#riseandshinelittleblossomfic

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Meet the Beaumonts: When Maxwell Married Stephanie

This is yet another installment of the Cordonians Gone Wild AU created by @ao719 @cocomaxley @leelee10898 and @speedyoperarascalparty . Thanks for letting me join in on the fun, chickas!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me.

Tag list: @fullbeaumonty @annekebbphotography @carabeth @stopforamoment @zaffrenotes @editboutique @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @ooo-barff-ooo @tornbetween2loves @choiceslife@ownworldresident @perfectprofessorherokid @wannabemc2 @enmchoices

      Stephanie smoothed the rainbow-colored tulle of her mid-thigh length skirt, checking her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted the deep blue, sequined bust of the dress before reaching for her lipstick.  

     “You look fantastic, Rosebud.” Maxwell said utterly enthralled with the woman before him.

   She peeked up into his eyes in his reflection in the mirror.

    “Wedding colors and House Beaumont colors. You outdid yourself with this dress, Hun.”

   Her fiance rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well it helps that you could make a potato sack look sexy.”

     She spun to face him, stepping on tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands gripped her waist and he placed a chaste kiss to her mouth. He felt a smile bloom against his lips as a snicker fell from the love of his life.

   “You look pretty spectacular yourself, Baby.”

    Stephanie adjusted his tie and brushed off his shoulders. “I don't know why you bother with a jacket, though. They never last the whole event because you hate them.”

  “Yeah, well. I have to try hard to look good enough to be on your arm, Red. Shall we?” Maxwell extended his arm and she took it, draping her hand in the bend of his elbow.

           They entered the ballroom of the Ramsford estate, greeting guests as they headed towards the dais, grabbing champagne flutes along the way.

    Bertrand and Savannah stood arm in arm on the raised platform, their own toasting glasses in hand. The Duke of Ramsford cleared his throat as his wife handed him a microphone.

     “We'd like to thank you all for joining us for my little brother's rehearsal dinner. Savannah and I are overjoyed to be welcoming the lady Stephanie Scott into our family tomorrow. Please enjoy yourselves and do make sure to offer proper salutations to the bride and groom.”

      A few hours later Stephanie found herself with Gen and Alicia near the dessert table.

    “You called it with the jacket, Stef. I guess it must be hard to move like that in one.” Alicia laughed, gesturing towards Maxwell as he grooved out on the dance floor.

    Stephanie glanced in the direction her friend had pointed to find her fiance, devoid of blazer with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Yep that's my Maxie.”

    She beamed as she noticed Countess Madeline and Lady Kiara at a table nearby.

Knowing that the two bitter women were almost always trying to plot against Alicia and Pam, she edged a little closer to them, straining her ears against the absurdly loud music to eavesdrop.

       “It's really very sad if you ask me, the nose dive this once prestigious house took when Duke Barthelemy and Duchess Renee died.” Madeline sneered.

     “Oui. House Beaumont was once one of the most revered houses in Cordonia and now they've only sullied their name by Bertrand marrying a commoner.” Kiara agreed.

  “And now the spare is following suit. And even worse, she's an American commoner. Maxwell's parents are likely rolling in their graves over his choice of a wife. Rest their souls.”

      Stephanie gulped, her face going pale.

   “Stef, are you okay?” Gen asked placing a hand on her friend's forearm.

   “I…. I feel dizzy. Excuse me.” She replied as her world started spinning. She sat her champagne flute down and headed towards the nearest door.

      She staggered into the the hallway collapsing into the wall. She pressed her back firmly against it, sliding into a sitting position, gently hugging her knees.

    Stephanie's nostrils flared as her chest heaved, her breathing coming in short spurts through her nose.

   Pam and Drake appeared in the hallway. He was adjusting his tie as Pam pawed at her hair, trying to smooth it back into place.

    “Stephanie, oh my God!” The brunette woman rushed over placing her hands on her friend's shoulders.

    Stephanie blinked furiously, trying to focus on Pam.

   “Drake, go get Maxwell. She's having a panic attack.” She instructed. Drake raced into the ballroom.

  “That's it, honey. Breathe. Max is coming.”

      A few moments later Maxwell came flying out of the ballroom with Alicia and Anitah on his heels.

    “Rosebud! What happened?!” He shouted kneeling to take Pam's place in front of his fiance. He gingerly cradled her face in his sizeable hands, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

    Just the sight of him calmed her by measures, but her breathing was still erratic. “M...Madeline…” she squeaked out.

   “Sssshhhh. Don't try to talk, Sweetheart. Just focus on me.” Maxwell told her calmly.

  Alicia began removing her dangle diamond earrings, promptly handing them to Anitah.

   “Brooklyn?” The queen asked and Alicia nodded before stalking into the ballroom, her skirt swept up in her arm.

    Stomping up to Madeline, she cocked her fist delivering a swift right hook to the Countess’ nose.

     Madeline fell from her chair and Alicia stepped over the crumpled woman. “Listen now and listen good. I've had enough of your shit. You stay away from Stephanie. Do you hear me?” She pointed at the blonde on the floor who nodded swiftly.

    “That goes for you too, bitch.” She huffed at Kiara.

    ��Back in the hallway, Stephanie's breathing was almost back to normal and Maxwell helped her up, pulling her protectively into his arm. “I'm going to take her to bed. Anitah will you let B know what happened?”

    “Of course.” Anitah replied.

        The couple slowed as they approached Stephanie's estate room. She looked up at Maxwell with puffy eyes and tear-stricken cheeks.

     “Are you okay, Rosebud?” He asked, his thumb gently caressing her face.

    “I am now. I'm so sorry, Hun. I don't know what came over me. I just got so overwhelmed…”

    Max placed a finger over her lips. “It's fine, Red. As long as you're okay now that's all I care about.”

     Stephanie looked deep into his eyes searching for any hint of disappointment. Finding none, she wrapped her arms around his waist. She pulled him tight against her, breathing in his familiar scent. Maxwell always smelled like chocolates and coffee, and she sighed delightfully into his chest.

    When they finally parted, Maxwell leaned in slowly. Just before his lips met hers she turned away, his kiss landing on her cheek. He didn't move at first except to lean away a little, his mouth still puckered a moment before it fell into a frown.

   “Did I...did I do something wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing.

   “No.” Stephanie began her gaze still averted. “It's bad luck before the wedding.”

  “Well I've never heard that a kiss was bad luck. Just the spending the night together. Is that an American thing?”

  She winced at his words, hoping he didn't notice. American thing.

    She looked back up at him. The concern on his face was breaking her heart, so she smiled warmly.

   “I'm just tired is all. I'm worn slap out.” She forced a chuckle, but he grinned in response and that was what she wanted to see.

  “I love your southern-isms, Rosebud. Well I guess I'll let you get to bed then.” He planted a kiss to the crown of her head and slowly turned her door knob.

   “Good night, Maxie.”

  “Oh it's going to be the best night because tomorrow I'm going to marry the girl of my dreams...but like in real life.” He winked as she chuckled stepping inside.

   “I love you, Maxwell Beaumont.”

  “I love you too, Stephanie Scott. I already can't wait to see you tomorrow.”

     The next morning the squad and Savannah all gathered in the bridal ready room positioned just off of the boutique.  Stephanie's gown stood, all by itself, in the corner. She stepped over to it, admiring the craftsmanship of Ana de Luca.

      It was a strapless dress with a white, corset-style bodice. Stephanie ran her fingers over the rainbow colored jeweled detail just below the breast. As her hands continued to dance further down the dress to the multi colored layers of tulle creating the skirt, she drew in a deep breath and tugged her floral print robe closer to her body.

    Every piece of her was ready to meet Maxwell at the altar and become his wife. Every piece but one.

     A nagging, irksome feeling in the pit of her stomach kept replaying the Countess’ words over and over again.

     “...even worse she's an American commoner.”

    “Well we're all dressed.” Alicia began, drawing Stephanie from her trance. She turned to face her bridesmaids, each wearing a different color of the rainbow.

    Alicia was in royal blue, Savannah in a vibrant yellow, Genevieve wore hot pink, Pam a deep plum, and Anitah in a Kelly green. Each was a vision in her respective dress; Stephanie's childhood vision of her special day.

    “Now let's get you in that thing. It's going to take all of us.” Pam mused pointing at the wedding gown.

   The bride stood before the floor length mirror, her ginger hair pinned half up, the rest flowing down her shoulders in loose, beachy waves.

    “So you have your something old.” Savannah stated, draping their grandmother's antique pearls around Stephanie's neck and clasping them.

   “ Your something new. From Rashad's dad.” Gen held up a pair of freshwater pearl earrings.

     “They're lovely, Gen. Please thank Demetrius for me.”

   “And something blue…” Alicia finished, wrapping a blue handkerchief embroidered with House Beaumont's crest around the handle of the bridal bouquet. “Now we just need to find you something borrowed.”

   “ I think I can help with that, actually.” Anitah said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a box, opening it to reveal a simple silver tone tiara adorned with Crystal and pearls.

   “It's from my royal collection. It'll match your heirloom pearls nicely and I think every woman should feel like a queen on her wedding day.”

    The monarch smirked as Stephanie's eyes went wide. She stepped up, adding the tiara to the crown of Stephanie's head, careful not to jostle her hair.

   “Oh Anitah!” The bride began whirling to peer into the mirror once more. “It's beautiful. How can I ever thank you?”

   “Just knock em dead out there. Seeing you look your best as you marry one of my best friends will be thanks enough for me.” The queen shrugged.

       Stephanie studied herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her , wrapped in all the trappings of a noble wedding, looked nothing at all like herself. Suddenly she felt dizzy again. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was a mistake.

     Not because she didn't love Maxwell. She did. More than anything; But seeing herself so dressed up only drove home the point that she didn't belong here on his arm.

    And the others are court, people that were important in Maxwell's country, they were taking notice.

    How could she ruin his House like this? Certainly she couldn't change the fact that his brother had married her cousin. The ladies at court would probably always gossip about Savannah, but at least she was a Cordonian.

     … Maxwell's parents are likely rolling in their graves over his choice of a wife….

     “I... I need to talk to Maxwell. Now. Right now!” Stephanie declared stepping away from the mirror. Her bridesmaids shared a concerned look.

    “Stef, it's almost time to start. Drake will be here any second to walk you down the aisle. Max is probably already at the altar-” Pam tried to reason.

    “I don't care what time the invitation says! Max and I are the ones getting married! What are they gonna do? Start without us?” Stephanie snapped.

      Alicia's eyes went wide as she mouthed “okay…” turning to face Pam.

     “I'm sorry you guys, I'm not trying to yell, I just...I really have to talk to him. Now. It can't wait.” Stephanie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

   Gen nodded. “Okay, but you can't see him before the wedding it's bad luck. So stand right here and me and Nitah will go and get him.”

     The ladies ushered Stephanie to the wall just next to the door jamb. She leaned against it, her head falling back to rest upon it as well as she sighed loudly.

     A few moments later they returned.

    “He's right outside.”Gen told her, a small giggle escaping her lips. “Funny. He's standing just like that.”

     Stephanie's eyes met Genevieve's, silently thanking her for honoring her crazy request.

   “Okay, we'll give you guys some privacy.” Pam stated ushering everyone out. She paused in the doorway and said, “we'll be waiting in the vestibule. And no peeking you two.”

    Once everyone was gone, Stephanie asked, “Maxwell?”

     “I'm here. Is everything okay, Rosebud?”

    She could hear the subtle anxiety in his voice and she closed her eyes as her heart sank. She slid down the wall, the fabric of her wedding gown catching slightly as she did.

   There was a faint scraping against the other side of the wall indicating that her soon-to-be husband had done the same. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maxwell's familiar, large hand reach around the corner, palm pointed skyward.

    She smiled to herself, lacing her fingers in his. Her hand suddenly looked so naked since she had removed her Sapphire and diamond engagement ring for the ceremony.

     “I've just been thinking...we met seven months ago. Seven months. There are still so many things...and today we're getting married.”

   She looked down at the multicolored tulle skirt of her gown, rolling the fabric between her unoccupied hand.

     “Somehow you don't sound so sure about that, Red. Are we...are we getting married today?” Maxwell's voice was calm now, even and understanding.

    “I love you so much, Max. I can't imagine my life without you, But this is a huge step. I guess I just wanted to..ya know? Give you an out. If you want one. It's just us here, so we can do this quietly-”

   “Stephanie, why would I want an out? You're my soulmate.” He interrupted gently squeezing her hand.

   “Look… I don't fit in here, Maxwell. I'm not made for all of the pomp and circumstance. The fancy parties and the opulence. I mean one of your best friends is literally a queen. I grew up on a farm in Texas. You're nobility. I can't compete and I can't keep up. And most of all, I know I'm not good enough. I just don’t wanna make you look bad.” Stephanie mused, her voice cracking.

    From his place in the hallway Maxwell shook his head, wiping his hand down his face before nervously wetting his lips.

     “What brought this on? Have you been just stewing in this? Stef...I love you and you love me, the real me. That's all there is to it. I don't care about all of the other stuff.”

     “I overheard some ladies at our rehearsal dinner talking about how first Bertrand married below his station and now you were doing the same thing and how your parents would be so disappointed. I don't know.”

    Maxwell pulled her hand further into the doorway. She could just make out the ends of his messy chocolate hair and the tip of his slightly upturned nose as he brought the back of her hand to his lips. He lingered there for a long moment, his breath warm against her fingers.

     Finally he said, “ If you don't want to do this, I can't make you. It'll kill me to let you go, Stephanie; but I will gladly do that if that's what you want. I'd do anything for you, even break my own heart. I just want you to be deliriously happy, Rosebud. No matter what it takes. So I'll tell ya what I'm going to do. I'm going to head out there,  to the altar, and I'm going to marry you, if you'll still have me. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I just want to be your husband, because I love you and I know that this type of love only happens once in a lifetime.”

   Maxwell pressed his lips to her hand once more before standing. He brushed off his slacks before adding, “ I really hope you'll meet me out there. I can't wait to see you in that gorgeous gown, baby.”

     Stephanie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was still silently begging her tears not to fall when Drake appeared in the doorway.

     “There you are. Let's go get you married, Beaumont.” He grinned.

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

@speedyoperarascalparty I love the gif, Pammy 💚 thanks for reading and reblogging 😘

Go Mets!

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @mf-despair-queen‘s 2019 Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week.  This is my first ever Dylan fic, as well as my first ever reader insert (ish) fic, so keep that in mind hahahaha I hope you enjoy it!

 Also! DISCLAIMER: I write this purely for fun, I don’t get paid or anything like that, I’m just borrowing our favorite Mets fan for a bit of  good natured fun…

Warnings: light swearing, because it wouldnt be a riseandshinelittleblossom fic without it. :D

Shout out to my wonderful friend @ao719 for indulging me and pre-reading this for me..girl your rock!

 Tags: @leelee10898 @fullbeaumonty @kennaxval @superapplepie @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @stiles-o-dylan24  @ownworldresident @mrscutiefandobhaz

    Dylan held out his arm, staggering backwards a bit as he caught the baseball in his well-worn mitt.

    “Hey, nice one Maggie!” He chuckled.

    The six year old across the yard beamed at him and he couldn’t help but feel his heart melt seeing her snaggletooth grin.

     He was so proud of how much she had progressed since he first started bringing her out back to play catch two years ago.

     His friends had all warned him to steer clear of getting into a relationship with you because dating a single mother also meant “you have to play Dad,” but that had never worried him in the least. Maggie was a good kid, really smart, and she shared Dylan’s passion for baseball and the Mets. These days he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his time off between filming than to be in the backyard helping her practice for her little league games.

   She flipped her long, chocolate- colored plait over her shoulder and resumed her batting stance.

   “Okay, Dyl. Let’s have another one. And don’t go easy on me this time.” She sassed.

   “Go easy on you? I would never..” he feigned innocence, grasping the ball firmly and grinding into the mitt a few times.

   Maggie rolled her eyes, the bat falling to her side.

   “I’m serious, O'Brien. You think the girls on the Grizzlies are gonna go easy on me this weekend? Not a chance! They’re out for blood after we wiped the floor with them last season.”

   “Out for blood, huh? Okay, well pick up the bat and I promise I won’t hold back then, Princess.”

    She resumed her stance and Dylan shook his head.

    “Here,” he began crossing the yard in a few strides to stand behind her. He widened her grip on the bat and helped her crouch a bit lower. “Gotta widen that stance, baby girl. Otherwise the first speed ball’s gonna knock you right off of home plate.”

      He returned to the makeshift pitcher’s mound that he and Maggie had made with a pile of her kinetic sand. It was a project that you had been none too happy about.

      He stomped his feet a few times before releasing a steady pitch.

      With a loud crack, the young girl sent the ball sailing away from her. Dylan hit a backwards run in an attempt to catch it, but it soared over the fence anyway.

   You watched from the open kitchen window as your boyfriend raced across the yard and hefted the small girl onto his shoulder.

   “And the Mag-ster rounds first! She’s off to second! Oh my God, she’s flying past third! Aaaand she makes it all the way home!” He shouted as he ran a circle in the yard and Maggie cheered, her small fists pumping into the air as Dylan mimicked the sound of a crowd roaring. He placed the child on the ground and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

    You and Dylan had been going steady for two years now, but it always made you smile to watch him with Maggie. He was the best daddy to her that he never had to be and it made you love him even more.

      You thought back to the day that he first entered you and Maggie’s lives as you finished washing up the mountain of dishes in the sink.

***********”**

     You adjusted the settings outside of the batting booth before crouching in front of your preschooler.

    “You sure you want to do the batting cages? We could go for another round of skee ball instead.” You suggested as the little girl before you adjusted her baseball helmet and shook her head. The child-sized aluminum bat in her hand still looked humongous and you bit your lip, wondering why you’d agreed to let her go in there and let a machine lob baseballs at her.

    “I wanna baseball! I’m tired of just tee ball! It’s time to break into the big girl game, because one day I’m gonna play for the New York Mets.” She told you matter-of-factly as she stepped into the cage.

   You blamed the babysitter. She was a sweet woman that kept Maggie for next to nothing and she had two boys of her own that were only a little older for your daughter to play with.

   The sitter’s oldest son, Jacob, was nine and he played little league, which meant he and his brother often tried to get Maggie to play catch with them outside. Jacob was Maggie’s hero and a die-hard New York Mets fan. All the time she spent with Jacob had ignited a fire within your near five year old. It had started with endless tee ball games in the local junior league and now…batting cages at the family fun arena.

   You wrung your hands nervously as the first pitch shot out. You’d set the machine on the lowest setting but it still felt like the ball was the Roadrunner, jetting away from Wile E. Coyote as it hurdled towards your small child. Certainly anyone watching must have thought you were insane to let her in there.

   Maggie held her own, swinging confidently even though the ball barely glanced the end of her bat. The metallic ting caused her to giggle wildly.

   “I hit it!” She shouted.

   “Hey, good job!” a male voice came from behind.

   You whipped your head to see a tall slender man wearing khaki pants and, coincidentally, a Mets jersey. Your eyes scanned over him, your bottom lip tucking itself involuntarily between your teeth.

   He twisted his baseball cap, leaving the bill sticking out behind him and tucked his folded sunglasses into his shirt. He gave you a polite smile and nod, the fluorescent lights overhead catching his honey colored eyes just enough to make them sparkle.

   Your heart all but stopped as you smiled back and quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed that he’d no doubt noticed you checking him out.

    “Thank you. She lives for this stuff.” You said shyly.

     TING

   “I hit it again!” Maggie squealed in delight, turning to face you. “Who’s he?”

   She scrunched her face up as she stepped out of the cage.

  “Oh I was just waiting my turn is all. I’m going to use the cage when you’re finished. Nice form in there,though. If you’d like, maybe I could give you some pointers.” The man said.

     “You would?!” She squawked.

    You were taken aback by the way he peered directly into Maggie’s eyes when he talked to her. Not many people were so attentive when they spoke, especially to children. It made your knees feel weak as he trained his eyes on you in the same fashion.

   “I’m Dylan.” He offered, extending a hand.

************

    Your attention was pulled back to the present as you heard Maggie’s sassy, near whiny voice through the window.

   “I am NOT a baby anymore, Dylan. I’m getting bigger everyday, you know.” She scoffed.

   He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

   You stepped onto your tiptoes to get a better view of the two loves of your life, straining to hear their conversation. They were seated on the patio now, Dylan helping Maggie oil her own glove as well as his own.

    “Mommy says that if I want to keep playing I have to take good care of my equipment. She said only responsible players get into the big leagues, so I have been trying to oil my mitt like you showed me, but sometimes it’s hard.” The girl huffed as her mentor lifted his large hands-the ones that plagued your every day dream- and placed them over hers, patiently guiding her movements.

   “You want to make sure you get into every groove, Princess. Every crevice. See? You’ve got it. I’m so glad to hear you’ve been listening to Mom while I’ve out of town, though.”

     You let out a sigh, a warm feeling spreading from your chest throughout your body, a small chuckle escaping you. How did you ever get lucky enough to find him?

    “Dylan, can I ask you a question?” Maggie piped up.

     “Anything, squirt. What’s on your mind?”

    “Why were you and Mommy yelling at each other last night?”

     Dylan’s eyes went wide as he turned his gaze to his own mitt.

    “Wha..wuddaya mean? We weren’t-”

     “Come on, O'Brien. I’m not deaf. You were saying, ‘Oh, Y/N,’ and Mommy kept screaming ‘Dylan, oh my God’. Were you guys fighting?”

    You tried to stifle a laugh, your hand flying over you lips as you remembered the absolutely mind blowing events from the night before. The ones your daughter had apparently overheard. You could barely see your boyfriend’s cheeks turning bright red right about now and you would have paid good damned money to get a view of that up close.

    “Uh, no. We weren’t…we weren’t fighting, Princess.” Dylan tried to be vague and he cleared his throat. You knew he was silently hoping that his answer had been enough to end the conversation, but you also knew Maggie better than that.

   “Oh. Well then what were you doing?”

    Dylan turned to wipe off his hands, holding the towel out for Maggie to do the same.

    “We were…we were talking in our sleep.”

    “I heard banging, Dyl.”

     The dark haired man gulped audibly, one hand rubbing over the days old stubble of his chin.

    “Uh…that? Oh we were… okay listen. You know I love your Mommy, right Princess?”

    Maggie nodded, “Yep! And she loves you.”

    “That’s right. So we love each other. Sometimes, uh…when a boy loves a girl…ya know…they…dance…together?”

      You cackled softly listening to Dylan not even buying his own bullshit.

   “Oh. But I can dance without banging, see?”

   Maggie hopped from her seat and swept into a graceful ballerina twirl, her hands above her head.

    “Well that’s because you’re a beautiful baseball-playing ballerina, and as such you’re very graceful. Mommy and I…well, we’re sort of clumsy.”

   The child laughed. “So you mean you guys fall down a lot?”

   “Exactly.”

    “So that’s why you were yelling right? You just kept knocking each other down?” the six year old cocked a skeptical eyebrow and Dylan nodded.

    “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Dyllie. I’m not buying it.”

     Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay how’s this? We were dancing together because we love each other and we’re clumsy so we kept falling down, but then he had…um bruises..?” He stopped short, clearly at a loss.

   “The truth, please. I was born at night but not last night, ya know?” Maggie sassed with an eye roll.

   “Okay the truth is… The truth is that I love your Mom and she loves me and sometimes when you love someone so much you just…you want to show them. There are things that you will learn about when you’re older that help grown ups show each other how much they love their boyfriend or their girlfriend. And so..that’s what we were doing. But those things are for grown ups only. I mean…grown ups that love each other and want to get married someday…not just any old boyfriend and girlfriend…”

     Your heart stopped at the thought. You and Dylan had been together for a long time, but somehow you’d never talked about marriage before.

    Maggie stared at him, one eyebrow cocked, her face scrunched in thought.

    “Do you..? You understand anything I just said?” He asked nervously.

    “Uuuuhhhh…..go Mets?” Maggie replied still obviously confused.

    Dylan laughed loudly as he ruffled her hair. “That’s my girl!”

    “I don’t even wanna know anymore,” she shook her head. “As long as you promise you and Mommy aren’t breaking up.”

    Dylan wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.

   “No way, Princess. You two aren’t going to get rid of me that easily.”

     “Hey, Mommy!” Maggie beamed as you appeared in the sliding glass doorway.

      “Hey, kiddo. Why don’t you take your gear upstairs for me? Dylan and I need to talk.”

      She complied with your request, gathering her belongings and tossing them into her athletic bag before hefting it inside.

     You grinned widely at Dylan as your daughter disappeared up the stairs. He exhaled audibly, silently mouthing “thank you,” as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

       He ambled across the patio, wrapping his long arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

   “I know you were listening, you evil woman. Way to leave me hanging.”  Dylan muttered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. His whiskey eyes were locked on yours, making your knees suddenly feel weak.

   “I dunno, you seemed to be handling things pretty well on your own.”  You smugly replied.

    “Yeah? You think so? I’d love to show you a few other things I can handle pretty well.” he pressed his lips to yours and you giggled into the caress.

    “You mean like…Go Mets?”

    He scoffed, giving you his near award-winning, lopsided smile.

    “You’re damn right, go Mets.”