Strawberry.

Not strawberry blonde.

Just strawberry.

Our daughter had strawberry hair and dark blue eyes, and she'd barged into the world and seized my heart.

A piece of me and a piece of Madie in one small human.

Oh god, I loved her. I loved them both.

Madie had Emery by the waist, stopping her escape attempt into the ocean. She walked her across the beach before sitting down in the sand on a daisy-patterned blanket. Giggles could be heard over the roar of the ocean's waves. They were loud today, the wind fierce. The sun, bright.

When Madie told me she was pregnant on graduation day, I hadn't expected it. It hadn't fit into our plans with me heading to graduate school and her starting her career. But I'd also been oddly ready.

For so long, I wanted nothing more than to feel normal. To have a family in the traditional sense. And it wasn't like I would have needed that to be happy, not as long as I had Madie. But this—them—it felt so right.

Madie was a vibrant mother. I'd known she would be.

We decided to wait to get married until after Emmy was born; we simply weren't in any kind of hurry. I only asked Madie to marry me when we were still young because calling her my girlfriend hadn't seemed enough anymore. It sounded inadequate when mentioning it to people. Because girlfriend implied the potential for temporary, and there was nothing temporary about my feelings for Madeline Lenertz.

Well, Madeline Hawkins. Now she was Madeline Hawkins. Because like hell was I going to give her the same last name as my dad, the same last name as the man who tried to kill her.

We were the Hawkins family now. Bren, Madeline, and Emery Hawkins. Named after a woman who was stronger than she realized and deserved to have her name carried on in memory. A woman who tried to save me, who wanted to continue our family without being a Hadaway. And I wanted to give my mom that. Finally.

I hadn't been able to save her. But I could save myself in her name.

Madie and I married a few days after Emmy's first birthday. It was on a beach. Of course, it was on a beach—a small ceremony with only the most important people and waves crashing in the background. Madie wore a simple gown that clung to her in all the right places, and it was everything that I never even dared to dream of.

Afterward, Emery stayed with Grandma Caroline for the week while I took Madie to Catalina Island. And the things we did on Catalina Island were definitely things that I had dreamed of. And would continue to dream of for a really fucking long time.

Today Madie wore the same bikini that she brought on our honeymoon. It was a lavender-blue color with straps that criss-crossed over her stomach, and I watched as one breast nearly popped out when she reached across the daisy-patterned blanket to grab a book.

She was wearing the bikini she brought on our honeymoon, and I knew exactly what that meant.

If I could cart her back inside our tiny beach house right this minute, I would.

But I couldn't.

That was what Emmy's nap time was for.

Sex—three letters that did very little to describe the intimacy that I had with Madie.

Sure enough, Madie took that moment to smile seductively at me from her spot on the beach blanket. She leaned back into the sand while arching toward me. Her swimsuit was wet, plastered to tanned skin. Strawberry blonde hair flew over her shoulder in the breeze. She bit her lip.

My wife was fucking hot.

"Shit, fuck, ow."

A splatter of grease hit my hand, bringing my attention back to the grill I stood behind.

Right. Food. Focus on the food.

I flipped the burger over, grateful to see that it wasn't completely charred. It wouldn't have been the first time that I'd burnt something because I was too distracted by my family, though. Standing here and watching them honestly never got old. It was my favorite part of every weekend.

Well, one of my favorite parts.

With a few flicks of my spatula, I transferred the cheeseburgers onto a plate to bring inside. And after flashing Madie a tilted smile, I turned around, retreating back into the house.

We'd been able to afford this place on Madie's sheer brilliance alone. After college, it took her some time to find her footing. Her pregnancy hadn't been an easy one, and the job search process hadn't been any easier.

She found jobs. She found a lot of jobs. But they weren't necessarily ones that she loved or even liked.

She trusted the process, though, and now Madie did a whole smattering of things that all made her happy. Not only was she a public relations manager for the California Historical Society, but she also had several clients for whom she was a ghostwriter. And she published a book of poetry that was selling amazingly well. But most importantly, she smiled—a lot.

The beach house was her dream, her creation. I contributed, but minimally—more in manual labor than in dollar amount. I loved my job, but counselors didn't make nearly as much as I would have liked. Because I would have liked to spoil my girls.

Luckily, Beau Martin enjoyed spoiling his goddaughter. And allowed me to occasionally take the credit. That certainly helped.

Our oasis had some chipping paint on the outside and some outdated appliances on the inside, but it was easily our favorite place in the world. Madie knew how to brighten any spot up, both with her smile and with her sense of style and decor. It was a tiny home with a lot of love.

I reached to grab a bag of buns from the kitchen counter when two arms wrapped around my waist, followed by a low, feminine humming noise.

I dropped the buns. They could wait.

"Madeline," I murmured, spinning around to peer down at her. She lifted up onto her toes, pressing her lips against mine. "Where's our child?" I asked, though it was muffled against her kiss. "Leaving a five-year-old alone on the beach isn't exactly—"

"Caroline and River just got here. They're with her," she replied, winding one hand eagerly into my hair as the other hand drifted to the waistband of my swim shorts. "And I want you," she added, as if that wasn't already clear from the way her fingers were inching lower.

"Baby," I groaned. I fucking wanted her too, but it was almost time for lunch.

"I'm ovulating," she said, peering up at me between her lashes.

Alright, screw lunch.

Madie wanted another kid, and god, I wanted to give her everything that she wanted.

I also just wanted to give it to her. Like all the time. That urge hadn't reduced in the slightest in the nine years since I'd met her.

"Fuck, come here," I breathed, bending down to scoop her into my arms.

She eagerly wrapped her arms and legs around me as I brought her toward the small master bedroom in the back of the house. Carefully, I set her down on the bed, and she gazed up at me, taking visibly deep breaths. Her hair fanned out over the bedspread, which was a sea-blue color and made Madie's eyes pop. I ran my own eyes over the rest of her, and shit—

"We don't have all day, Bren," she teased, smiling. "In fact, we should probably hurry it up."

Fuck, right.

I hastily pushed my shorts down, kicking them off, and Madie did the same, wiggling out of her bikini bottoms.

"We don't do quick, Madeline," I pointed out. Watching her undress really made me want to do a whole number of things that we didn't have time for.

"We do today," she replied, breathless.

"Fine," I groaned lowly, stroking myself while I waited for her to get naked. Because at this point, I felt like I might explode. "Turn around and grab the headboard then."

Madie's eyes flared.

But she did as I said.

And it was incredible, just like her.

Life was incredible, and it only continued that way. Because a month later, I found out that Madie was pregnant. And a few more months down the road, I learned that Madie was pregnant with a boy. And then, in nine months, Madie gave me a son—a son with light brown hair and hazel eyes, a smaller version of me named Eliott.

But Eliott would never go through what I did.

Because I spent the rest of my life trying to become the man I always wished my father was. A man who knew how to love unconditionally.

I showed my son how to be the kind of man who would never, ever smother the fire out of a girl like his mother or sister. Or anyone else who might be in his future.

Because we let our girls burn bright.

They burned brighter than us all.

THE END

that's a wrap, my friends.

what did you think?

and check out my quick author's note at the end for some important info.

thank you so much.
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