Cyrus
Chapter fifty-seven
Chili Dogs they need to burn off this energy.”
“You’re the cool uncle who brought all the sugar, man. It’s out of my hands now.”
He feigns hurt. “Now come on, Cyrus, you remember the motto, ‘whatever it takes.’” His reference to doing whatever it takes to get Fallon back and make the kids happy isn’t lost on me. I still can’t help but poke fun at his expense.
“I’m not sure that means what you think it means.”
“Yeah, well. When I said whatever it takes, I meant whatever it takes, so if the kids want one of each candy bar at the gas station, that’s what they get.”
Air whooshes, and water shoots up from the hose connection, soaking our shorts. Jules is standing by the handle, looking pleased with herself. The inflatable is already taking up a large portion of the yard as it fills.
“Guys, there’s a thing called,” she shakes a piece of paper at us, “instructions. You should try it out sometime.”
With that, she takes off across the yard, her high ponytail bouncing from side to side. Jonah slaps his hands over his chest. “Cyrus, I think I’m in love.”
“Pretty sure, you’ve met your match.”
“Oh, she’s the type of woman to base jump off buildings, but hightail it away at the first sign of some emotion,” Jonah quips.
I tip my beer towards him. “Good luck keeping up with her.”
I slap Jonah on the back. “Come on, man, let’s grab you a beer. Amos is grilling, and we need to make sure the big guy doesn’t burn the neighborhood down.”
“Are you playing in the charity baseball tournament this year?” I ask as we come to a stop near the big man.
“You’re not hogging all the glory,” Amos says, glancing at us. “Should we expect a cheering section to be filled with your…” he pauses, squinting, “admirers?”
I give them a long blink because, honestly…what is he talking about?
Jonah slaps Amos on the shoulder, hard enough to make him grunt. “The ladies love watching me work my bat and balls.”
Amos shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.”
The beer goes down the wrong pipe. I don’t know what I did to it, but it has a personal beef with me.
I choke, coughing so violently I double over, one hand braced on my knee while the other grips the bottle.
I’m a moron. My chest burns, eyes watering, and someone—Amos, possibly—starts pounding my back.
Does he think he’s tenderizing the next cut of meat for the grill? Jesus—that was intense.
Laughter erupts around me. Great, I look like a fucking idiot.
“Easy there, Chief,” Jonah added cheerfully. “Didn’t mean to kill you with the truth.” When I’m finally able to suck in a breath, my face is hot, and any shred of dignity fully cremated, I shoot him a glare that promises future consequences. The bastard grins wider. I will get payback for that.
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Cheering sections?” I question. Amos returns his attention to the grilled meat, looking amused.
“I came home every year for the ballgame, I guess, with time, I’ve collected some,” he looks uncomfortable before he continues, “fans.”
“Local moms, divorcees, college kids from the town over.”
“It’s a shitshow and takes away from the reason we’re on the field in the first place,”
Amos declares. Jonah looks pouty. “Jealous Amos?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Cyrus, Amos is a little bitter; he’s not known to knock one out of the park when he’s up. He happens to swing…too soon.” Amos raises a brow in Jonah’s direction.
Fallon and Jules tiptoe from around the house, water guns in hand, both failing to be stealthy.
Fallon, of course, could never go unnoticed- tanned legs, sun-kissed copper hair, her laughter is a melody that has my dick firmly in its grip.
The day she wakes up and realizes how devastatingly beautiful she is… I’m fucking toast.
Liam bursts from the bushes, a tiny tornado, arms flailing with excitement. Jules squeals as they collide, water spraying in every direction. Laughter bursts from them in waves, high and unrestrained. My chest tightens watching.. My family. This is what home is meant to be.
Jules’s braid unravels mid-spray, strands plastered to her neck, clothes clinging to every curve. Jonah’s mouth drops, slack as he watches. I chuck him lightly under the chin with the tip of my beer bottle. “You might want to close that mouth before a fly gets in it,” I mutter.
He swats me, still staring. “I swear that woman’s going to be the death of me.”
“Dude-she’s playing with my kids, not auditioning for a wet T-shirt contest,” I say, voice tight with barely suppressed amusement.
“Possibly,” he mutters, “but might as well be playing with my di-.”
“Don’t finish that sentence; the ladies and kids can hear you,” I warn.
A man walking his dog across the street glances over, and Jonah stiffens, noting how the guy watches Jules.
Muttering a string of curse words under his breath, he storms toward her.
I chuckle, shaking my head, understanding the sentiment.
I try not to burn a hole through Fallon with my gaze. She’s fucking gorgeous.
Fallon crouches behind a bush, aiming her water gun with that impossible grin. Liam squeals beside her, shooting her, and she spins, spraying him right back. The way she moves—fluid, radiant, so fucking perfect—my chest aches.
Then Liam screams, “Momma!” My heart stutters. The women on the porch all turn to take in the sight. Expressions ranging from heart-stopping to positively mushy. They watch with the guys and me.
“Liam! Oh, no, you got me.” Fallon, laughing softly, her voice full of warmth.
She kneels, lifting him so he can hug her around the neck.
My chest tightens even more. This is love, lived out in a single, perfect moment.
What Liam has wished for since he was old enough to understand that some kids didn’t have both parents in their lives.
Fallon has filled that void, healing something in my son, our son.
Sunlight glints off her radiant smile, her wet hair framing that beautiful angelic face, cheeks kissed with the joy of the moment. “Liam—that sounds…right.”
Everything about this little family settles into place. We are meant to be. I step closer without thinking, my hand brushing the small of her back. She glances at me, eyebrow lifted, a smirk tugging at her mouth. That smirk—the one I’ve memorized—sends a shiver straight down my spine.
All at once, she spins Liam around, and he sprays me full in the chest. Cold. Perfectly aimed. I grunt, mock offense, and chase them, laughing, letting my hands graze her waist as we circle the yard. They squeal, spinning out of reach, hair plastered to their faces.
“You’re soaked,” she pants, lowering Liam down; she tries and fails to look annoyed.
“And you’re gorgeous,” I murmur, voice low, almost a growl. Her eyes widen, then narrow with that playful fire I love. She flicks water at me, tiny droplets hitting my cheek, and I lean closer, lips brushing her temple. “You’re lucky we have tiny humans watching,” I whisper.
“Lucky?” she teases, stepping closer until we’re a breath apart. “I think you’re the lucky one, Cyrus.” I can’t stop the grin that’s spreading.
“It’s possible,” I utter, pressing my forehead to hers, letting her sense the heat emanating from me. That has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with wanting her.
Liam squeals again, tugging at Fallon’s shirt. “Mom! Dad! Water fight! Come on, Billy, let’s get them!”
She spins, aiming her water gun at me again. I duck in time for the water to barely splatter me, my hand tracing the curve of her hip as I pass. Pulse pounding in my ears. Every movement, every stolen touch, is electric. She’s laughing, radiant, irresistible.
Finally, she trips slightly over the grass, and I catch her against me. Her back presses against my chest, water dripping between us, hair plastered to her skin. She freezes, breathless, forehead almost touching mine. My hands stay on her waist, holding her steady.
“You’re impossible,” I whisper against her ear.
“So are you,” she breathes, lips twitching in a grin.
I press closer, smelling summer, sunscreen, and her—the heady mix of everything I want. She presses a hand lightly against my chest, teasing, daring me to overstep. I don’t. Not yet. “You’re mine,” I murmur, and I mean it with everything in me.
“And you’re mine,” she whispers back, voice soft, eyes sparkling. I let my forehead rest against hers, letting the warmth between us, the laughter of the kids, the chaos of the day fill me. I brush a wet strand of hair from her face, my thumb grazes her cheek.
“You’re my everything,” I murmur.
“And you’re mine,” she repeats, softly.
Liam squeals again, tugging at Fallon’s arm. She laughs, lifting him up, spinning him. I watch, realizing this is a life worth building together. Messy, chaotic, imperfect…
In this moment, all that matters is her, impossible Fallon, and our family that we’re building together. My heart thunders, with the realization that my entire world is at her fingertips. All she has to do is to reach for it.
Because right now, right here…she is home. Liam is home. Billy is home…I am home.
And I’ve never been more alive.