt who’s having his grandfather stay with him tonight. We’ll take the time to honeymoon somewhere later, wherever she might like, but our son has had enough changes the past several months. We want to stay close for now, be a true little family together.
After we set the champagne and tray aside, I lower her down gingerly, letting her soft curves and silk dress slide along my suited frame. Cradling her cheek, I admire her beauty before lowering my mouth to hers for a kiss. “I love you, Callie Abara Anderson Sokolov.”
“That’s Mrs. Sokolov to you, Big Bird.”
“I’ll give you something big,” I tease.
She bites at her plump and peachy bottom lip as she begins to loosen my tie. I practically tear my jacket off to help her. When I’m shirtless, her hands glide down my chest and abs, her nails lightly raking me and making me crazy with desire. Together we push my trousers off and I’m standing in my briefs. She strokes the hummingbird on my hip, smiling to herself.
“You are so beautiful in this dress,” I tell her, turning her to face the full-length mirror as my lips brush her throat.
Little goosebumps rise along her arms as I trace the bodice. The fine ivory silk inlaid with pearl beading and silver thread hugs her tightly around the waist and accentuates her perfect tits. I stare at her reflection hungrily. I want to memorize how she looks right now, enveloped in my arms. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to claim. I want to make a mess of her in this dress, too.
I quickly drag a sturdy armchair over and tell her to bend over and hold on. Her cheeks glow that gorgeous fawn color when I drop to my knees behind her. “Watch the mirror.” The rustle of silk and I push her cumbrous skirts up to her hips. Her panties are a thin whisp and… “Black lace panties for your wedding day, Mrs. Sokolov?”
She grins wickedly and nods. My fingers slide under the tiny strap on one side, one sharp tug yanking them down. I groan at the sight of her perfect ass cheeks framed by ivory silk. Her pussy is already glistening with arousal. My dick throbs but we’ll get to that in a bit. Her pleasure comes first.
My large hand spreads across the small of her back, bending her over even more and spreading her open for me. “You keep looking in the mirror, wife. Your husband is about to enjoy his wedding night feast.”
The first swipe of my tongue and she tastes like heaven when I’m blessed with the first glorious moan of the night.