Chapter Eight
Paisley
" A unt Paiswey!" Lyra cries, racing across the yard with her arms thrown out wide as soon as Ridley and I step outside.
I kneel, setting her gift in the grass beside me before scooping her into my arms with a soft cry. "Princess!" I spin her in a circle, kissing all over her face. "Happy birthday!"
"I'm free now!" she says, beaming at me as she holds up four fingers instead of three.
"Yeah, you are." I grin, smoothing down her hair.
Lucy put it in a braid, but it's already a mess.
I'm not really surprised. Little Lexi is the chill all day, every day.
Not Lyra. She has one speed, and it isn't slow and steady.
She crashes through life with zeal all day, every day. "Are you having fun?"
"This is da best day eber!" she declares, squirming in my arms. "Daddy gots a bouncy castle!"
"I see that," I say, laughing quietly as I look around.
Lucy and Oliver's backyard has been turned into a three-year-old's birthday paradise.
Picnic tables are set up beneath canopies to the right, with buffet tables in the middle.
A pile of gifts has grown to ridiculous sizes on a table to the left of it.
Her bouncy castle dominates the center of the yard, with games set up all around it.
Purple and pink balloons and streamers are hanging everywhere.
How the heck they managed to do all of this since yesterday, I don't even know. I feel guilty for skipping out on hanging with Lucy yesterday. She probably needed help, and I just ditched her for Ridley. I'm a terrible friend.
"Unca Widley!" Lyra squeals as if she just noticed him, launching herself from my arms directly into his. She flings her little arms around his neck, squeezing hard. "You camed!" Her gaze falls to the box wrapped in purple paper in his opposite hand. "For me?"
"Of course I came, Sprout. I promised I would, didn't I? And yes, of course it's for you."
"You neber comed a'fore," she says seriously.
"I know." Guilt flickers across his face. "But things are different now, Lyra. I plan to be here a lot more from now on."
"Pwomise?" She holds her pinky out for him.
"Promise," he says, hooking his through hers.
She beams up at him. "No bweaking it. It's da rules."
"I'll never break a promise," he says, his eyes locked on me even though he's talking to her. My heart flutters at the look on his face. He's so damn serious, like he's vowing with his entire soul to follow through.
It's hard not to believe him. He spent most of yesterday apologizing. This morning, too. Every chance he gets, he tells me how sorry he is that he wasn't here. He's trying so damn hard to make it up to me and prove that this time will be different.
He took me out to an early breakfast this morning.
He rented out the whole damn pier at Pismo Beach just so we could enjoy the water together.
While we were sitting there, he slipped a necklace around my neck.
I don't even know when he had time to buy it, but it's so damn beautiful.
The pendant is a tiny shark swimming through a heart covered in diamonds.
"The closest I ever plan to let you get to those sharks," he said with a wink as he clasped it around my neck.
I fell in love with it immediately. And I'm falling more in love with him by the minute.
It's beautiful in a terrifying kind of way.
I feel like he already holds every piece of my heart.
How much more can he possibly claim when he already has it all?
And yet, little by little, he's finding new pieces to make his own.
Somehow, he's putting them back together, too. It's been a long damn time since I felt this alive. But I can't help the little whisper of fear in the back of my mind telling me that this could all end at any minute, just like it did last time.
I want to ignore it…but it isn't wrong.
I'm supposed to leave at the end of the week.
Crudup is waiting for my answer about the position they offered me.
And despite all the interviews I've gone through, no one else has put out an offer yet.
We're going to have to face reality soon—really soon—and reality looks a lot like it's ready to slap me in the face all over again.
I'm not ready to face it. I'm not ready for more hard conversations and heart-wrenching decisions. I just want to be wildly in love and in my little bubble for a little while longer. Is that too much to ask?
Not today, it isn't.
"Bounce wif me?" Lyra asks Ridley.
He glances over at the bouncy castle and then chuckles. "You should talk Uncle Bastian into bouncing with you, Sprout. I bet he'd love that."
I hide a smile behind my hand because Bastian would most definitely not love that.
But he's also a sucker for Lyra. I don't think I've ever seen him tell her no.
Even when what she wants is the absolute worst thing he can imagine, he never tells her no.
It's really sweet, honestly. He acts like a big grump, but underneath, I think he's really a big teddy bear.
"Ohh!" Lyra squirms in Ridley's arms, demanding to be put down.
He stoops, lowering her to the ground. She immediately takes off across the grass like a rocket, shouting for her uncle Bastian to bounce with her.
His eyes immediately lock on Ridley before narrowing, as if he knows exactly who set him up.
Ridley sends him a little wave, smirking.
"You are diabolical," I say, giggling.
He loops an arm around my waist, a shit-eating grin stretched across his handsome face. "So I've been told. But it'll be good for him. Maybe it'll shake that monumental stick out of his ass."
"Ridley!" I bury my face in his shoulder, laughing loudly.
"Fuck, I love that sound," he mutters, pressing his lips to my crown.
I tip my head back, smiling up at him. Yeah, I can definitely stay in my little bubble for a little while longer.
" Y ou look happy." Lucy eyes me across the picnic table an hour later, her expression serious. "Are you happy, P?"
"Yeah," I whisper, watching Ridley dancing with Lyra with a stupid smile on my face. He's so good with her, and it's clear that she adores him. He may not have been around much, but their bond is undeniable. He's a good uncle, even if he feels like he isn't. "I'm happy."
"Really happy?"
"Really happy," I confirm.
"Good." She takes a giant bite of cake, her eyes rolling. "Jesus Christ. This is so frigging good."
"Let me taste."
She snatches her plate off the table with a horrified look on her face, cracking me up in the process. "No way, Paisley Molina. Get your own cake."
"Not even a little bite?" I pout at her.
"Um, definitely not." She takes another giant bite while balancing the plate. "Their old chef left this recipe for Oliver's mom and aunts. I swear to God, the man figured out how to make an orgasm for the mouth."
"Okay, well, now I definitely need a piece of cake," I mutter, peering at what's left of the rapidly vanishing two-tiered princess cake set up next to the presents.
"Here." Oliver drops a piece in front of me. "I brought extra."
"You're my favorite, do you know that?"
"What?" Lucy gasps. "I thought I was your favorite."
"You didn't give me cake. Your man did," I retort, scooping a big bite onto the fork. I pop it into my mouth, moaning as the red velvet melts on my tongue. "Holy shit. That's really fuc…freaking good."
"Told you." Lucy scowls at her husband. "Wait. Did you just give her my extra slice of cake? I thought you loved me."
"More than life, Luce. But you wouldn't share." He drops a kiss on her forehead. "You have to share, baby girl."
"You are not my favorite," she mumbles, earning a playful growl from Oliver before he flattens his hand across her belly.
"How is my baby?"
"Mad that you gave away our extra cake."
Oliver chuckles again, his eyes soft as he stares at his wife. And then he glances at me. "You happy, P?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
I groan loudly. "Is everyone going to ask me that?"
"Probably," Lucy says around another bite, shrugging. "You're basically family. Everyone loves you. And we love Ridley. We just want to know that you guys are good."
"We're good," I promise. "We're figuring it out."
"Does that mean you're staying?" Lucy asks hopefully.
"Um…" I take my time cutting another bite of cake. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it."
"Paisley," she says softly.
"He hasn't asked," I mutter defensively. "And Crudup is waiting for an answer. I can't just not find a job. I have to work."
"What do you mean, he hasn't asked?" Lucy demands.
Oliver narrows his eyes on his brother, which makes me sigh. My happy bubble is shrinking by the minute.
"We just haven't talked about it," I mutter. "We're still figuring things out. It's fine." Except…it's not really fine, is it? I want him to ask. I want him to want me to stay. What if he doesn't?
Am I just setting myself up to repeat the same sad song?
God, I hope not.
"Hey, my babies." Gracie materializes at the end of the table, saving me before Lucy or Oliver can press for more.
"Hi, Ms. Gracie," I murmur, smiling up at her.
"Hi, sweet girl." She bends to press a kiss to my cheek before scurrying around the table to hug Lucy and Oliver. "You look beautiful today, Paisley."
"Thank you."
Her gaze drifts toward Ridley, who is still dancing with Lyra. "Ridley looks good, too. Happy."
"Mom," Oliver says softly.
"What? I'm just saying," she mutters, but the twinkle in her eyes says she knows exactly what's been going on around here. I'm not really surprised. Lyra probably told her that he made me cry.
I swear, Ridley's mom and aunts could run the world if they wanted to do it. They know everything about everyone. It's impressive. And intimidating. No one ever tells them no.
Trevor chuckles behind her, his eyes light with humor as they meet mine. "Let 'em be, Gracie baby. They don't need us meddling."
"He's too much like you, Trevor," she complains, scowling at her husband.
"Maybe, but it worked out just fine for me, now, didn't it? You came back, and I got my head out of my ass. And look at us now. I'm still the luckiest motherfucker on the planet." He hooks an arm around her waist, drawing her away from the table. "Come on. Let's go say hi to everyone."
"Fine," Gracie grumbles. "But only because I want to go say hi."
"Of course, Gracie baby," Trevor murmurs, leading her away from the table with a tiny smile playing about his lips.
I shoot a questioning look at Oliver.
"It's a long story," he says with a sigh.
"Before we were born, some shit happened with Mom's family.
She left for a while, and Dad was too stubborn to go after her.
By the time she came back, she was pregnant with Ridley and had been through hell.
I think my dad still carries a lot of guilt for not going after her. "
"Huh," I murmur, glancing at Trevor and Gracie and then at Ridley. Maybe he and Trevor are a lot alike. But it obviously worked out for the two of them. Maybe it will for us, too.
God, I hope it works out for us.
Why hasn't he asked me to stay?