Love Me: Oakville Series:Book 5 (2 page)

“Then why were we all frozen out? We aren’t the ones getting married,” Angel snaps, and we all laugh at him pouting like a five-year-old who can’t have ice cream before dinner.

“Ah, did you have to take care of yourself last night?” Paul teases, and Angel flips him off. We all take another shot and sit in silence for a few minutes.

“We are really happy for you, man. You found an amazing woman to spend your life with. Thank you for letting us be a part of it,” Kyle says. Paul pours another round and we all raise our glasses for a toast before Angel cuts in.

“And thank you for shelling out all the green so we could have an amazing free vacation.” I shake my head and laugh. Paul looks at his watch and stands.

“It’s show time,” he says, holding out his hand to pull me up from my chair. I smile knowing in a few minutes that woman will be mine. My stomach flip-flops with excitement.

Standing here with my best friends—my
brothers
—right beside me, the beach behind us as the sun slowly sets, and a large arch decorated with white and purple fragrant flowers over us, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. When the music starts, my throat tightens, but not from nerves—I’m anxious to see her. I watch as the bridesmaids start down the aisle in their lavender silk sundresses. The
Wedding March
plays and my knees weaken at the sight of the stunning woman walking toward me—the woman who’s going to be mine for the rest of my life.

S
itting at the dining room table, I scribble lyrics into my notebook. Even though our band mostly plays cover songs, we do occasionally play originals. The majority of the songs I write never see the light of day. They’re personal to me. Writing music is my form of therapy. It allows me to get whatever is on my mind out. It’s easy for me to get lost in my writing for hours at a time.

Music was my escape growing up. My parents were always too busy for me. My dad was always working and my mom was too involved in her charities and country club friends. Both my parents grew up in wealthy families with nannies, maids, and butlers. Neither had warm, caring parents, and unfortunately, the apples didn’t fall far from the trees. One good thing they did for me was get me involved with music when I was young. As a child, I learned to play piano and violin. In my teens, I learned to play guitar and drums. I was always either playing, singing, or writing music. For me, it replaced all the things I was missing from my parents.

When I got older, I knew I wanted something different from my life. After I graduated high school, they wanted me to go to college. When I told them I was moving to L.A. to pursue a career in music, they told me if I took that path it would be on my own and I might as well be dead to them. The money and status never appealed to me anyway. I bought a bus ticket to L.A. and never looked back. A year or so ago, I received a call from their attorney informing me they were killed when their private plane crashed, and to my surprise, they left me everything.

Chase squeals and I look up to find my beautiful wife, Taryn, chasing him through the living room, saying, “I’m going to get you,” in a monster voice while wiggling her fingers back and forth, the threat of tickling clear. Her black hair sways around her while her green eyes shine, looking more beautiful than ever.

I remember all the guys in the band giving me shit when I said we were getting married. They thought settling down with one woman was the most fucked up thing they had ever heard, so after watching them run from their pasts for years, it was a relief when they stopped. It took them all a while before they found out what I already knew: being married to the woman you love more than anything isn’t a death sentence, there’s no ball and chain. They all finally found that one woman who made the difficult task of facing their demons worthwhile and realized how amazing it was to wake up every day holding her close and feeling like they can do anything as long as she’s there.

Chase throws his head back as Taryn tickles his sides and tackles him to the floor. My son is a spitting image of me, with the same pewter gray eyes and long, thick lashes. He gets his black thick hair from his momma and refuses to wear it in any style other than a mohawk. He’s my little rocker man.

He just turned six and started asking for a little sister. He says he needs to be a big brother and wants a girl ‘cause she won’t want to play with his toys. The kid had us cracking up with his logic. I think all the babies being born lately is giving him the itch. At least that’s what it’s done it for us. Taryn and I have been trying for over five months now with no luck. She’s starting to get frustrated, and I have to admit, I am too. We didn’t even have to think about getting pregnant with Chase. We talked about it, and boom! Within a few weeks—two pink lines.

I hate seeing her like this. She’s worried there’s something wrong with her and it’s beginning to put a tremendous amount of stress on us both. I imagine the stress alone could be what’s hindering us. As much as I’d love to add on to our family, I’d also be happy if it stayed just the three of us. But making her happy is my job, so tomorrow I have to go to the doctor and have my swimmers tested. Yeah, not looking forward to that visit.

“Daddy, why are you smiling at mommy?” Chase questions, their tickle fight forgotten for Legos. Taryn cocks an eyebrow at me as they both wait for my answer.

“I’m smiling at her because she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Don’t ya think?” I tell my son. He smiles and nods his head yes. Closing my notebook, I get up from the table and sit on the floor. I pull Chase onto my lap, then kiss my girl on the cheek. “Now, what are we building?” I ask Chase, looking at what they already started working on. A large pile of Legos sits between them on the floor.

“Let’s build a huge castle,” Chase says excitedly.

After a while of playing, I glance up at the clock and notice it’s getting late. The guys and their wives are coming over for dinner and Taryn elected me grill master for the night. I tickle Chase under his arms just enough to get him giggling and wiggling off me. “I have to go make dinner,” I announce to my son. Once he stops laughing and catches his breath, he gives me a serious look.

“Instead of making food, can you and mommy make me a sister? I’d really like someone to play with,” he says innocently. Neither of us can contain our laughter and I can’t help but think of how much I’d like to take Taryn upstairs and work on making Chase a little sister right this very moment. Taryn gives me a knowing smirk. She knows exactly what I’m thinking because she is too. That’s my girl.

“It’s not that easy, little man, but Cody, Hope, and the new twins, Katie and Kayden, will be here in a little while,” I tell him, hoping that will suffice. Luckily, it does. A wide smile tells me he’s more than happy to have all his “cousins” over. He likes the fact that he’s the oldest of them all. Cody is Kyle and Amber’s two-year-old son, Hope is Paul and Holly’s one-year-old daughter, and Angel and Chelsie are the parents of Katie and Kayden, two-week-old twins. I thought one newborn baby was tough, I couldn’t imagine two at the same time. Angel looks like he hasn’t slept a full night since they were born.

While Taryn begins to help Chase clean up the Legos, explaining the other kids might put them in their mouths, I go out to the back deck and start the grill. It’s a beautiful spring day—blue skies and a cool breeze. We have these get-togethers every weekend and take turns with who hosts it. Last weekend, we were at Kyle and Amber’s. They put in a new swimming pool not too long ago and now Taryn and Chase are begging me for one. Of course I can’t say no to either of them, so looks like we are getting one now. At least Paul and Angel got wrangled into it too, so I’m not the only one.

Taryn pops her head out the French doors. “Are you ready for the steaks?” I nod. She lets out a squeal and I start to rush over to her, worried something’s wrong, until I see a big pair of hands around her waist lifting her off the floor. Laughing, she demands Paul put her down. He finally does and when she calms her laughter, she pokes him in the chest. “You’re lucky you put me down. I didn’t want to kick your ass in front of all your friends,” she says, and quickly heads back into the house.

“I’d like to see ya try,” Paul yells back to her as he walks over and hands me a cold beer. “So, I hear you get to go whack it in a cup tomorrow,” he laughs.

“Shut up, asshole. It’s not funny. I’m only doing it for my wife.” He throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just giving you shit. There’s isn’t one of us who wouldn’t do the same for our wives.”

I don’t know why this whole thing is so embarrassing. I guess maybe it’s because my manhood is questioned if my swimmers aren’t swimming, but if there is a problem with one of us in that department, I’d rather it be me than her. If her plumbing isn’t working, she’ll never be able to forgive herself, even though she wouldn’t have a reason to, and I’d rather her be mad at me. Taryn and Holly come out with trays filled with bacon-wrapped filets, breaking me from my thoughts. Taking the tray from her, I give her a sweet kiss on her soft lips. She flashes her loving smile at me in reward before going back to the kitchen.

“How did a couple pricks like us get so damn lucky?” Paul asks with a grin. That’s a question I ask myself every day. I have a feeling it’s a question I’ll never truly have an answer to.

“I wish I knew, man,” I answer, placing the steaks on the hot grill. My mouth begins to water as soon as I hear them sizzle. The back door opens and Kyle and Angel walk out.

“Please tell me we didn’t walk into some damn vagina fest,” Angel teases. Paul spits his beer all over the deck, unable to control his laughter. “If ya’ll start braiding each other’s hair, I’m fucking outta here.”

“Go get the burgers from Taryn, dickhead,” I tell him while flipping him the bird. Angel blows me a kiss before going into the house.

Before long, we are all gathered around the patio table talking and laughing as we stuff our faces with a delicious spread of food while the kids toddle around the backyard play area, having the time of their lives.

Growing up, if you asked me what I thought made a perfect life, I would have probably said money and fame. But now, looking at my surroundings, my ideas are completely different than they were back then. These people smiling and laughing while knowing we would all do anything to protect one another shows me this is my perfect life. I can honestly say I’m truly and completely happy, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.