Page 63 of From the Embers
“Bree, he gags when we kiss.”
“Yeah. That’s what kids do when their parents kiss. Trust me. He’s happy for us. The kitten you promised to get them this weekend doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Okay, fine. I was just trying to avoid the awkwardness. We have enough emotional upheaval for the day without adding to the circus.”
Her face got soft. “How ya holding up?”
I lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I just want it to be over. One way or another.”
“Daddy!” Luna yelled, her feet pounding the wood floor as she raced down the hall.
Madison giggled and then shouted, “Eee-sin!”
I dropped Bree’s hand like a hot potato and slapped on a smile, turning just in time to see them round the counter.
“I want candy,” Luna said, patting her chest.
Madison bounced beside her. “Me too. Me too!”
I closed my hand around the M&M’s and tucked it behind my back. “What? Who said I have candy?”
“Asher.” Madison pouted her lip, and Luna glanced at her before mimicking it.
We’d done the DNA test, a simple home version where I swabbed both my mouth and Luna’s while she slept and then mailed them in. Bree had done the same with Madison. It wasn’t enough just to know if she was mine or not. We needed to know if she was Rob’s. For all I knew, Rob could have been one of many. My trust in Jessica was officially nonexistent.
Though, while I stared at them right then, their bottom lips pushed out, the same dark curls and button nose, there was no denying that they looked like sisters. I’d resigned myself that it wasn’t an if Rob was her father situation anymore. Everything came down to how we handled it.
The results had arrived in an email earlier that morning, but I’d yet to open it. There was something I needed to take care of first.
“Everybody has to eat all their lunch. Then you can have candy.”
“Yay!” they cheered, dancing and hugging.
They were so damn adorable, and Bree and I both laughed.
Three grilled cheeses, a head of broccoli, and a small orchard of fresh apple juice later, Evelyn had arrived and Bree and I were gone for the afternoon. It wasn’t a grand date night, and originally, I’d planned to go alone, but Bree had insisted on coming with me. We grabbed a quick bite to eat at a little Italian place I’d overheard her and Jillian talking about on the phone one night. The food was good, but the mood was all wrong. As many pep talks as I’d given myself over the last week, from knowing that tonight was the night, I was anxious, and sitting still that long made me crazy.
As soon as we arrived at the tattoo studio, my anxiety ebbed as the high of new ink sank in. Bree was cute, roaming around, inspecting all the art on the walls. I didn’t suppose little Mrs. Prim and Proper had ever been inside a studio before. And, if I was being honest, it was a turn-on to pop that cherry for her.
Standing shirtless in front of the mirror, I turned from side to side. “What do you think?”
She slanted her head. “It’s bigger than I was expecting.”
I was too pumped to even make a joke about that one. “That’s kinda what I was going for. I don’t want there to be any question in her mind when she sees this that she is and will always be mine.” I met Bree’s green eyes in the mirror.
“Then I think it’s amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think you needed it for her to know any of that, but judging by that look on your face, it makes you happy. Therefore, it’s perfect.”
While I stared down at the purple stencil on my chest, my body thrummed with pride. It felt perfect too. After days spent working with an artist at my favorite studio, we’d finalized a three-dimensional rendering of a half-moon as seen through a telescope from Earth. The outline traced the curve of my pec, and hours of shading would bring the dips and craters on the moon’s surface to life. The top and the bottom curled into the signature crescent shape, but the center faded into Luna’s name in block letters running horizontal across my heart.
Until then, my ink had been isolated to a colorful sleeve I’d gotten in my twenties, but this one covered almost the entirety of my pectoral. And I fucking loved the idea of having my baby girl there, so close to my heart the way she always would be.
I wanted to get it before we read the results of the DNA test. To mark my body the same way she had marked my soul the day she’d been born. I wanted her to know, genetics aside, I would always be her daddy and no fucking test could ever tell me any different.
