Chapter Twenty

Atlas - 3 weeks

"You know, AJ," Helen said as she took her seat at the table, "you were supposed to keep our Atlas grounded here, not go gallivanting off with him," she teased, shaking her head at the two of us. With our sunburns and jetlag.

We honestly didn't think we were going to be able to make it back in time for Sunday dinner this week. Until we got a picture from Helen and Charlie featuring Samson, whom they'd been spoiling for us while we were away, saying he Really misses Mommy and Daddy.

The guilt had us on the next plane. Still sandy in unmentionable places from one last tryst in the sand outside of our rental bungalow we'd been lavishing in for four days.

We had sunburns in some unmentionable areas too. But no one needed to know about that but us.

"I would apologize," AJ said, still a little dreamy-eyed from the sun, sand, and copious amounts of sex we'd been enjoying until just a few hours before. "But I'm not sorry," she added, getting a laugh from the table.

This wasn't AJ's first Sunday dinner at the Mallick home. But you would think, by the ease and comfort with which she interacted with these people, that she'd been around for years, not just a few weeks.

Maybe it helped that she'd gotten to know my brothers over the weeks that they'd been dropping over at the house to help me on my recovery journey. And, I was sure, the girls night had bonded her with the other women more than she'd even realized at the time.

I mean, they'd broken into a locked room together. That kinda shit bonded people together.

It had been a busy season, this space of time between her attack at work and now.

The holidays alone had taken up so much more time than either of us had anticipated. Her, because she hadn't had family in so long. Me, because I'd never been such an active participant in the season as I was now.

In the past, I would likely fly in on Christmas Eve eve, crash for a few hours, then just drop over to whoever was hosting Christmas Eve or Day dinner.

The kids got gift cards because, quite frankly, I didn't really know enough about their individual interests to shop for them, and definitely didn't have the time or supplies to wrap.

The adults usually got things I'd picked up on my travels for them, shipping them back to the States. Their own presents likely sat in boxes in their basements for weeks or months without them knowing.

It was different this year.

Because not only was I making traditions with AJ, but I was here.

I knew which kids were into what. And when we went to the store, I found myself picking things up for them that I knew they'd like.

Then AJ and I stocked up on wrapping paper and bows and labels, and spent hours getting everything just right.

We'd gone to one Christmas play at a school and one Christmas recital at another school.

We'd gone to a movie night at Kingston's house that was, apparently, a tradition I knew nothing about, everyone wearing PJs, eating pizza, and binging movies that had been picked out the year before.

It was a whole thing.

And as much as it was a lot of fucking work, it was a lot more fucking fun.

Damn if I didn't have AJ to thank for that.

Well, AJ… and falling down a mountain.

That part was pretty integral to, well, everything.

I guess fate sometimes acted in your best interest.

Making you miss your alarm which just so happened to prevent you from ending up in a massive accident on the parkway.

Having you screw up a job interview for a position you really wanted, because you were about to fall face-first into a brand new passion instead.

And, yeah, making you collide with another skier on a dangerous mountain, breaking your body in lots of interesting ways… just so you could go home to reconnect with your family.

And fall in love with the woman you didn't even know you were looking for.

AJ - 8 months

"Well well well, look what the tide washed in," Ella said as I walked through the doors of The Paw Palace for the first time in three weeks. "Looking all tan and happy. I'm so happy for you and not at all jealous," she added with a big smile as I put down the box I was carrying, and accepting the hug she was holding out toward me.

I was actually surprised just how much I missed her. And Tucker. And work in general.

I guess you didn't realize how attached you became to people—and, let's face it, dogs—until you were suddenly away from them for a long period of time.

"So I want to hear all about your travels to all these fun, exotic places. But, first… what's in the box? Is it presents? Because… it better be presents."

"Of course, it's presents," I said, beaming at her as I lowered the box to the floor, then reached inside to set three tropical-themed gift bags on the top of the desk. "One for you. And one for each of your girls."

It wasn't actually one for any of them. Each bag was stuffed to the brim.

I learned a lot of things about myself on vacation with Atlas.

One, while I was a girl born in a landlocked state, I was a woman meant for the beach.

Two, I was a lot braver than I ever realized. Because in just short of three weeks, I'd crossed a lot of firsts off of my bucket list. Paddle boarding, parasailing, scuba diving, and several failed attempts at surfing.

And, three, I was like a kid in a candy store with a fist full of cash when you put me in a foreign country, then let me wander one of the local markets.

I sure hoped all the Rivers and Mallicks enjoyed gifts. Because I'd bought so much stuff that we'd needed to ship most of it home ahead of us.

"Awww," Ella said, face lighting up at remembering her girls. As if they weren't practically my nieces at this point. "They're going to be so happy. The little one has had a rough go of it this week. She could use the pick-me-up. So, how was it? And by it, I mean the loads of beachy vacation sex."

A laugh escaped me at that.

"It was… perfect," I admitted. "You would think with all the classes Atlas wanted to take that we wouldn't have time for anything else, but we squeezed so much into it. I mean, I don't think I've slept more than four hours a night in three weeks, which I'm sure is going to catch up to me. But it was so worth it."

"I love this for you," she said, beaming at me. "You so deserve it."

Several months back, when the girls had to go see their father for the weekend—because he had a new girlfriend he wanted to show off, which no one was excited about but him—I'd taken Ella out to distract her.

It ended up coming out.

All of it with her ex. And my own.

And while we'd always been good work-friends, from that night on, we'd become best friends.

"You guys should plan something. It's not too late. Before school starts up again. Even just to take a trip down to Cape May or something for the weekend. I'm sure Tucker would be happy to drive the van down, so it's extra fun."

The two of them had started to spend more time together. I wouldn't quite say they were an item yet, but they were getting closer every day.

I think Ella was cautious because of her ex. And the girls. Though, the girls adored Tuck, so I think that was just her overprotective mama instincts than anything.

And Tuck, well, he wanted to go at her pace.

But they were spending a lot of time together. Going to movies with the girls. Out to eat. Tuck took them all camping at the beginning of the summer.

It was sweet, watching their friendship slowly morph into something infinitely more.

I knew I was all wrapped up in my own haze of love, so I wanted everyone else to be in love too. But these guys were meant to be together, I swear.

"She was just wondering if you'd bring her something back," Tuck said, coming in from the back room with a wet spot on his leg that was probably from slobber.

"Not just her and the girls. You too," I said, reaching for his bag, and holding it out to him. "I tried to be conscious of your limited space," I said. "And got you all sustainable stuff. I'm super excited to be back here tomorrow, so we can catch up, but I have about fifty gift bags to drop off still," I told them, giving them a hug at the same time, then rushing back out of the building.

By the time I made it back home, it was nearly dark, and Samson was waiting at the door for me, all wiggles and big, sloppy kisses.

Then there was Atlas.

Perched on the couch, a laptop on his thighs, more still than I'd seen him in a month.

I had to say, I never could have anticipated just how sexy it would be to watch this man in action, in his element, but, yeah, Ella wasn't wrong about all the vacation sex.

I barely let him finish his lessons before I was grabbing him and dragging him back to our rental to have sex until our bodies were too tired to move anymore.

I never understood the concept of a man built for action before. But Atlas was definitely that. It had been amazing to see the transformation of Atlas from being chair-bound for a while with his injuries, to seeing him pop himself up on a surfboard in one smooth, effortless motion, then ride a wave, his muscles flexing and his body moving with nature.

Sure, my own attempts were hilariously pathetic. But Atlas had been a patient, albeit sometimes teasing, teacher, who declared that surfing was simply not going to be my forte.

"Come on, noodle arms, let's find something else for you to try," he'd said in the end.

"What's got you so captivated?" I asked, his eyes glued to the screen as I kicked out of my shoes, dropped my keys, and made my way toward him.

"Remember how you said I could edit and upload the footage of you trying new things on my channel?" he asked.

"Yeah."

I'd been the cameraman a lot of the time on our vacation, getting as much "B-roll" as possible while Atlas was occupied.

His channel hadn't gone dead because he'd been down for the count. Luckily, he had lots of old footage that he'd uploaded like it was new, keeping things going while he'd been recovering.

But we'd both been conscious of using the opportunity to get more filming done as we left for our trip.

"Well, sweetheart, it seems like people like you a fuckuva lot more than they like me," he said, shooting me a smile as he turned the laptop to face me.

He clicked a button, refreshing the video, then stabbed a finger at the screen, showing me the views.

"Two million?" I asked, eyes going round. "That can't be right." Not that quickly.

"Oh, it is. And the comments are all people saying they're in love with you and that they need to see more of you trying new things."

"No way. I sucked at, like, everything," I said, shaking my head at the thumbnail of the video he'd uploaded. Me lying on the bright yellow surfboard in the sand in my green one-piece, trying—and failing epically—to try to push myself up to stand like I'd seen Atlas do a hundred effortless times.

"I think that's what they like. You're relatable," he said, scrolling down, and showing me all the gushing comments about me.

My confidence had been climbing since moving to Navesink Bank. It definitely got a boost since getting with Atlas.

But I could feel it notching up even more as I read all the lovely comments that complete strangers had to say about me.

She's the sweetest thing ever. Marry her.

Omg, she's like so pretty.

I know she doesn't mean to be hilarious, but I'm cryingggg.

Look at her dimples when she smiles at you (heart eye emoji)

"So, what I'm saying is… it seems like we have some travel plans to make," Atlas said, clicking open a new window, and bringing up a search engine. "What do you want to learn next? Skiing? Bungee jumping? Zip lining?"

I never imagined there would be a time in my life where I could not only live as freely as I wanted, but that I could do it out in the open for others to see. Without fear.

Sure, I'd done a lot of the work myself to get to this point.

But Atlas had been right there with me, pushing me, building me up, reassuring me that I was safe and free to do whatever my heart desired.

And my heart desired one thing above all else.

Him.

"Anything," I said, leaning my head into his shoulder. "So long as you're there with me."

Atlas - 12 years

"I'm jealous of an eight-year-old," AJ said, shaking her head as we watched our son on his surfboard.

AJ was tanned and glowing with a belly as round as the beach ball our four-year-old was chasing down the beach.

"Because he can actually lay on his stomach?" I teased, standing beside her. "Or because he didn't inherit his mother's noodle arms?"

"Both," she admitted as we both watched our son pop up in one smooth, graceful motion, standing on his board, and leaning his body back and forth like he was actually catching a wave.

He looked like, well, both of us.

He was tall and lean with more muscles than you'd expect on a child, thanks to the very active lifestyle he'd been raised in. He had dark hair and eyes, but a set of dimples just like his mother.

Those fucking things let the kid get away with a lot more than he should.

And, I imagined, in fifteen years or so, they would get him all the girls his heart desired.

He was a lot like I'd been at his age. Daring, reckless, never afraid of a challenge. But he had more roots than I had, thanks to his mother, who had been very dedicated to creating a home base for all of us, so that no matter how much we traveled and explored, we had a place to come back to, to settle in to.

Turning, I saw our four-year-old grab the beach ball and start running back toward us.

He was still round-faced and muscle-free. But with how much he liked to follow around his big brother, I had no doubt that he would be learning to surf and skate and bike like nobody's business once his limbs lengthened out a bit.

"So what do you think?" I asked, reaching over to rest a hand on AJ's belly. "Does Mark finally get to win a bet, or what?" I asked, feeling the baby kick restlessly against her stomach. Like it was ready to get out and get moving. We were a week past her due date. So it probably was.

"I think Mark's losing streak is going to continue," she said, pressing her hand over mine. "I'm pretty sure it's another boy."

We figured when we'd started this whole parenting journey—thanks mostly to a drunken night trying to warm each other up in a ski lodge in Colorado where we'd stopped using protection—that, given my own family dynamics, we were likely to have a bunch of boys.

We didn't care what we had. We just wanted them healthy and happy.

We'd spaced them out. Each four years apart. It gave us time to bond, and figure out how to navigate traveling with extra passengers.

It got a little harder with each kid. But we were determined to give our kids the world. As well as a home they wanted to come back to over and over afterward.

A home we'd had to put two additions on so far. We'd considered just selling, but something had always stopped us.

"This house is what brought us together," AJ had said, all teary-eyed with her early pregnancy hormones. "I don't think we should leave it."

So we didn't.

We just blew it out to add a few more bedrooms. Another bathroom. A kitchen big enough for two or more people to actually move around in, a proper dining room, and an extra family/toy room for the kids.

It was there in that house where I'd met AJ. Where I'd slowly fallen in love with her as my body forced me to slow down and learn what ‘home' meant.

We'd built love there.

Then a life there.

And, finally, a family there.

Woof!

An alarmed little bark had both of us turning to see the Golden Retriever mix, Delilah, using her body to push our four-year-old away from something on the beach.

"Probably a jellyfish," I said. "I'll go look. Good girl, Delilah," I said, patting her head.

She was still all long-limbed and gangly, barely a year old, and full of energy and love for the kids.

We still had Samson, though he was kind of a couch potato now in his old age. A little blind, very deaf, very spoiled, and still a part of the family.

We'd gotten Delilah on a whim when there'd been an adoption event at the doggy daycare AJ used to work at.

We hadn't been sure if it was the right time for a new dog, what with Samson old and slow. But the kids had fallen in love with her. And we figured having another dog in the house would be good for all of us.

Her presence seemed to calm Samson, who no longer felt the need to try to look after the kids, or bark at the delivery men, or check the perimeter of the yard. He left all of that up to Delilah now.

"They sting, remember?" I said to my son, pointing toward the jellyfish.

"Like a bee?" he asked, making a buzzing noise. He'd been stung on his foot not long back, and it had become a teachable moment.

"Like a hundred bees all at once," I told him, picking him up, and bringing him over to his brother who'd now abandoned his surfboard to start building something out of the wet sand.

I'd opened my business not far from where we were standing, lucking out when a local business decided to sell and move somewhere they could live on a beach year-round.

It had cost a small fortune. But after the success of our travel vlogs, and some careful investments, we'd been able to swing it.

And now, several years into it, we had something really good going. Sure, it was only income in the summers. But, fuck, was the money good in a beach town where locals and tourists alike flocked to the area to bake on the beach, play in the waves, and learn to engage in some fun water sports along the way.

It allowed us to have a mostly calm, quiet fall and winter where we could all cocoon up, enjoy the holidays, take a winter vacation to somewhere real snowy, since Navesink Bank wasn't exactly known for much accumulation, and make plans for the coming summer.

There was still travel.

And I still enjoyed it.

In fact, since I'd just about seen it all in my day, it was much more fun to show the world to AJ. And then the kids. To watch them experience all the things I'd set out to do when I was younger.

More and more these days, though, I found my comfort at home.

With my kids.

With my wife.

With my siblings and their families.

AJ told me once. About the night I went to track down Joss, and had the girls come and babysit her. About how they'd broken into the storage room and seen all my gear. And how AJ had worried that by falling in love with her, she was shrinking my world, that she was taking things away from me.

And how my sister had told her that was the wrong way to look at it. That what she was doing, instead, was showing me a different kind of adventure.

I moved behind AJ, wrapping one arm around her belly, and the other over her chest, and stood there watching as our older son buried our younger son in the sand, feeling our third baby—likely another son—kick against my arm.

That was exactly what this was.

My world wasn't shrunken.

If anything, it had expanded to realms I never could have anticipated, ones I wouldn't trade anything in the world for.

Yes, it was an entirely different kind of adventure.

But it was one I was never going to get sick of.

"Ah, Atlas," AJ said, voice a little tight, setting me on edge.

"Yeah?"

"We should get the kids in the car. And then drop them off to Kingston and Savvy," she said, turning to shoot me a little smile. "I think Mark is about to lose that bet. Tonight."

XX