We kiss again and I feel the pain and fear and sorrow of earlier wash away with each pass of his lips.
He moves the tray away and I fall back into bed with him, making sure to shoo the dogs away before we get carried away. I still think it’s weird if they watch.
He lays back and this time I take control. I strip him naked, then let my mouth wash all over him, over every single inch, showing him love and devotion with every press of my lips. The crook of his elbow, his knee, his nipples, the sharp V of his hip bones. I worship every part of him.
Then I give him yet another birthday present.
Six
Lachlan
I know every man with a good woman at his side thinks he’s the luckiest man alive, and maybe he’s right. Maybe every man who has the fortitude to have someone they love beyond all hope and reason at their side, is the luckiest. Bram is lucky to have Nicola. Linden is lucky to have Stephanie. Brigs is lucky to have Natasha. Keir is lucky to have Jessica. All of those strong, amazing women have lifted up their men, healed their wounds, made them dig their heels in deep to a whole new life of love.
But honestly, I still think I’m the luckiest man of all.
Kayla isn’t just a firecracker sex machine. She’s not just deeply sexy, and intelligent to boot. She’s not just hilarious, making me laugh all day long. And it’s not about her heart, her ability to really see people and make them feel good.
She’s all those things and more. She’s my best friend and soulmate, and I really feel that in a profound way. The way her heart connects to mine is nothing short of a miracle, and the way she stands behind me, beside me, in front of me, all to support me every way she can is remarkable.
I can’t imagine my life without her and even through all the awful shit we’ve been through, I know in the depths of my heart that we will be together in the end. It’s not just because we’re married…we’re linked at the soul level, on that hazy, mysterious level that you can’t even quantify.
So yeah, I’m lucky I have her.
But my luck doesn’t also stop there.
I’m lucky I have friends and family, found family or not, that show up when I need them, even if I don’t realize it at the time. That, like Kayla, they’ve also never turned their back on me, never made me feel weak or less than, they’ve just accepted me through every stage of this crazy fucking thing called life.
And even though there’s a part of me that wants to crawl back into bed and sleep for the next week, feeling sorry for myself, sticking my fingers back into that bloody black hole inside me, I know I’ll regret it if I don’t soldier on.
And that’s what I do.
I’m a fighter.
I soldier on.
Every single morning I get out of bed and I thank my lucky stars and I soldier on.
And so that’s what I’m doing today.
The party at our flat starts at seven (early, cuz you know, kids), which gives me just enough time to head out and pick up Kayla’s Valentine’s Day present. I’ve had my eye on it for a few weeks now, just waiting for today when I could finally give it to her. I think she’s going to absolutely love it. Maybe it’s a bit crazy, but still. She deserves it.
So I go out and do that, but it’s when I’m on the way back, the present hidden in my coat, that I need to figure out how to surprise her. I think it will be quite noticeable that I’m smuggling something past her.
Fuck it. Maybe waiting until the end of the party wouldn’t work anyway. After all, this present is between me and her, it doesn’t have to be shared with the world.
When I get back into the flat, I’m taken aback at how well Kayla has decorated the place while I’ve been gone. There are birthday streamers and Valentine’s hearts everywhere. There’s a punchbowl out of non-alcoholic fruit shit, the kind you’d see at a high school dance, as well as bowls of chips and plates of cookies.
Come to think of it, it does feel like a kid’s birthday party. And the closer I look at the decorations, the more I realize it is for a kid. It’s all cartoons and pastels and there’s even a pin the tail on the donkey on the wall.
“Wow,” I say, chuckling to myself as Kayla comes out of the kitchen. “How old am I turning again? The store ran out of normal decorations?”
“Actually,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. “Since you never had a proper birthday party growing up, I figured this could make up for lost time.”
I stare at her, my chest growing warm, heat rushing behind my eyes. “Are you serious?”
She nods. “You like it?”
Bloody hell, I’m melting.
“Damn it love, you better not make me cry again.”
She gives me a sweet smile, then her eyes drop to the front of my coat.
Where my present is wriggling underneath.
“Uh, Lachlan?” she asks, eyes widening as she points at me.
“Oh,” I tell her with a grin. “It’s your Valentine’s Day present.”
I reach into my coat and pull out the little pitbull puppy.
“Oh my god!” she squeals. “It’s Blue! It’s Blue!”
Blue came to the shelter as part of a litter a month ago. Because of our excellent marketing, we were able to give nearly all the puppies homes. Blue was one of the last choices, maybe because she’s the runt, or maybe because she’s darker than the others, like a charcoal blue. I knew she’d be snapped up at some point though, and Kayla had fallen in love with her every time she went. She’d often joke about bringing the puppy home and even though I put my foot
