#unexpectedoneshot

He can hear the water running in the shower; can hear her humming a song that he doesn’t immediately recognize.  It makes him smile, hearing her and knowing she is nearby, without the threat of her disappearing or him leaving her again, without the cloud of the friend zone looming overhead.  

He’s lying on the couch, his muscles and bones sore from exhaustion, his eyes struggling to stay open. The irony not lost on him that just a short time ago he was in the same position on this same couch but in a much different situation.  The anxiety and desperation that coursed through him then nowhere to be found now. Thankfully.

Very thankfully.

Moving his arm up, he covers his tired eyes with his forearm and places his other hand on his torso. His body seems to relax instantly with the welcomed darkness provided, his eyes no longer so heavy, his mind settling into a peaceful lull.

He can hear the cats and Dodger moving about the house but he’s too comfortable to see what they are doing.  And he continues to hear the soothing sound of the water from the shower and Taylor’s gentle hum.  It’s beautiful and relaxing . . . .

A pressing warmth settles against his chest, pulling him out of his tranquility.  He knows without question what is it . . . . . or better yet, who it is, his body reacting without fail.  It’s a sensation he is familiar with, one he experienced every time she is near from pretty much the moment they met, but one that he now doesn’t have to hide and ignore.

His eyes are still closed as his arms slide around her, locking her to him, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.  She giggles as she snakes her hands underneath him and then nestles her head between his and the back of the couch.

“Taking a cat nap,” she questions, her warm breath tickling his ear.

He shakes his head slightly, lids still down.  “Just resting my eyes.”  

Her knee falls just in between his legs as she settles comfortably on top of him.  “Am I squishing you,” she asks softly.

“No.  You feel perfect right here,” he responds as he moves his head an inch and plants a kiss on her forehead before tightening his arms around her.

Contentment, he thinks as he takes in the moment.  Contentment. Happiness.  Love.  Everything. All right here in his arms.

His lips find her skin again and he feels her body soften even more, melting into him, merging as if they are one.  He loves everything about how this feels.

“This is all I ever wanted,” he whispers, finally opening his eyes and tilting his gaze to look at the woman in his arms.  His woman.

“What,” she asks, her voice so delicate it feels like it could break amidst the silence surrounding them.  

“This.  Us like this now and forever.”

He watches her smile, a tender look of gaiety settling into her expression.  “Now and forever,” she agrees.

He removes his hand from her waist then, letting his arm rest against the seat of the couch as he raises his palm up.  She knows what he’s asking for, her hand, and she slips it out from under him, placing it in his.  He twists his fingers through hers and then pulls their locked digits to his mouth, kissing her soft skin.  

“I don’t really want to leave this,” she whispers again, after a few seconds.  

He knows what she’s talking about.  Their pending departure from Block Island, away from the quiet solitude and back to the hustle and bustle of their real lives.  They’ve allowed themselves to get lost in the distance and isolation, completely oblivious to the outside world and the commitments and explanations that await them there.  He’s also readily aware that they haven’t really talked about those things yet.

He moves his fingers within hers, up and down, squeezing and releasing.  “We can stay here longer if you want.  I don’t leave for Atlanta for a couple more days and I’m sure that the owner would be ok with us staying.  I’ll even go beg Brandon for more time if I need to.”

She snickers faintly. “He doesn’t hate you, even if it seems that way.  He’s just protective that’s all.”  Taking a deep breath, she continues.  “And as much as I love the sound of that, I know that you want to see your mom before you leave and considering I’m new to this girlfriend role, I’d hate to get off on the wrong foot with her.”

“She adores you,” he laughs, “I think even more than she adores me.  So you’re good.  But she did warn me that I’m not allowed to return there without you so I’m thinking you need to go with me once we head back.”

“Aha,” she giggles, “so I have Momma Evans to thank for pushing you to Block Island?”

“No, you have Momma Evans to thank for pretty much pointing out how unbelievably blind I had been but I can promise you that by that time, I already knew that I had to find you.”

Raising her head, she rests her chin on his chest, her gaze dancing onto his, those brilliant blue orbs literally seeming as if they are dancing about.  She smiles.  “Well I’m glad you found me.  And I look forward to thanking her for opening your eyes a little more.  But first . . . . I want to stay right here a little bit longer.”

Tipping his chin down, he meets her lips for a kiss.  “You can stay here as long as you want.”

 He holds her hand as it rests on her leg during the drive from Point Judith to Sudbury, Taylor assuring Brandon she would be fine as they left the ferry station.  Her bodyguard had left for Watch Hill, Olivia and Meredith in tow, as Dodger piled into the back seat of the car.  Occasionally, from the corner of his eye, he can see Taylor roll her head to the side and look at him, her view resting there for a few seconds before she smiles and returns her gaze to the road they are travelling.  He squeezes her hand every time he sees that smile, his lips never failing to mimic hers.

He remembers the last time they were in his car.  The morning after their revealing night of Never Have I Ever, when he took her to his house so they could ride to the sunrise on his motorcycle.  He had been so intent then on making yet another of her childhood wishes come true, not knowing at that time how many chances he’d get to do so.  Now though, he knows he will get many and he’ll do whatever he can to make everything she’s ever told him of her wishes and dreams come true.  

They pull into his mom’s driveway a short time later and he leans over and places a peck on Taylor’s cheek before he asks her to let him go in first.  “Why,” she asks and he laughs.

“Because she said I wasn’t allowed to come back without you,” he chuckles again, cementing his statement with a mischievous wink.

With Dodger at his feet, he walks into the side entrance and into the kitchen.  He knows without a doubt that he will find his mother there and he does.  

She’s standing at the counter, knife in hand and throws a glance his way when he enters.  

“Nope, get out,” she orders, turning around briskly, waving the knife precariously in front of her, “do not tell me you are coming in here without that woman.  You get your ass back out there and find her and grovel or beg or dammit kidnap her if you have to.”

“You want me to kidnap Taylor Swift,” he asks, knitting his eyebrows together, “do you know how insanely hard that’s going to be not to mention pretty illegal.”

She lifts her hand, and the knife, higher.  “I don’t care how insanely hard it’s going to be.  Or if you go to jail for it.  You love her. You messed the hell up.  You need to fix what you broke.  And don’t come back here until you do.  I wasn’t playing when I told you that before, Christopher.”

He tosses his palms up then, keeping his face solemn, and walks back toward the door.  “Come on Dodge,” he yells before he throws the door open and Taylor steps into view.

The smile that radiates on his mother’s face is instant and obvious and she pitches the knife that she’s been holding back onto the counter and moves across the room, wrapping Taylor in her arms.

“Oh he did something right,” she proclaims as she suffocates his girlfriend.

“He did,” Taylor laughs, adjusting her body to fully take on his mom’s embrace, “after doing several things wrong.”

Her gaze flows to him then, providing him with a wink and a grin, the action sending butterflies swimming through his belly and a soulful laugh from his chest.

He rubs his chin and tilts his head from side to side, feigning a hurtful reaction to her blow.  “Yeah I deserved that.”

Taylor moves to him then, sliding her arm around his waist and pinning herself to his side.  “I can’t claim to have been perfect in all of that either.  And I guess you could say that I did leave you after the first time we slept together . . . though you were awake and kinda prompted me to leave.”

“The first time,” his mother interrupts, not allowing him to press Taylor’s meaning behind him prompting her to leave.

When both he and Taylor’s eyes move to her, she bursts out laughing.  “Oh don’t worry, I already knew that.  You have a brother that doesn’t know how to keep secrets or keep his mouth shut.  I’m fairly certain his text to me said did you know Chris and Taylor have hit the sheets?”

“Hmmm,” Chris sighs, not at all surprised by his brother’s lack of discretion but wishing that unsavory trait didn’t belong to him, “I’ll have to chat with Scott about that.”

“Well you will have that opportunity.  He’s on his way here with Stella.  Apparently your sister is having a pampering day and conned Scott of all people to babysit. Of course, that means he’s going to bring her here for me to babysit.”  Lisa moves her gaze to Taylor, smiling brightly.  “But she’s gonna be pretty happy to see you.  And I am too.  I’ve known for a long time that you were supposed to be with Chris but I also knew that he needed to really figure that all out himself.  I’m beyond glad that he did.”

“We both did,” Taylor says and he tightens his arm around her shoulders, nudging her against him even more.  She glances up at him and meets his smile before she turns back to his mom.  “So,” she bellows, stepping one step out from him and clapping her hands together, “How can I help?”

  His brother and niece arrive an hour later, Stella’s eyes growing as wide as saucers when she spots Taylor.  His heart continues to grow fuller as he watches Taylor bend her knees, spreading her arms open to allow the young girl to run into her embrace.  Scott, meanwhile, just stares at him, his grin smirklike, his nod telling him that his brother approves of this moment, of his woman but also seems to scream what took you so long?

They eat dinner in the backyard with Stella squeezed in between himself and Taylor and occasionally he reaches behind her, placing his palm on Taylor’s back and rubbing it.  And when Stella grabs Taylor’s hand and pulls her toward the trampoline in the corner, he stops their movement by grabbing her other hand and pulling her to him.  His lips meet hers and he feels her smile into them before Stella wins out, tugging her away in a sprint.

Scott tosses him a beer and he moves one of the chairs to face the scene taking place with his niece and girlfriend, his brother doing the same.

“You can’t stop kissing her and touching her,” Scott laughs as they watch.  

His words bring a smile to his face and a chuckle from his throat.  “I’m making up for lost time.”

“For all the times you wanted to kiss her and touch her and couldn’t,” Scott adds, “even though I know you kissed her and touched her a few times when you weren’t supposed to.”

He nods, his smile widening as he turns his head to look at his brother.  “I guess you could say that . . . . and, by the way, thank you for telling mom about it.  She told me about your Chris and Taylor hitting the sheets text.”

Raising his beer, Scott tips it at him, his grin mischievous and telling.  “Oh is that the only one she told you about?  There were others.”  He takes a quick draw from the bottle and then moves it to rest on his leg. “I also said something about Cap trying to steal Loki’s girl and that you needed to put your big boy Captain America panties on and actually get her.  Glad to see you finally did.”

“Well they aren’t panties,” Chris snickers, “but I did finally realize that the friend zone wasn’t where I needed to be.  And apparently she didn’t want me there either.”

Scott nods slowly. “Should make for some pretty interesting Avengers time coming up . . . . and maybe some more interesting time within the Marvel fandom.”  

His eyes move back to Taylor and Stella as Scott speaks, his smile dissipating.  He watches the duo jump wildly on the trampoline, Stella’s small hands within Taylor’s, their feet seeming to never touch the bottom at the same time.  He hears Scott clear his throat before his words start flowing again.  “I’m sure I’m not saying anything that you haven’t already thought of but you know how your fandom is . . . . and you know how Tom’s fandom is.  And the Marvel fandom.  They can all be a little bit, what can I say, wackodoodle.”

Turning his head toward his brother, he stares at him for a few moments, Scott meeting his glare and reading into it.  “I like her. I like Taylor a lot and I’m crazy glad you two are finally together and can stop making longing googly eyes at each other.  But I just want to make sure you are ready for what it means to be dating Taylor Swift . . . and to be dating Taylor Swift when you essentially stole her from Marvel’s favorite villain.”

He shrugs.  “I’m gonna get some hate.  I don’t care.”

Scott nods in return and then lifts his bottle back up, tipping it again toward the trampoline. “Yep.  You are.  But Taylor . . . . . she’s gonna get more.  Bank on it.”

“Weren’t you the one who pushed me to admit that I had feelings for her,” Chris spouts, suddenly confused by his brothers warning and honestly, a bit offended.

Throwing his hands up, the bottle dangling in his fingertips, Scott shakes his head.  “Don’t get defensive.  I’m not saying I don’t think you two should be together.  Anyone with at least one eye and half a brain can see that you two are meant to be together and I’d give just about anything to get what you have.  I’m just telling you to be ready for the storm and be ready to be there for her when she needs you to be . . .  like when your fans who think they are married to you or your fans who think you should be married to Sebastian attack her.  And that’s your fandom alone.  She’s gonna also face Tom’s and you know that.  For the most part, they won’t blame you.  In their eyes, you’re Captain America and fairly untouchable.  They will blame her though . . . . . because you know the things they already say about her.”

His mind shifts back to Leo’s party then.  To the words he watched Taylor hear, to her reaction to those and later to her telling him what being associated with her would probably mean for him.  It causes a pang to swim through his heart and lodge there, stabbing over and over again.

“I love her,” he says simply, tossing his shoulders up, “it took me far too long to admit that to anyone but you.  And now that I have, I’m gonna do whatever I have to do to be everything she needs.  I don’t care about what anyone’s fandom thinks or what the media will inevitably say.  I love her.  That’s all that matters.”

Scott smiles then, his chin dipping in a nod.  “And she loves you.”

“And she loves me,” Chris laughs, “took her a fair bit of time to admit that too but she did and I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone harm that or harm her.”

“That’s all I was eluding to big brother,” Scott grins, “that you finally fought to get her now you need to always be prepared to fight for her.”

“I will,” Chris says just as he feels the push of a tiny body on top of him.  

He lets out a dramatic “ow” as he places his bottle down and wraps his arms around Stella.  

“What were you two talking about so seriously over here,” Taylor laughs as she steps in front of them, catching her breath after their sprint from the trampoline.  

“He was being stickily disgusting in telling me how much he loves you,” Scott cockles.  

“Guilty as charged,” Chris bellows as he moves his hands to his niece’s stomach and starts tickling.

Soon, Stella begs both Evans men to jump with her on the trampoline and then begs even more for them to play hide and seek around the backyard.  Taylor joins them, with Chris stealing kisses from her anytime they come near each other, not at all willing to stop kissing and touching her on this day. Or ever.  

They eat slices of Lisa’s famous apple pie with mounds of ice cream on top and Taylor joins his mom inside to pile dishes into the dishwasher.  When his dad arrives home, he tosses a wink at Chris and a welcome towards Taylor before he gathers his granddaughter up for a game of basketball in the driveway.

Chris finds Taylor standing on the patio, her radiant smile directed at his family frolicking around the yard.  

He slides his hands around her waist and she leans back into him.  “Your family reminds me so much of mine . . . . minus the nieces and nephews of course.”

“Hmmmm . . . . I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he chimes in as he places a kiss on her hair.

“It’s a good thing. Your family is amazing.  I feel so at home with them.  I always have.  And I think you will feel that way about mine.  Or I hope you will at least.”

“I know I will,” he replies, clenching his hands firmly on her stomach as she nestles into him.

“So are you going to tell me what you and Scott were really talking about earlier,” she says after a couple of silent minutes.  

He sighs, tapping his lips to her head once more before he answers.  “He was just making sure I was ready for whatever gets thrown our way.”

He expects her to tense up in his arms but she doesn’t, instead she seems to relax even more into him. Content.  “And are you?”

“I just had to face you when you were angry and hurt and when I was pretty sure I had lost you forever . . . . I’m fairly certain nothing can be scarier than that.”  

She tilts her head to the side then, smiling as she glares up at him.  “Have you met Tom’s fans?”

Shaking his head, he laughs loudly.  “Remember when you had me stuck in the land of pining friends and told me that I should probably consider what being near you would mean?  I told you then that there was nothing anyone could say that would change my mind about you.  And now that I’m out of the land of pining friends and I get to kiss and love you freely, I can assure you that there is nothing that will ever change that.”

Leaning back, he gently tugs at her arm, pulling her around to face him.  “I’m not scared of the real world, Taylor.  I’m not scared of facing Tom or the fans or anyone else.  I wasn’t when I was just your friend and I’m definitely not now that I’m more than that.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

She lays her head against his chest.  “I don’t ever want rid of you.”  

“Promise,” he chuckles.

“Pinky promise,” she responds with a soft giggle, “but can we forget the real world for just a little bit longer.  You’re leaving for Atlanta soon and no one outside of our families and our pets know about us yet.  I kinda want to soak up all I can before . . . .”

“Before what,” he questions when her voice falls off and her gaze turns down.

He can tell she’s thinking, probably running scenario after scenario through her head.  He tightens his arms, pulling her against him more. She grins at his action but doesn’t bring her eyes to meet his.  She does, however, continue.  “Before whatever Scott warned you to be ready for happens.”

Shaking his head, he places another kiss on her head, knowing this is probably the hundredth time he’s done so today.  “First, I’m ready.  Second, yes. I’m more than happy to forget the real world for longer.  I’m also more than happy to focus solely on you for as long as I can.  I know I still have some things to make up for.”

His words spring forth another gentle giggle.  “So do I,” she whispers, her view finally moving to his, “though not quite as much as you.”

Her bellowing laughter tells him that whatever thoughts were shuffling through her mind earlier are gone so he allows his own chuckle to mingle with hers.  And when his lips find hers again, he hears his brother’s shout behind them.

“Good grief, get a room.”

They both laugh more as they rest their foreheads against each other and he moves his hand down to mingle with hers.  When she steps back and then takes a place at his side, still hand in hand, he sees his mom and brother making their way towards them.  Stella maintains her play in the yard, running around with his dad chasing her.  

When his eyes catch his mother’s mischievous smile, he knows exactly what is going to happen next and he readies himself for it.  

“Yes please get a room,” Lisa chimes jubilantly, confirming Chris’s guess, “you two have wasted way too much time already and none of us are getting any younger . . .”

“Especially you Chris,” Scott adds, his smirk returning.  

“ . . . and I think it’s about time for one of my sons to actually give me a grandchild.”

He shakes his head animatedly, sighing at the not so shocking words being exposed.  “Mom.”

“Mom what,” she continues as Scott steps in behind her, his expression indicative of his overwhelming amusement with the situation, “this is my job.  I am supposed to push you two to get busy giving me grandkids.”

He tightens his fingers within Taylor’s, somewhat afraid to even look at her to see her reaction to his mother’s plea.  “The only thing you are going to push, dear mother, is Taylor away.”

Lisa reaches for Taylor then, placing her hand on her arm and squeezing there.  “Dear son, if you bedding her and then running away didn’t push her away, I doubt your mother’s desire for more little feet running around will.”

He hears her then, Taylor’s laughter joining that of his brother, loud and boisterous and happy. He feels a lightness immediately settle into his heart and through his body.  

Taylor tilts her head toward him, shrugging her shoulders up one time.  “She has a point,” she laughs.  

Taylor’s twinkling, amused eyes are still on him when his mother speaks up again.  “This one is the keeper, Christopher,” she emphasizes, “and while I rarely agree with what your brother says, I’m backing him on this get a room idea.”

“Well I didn’t exactly mean I wanted them to give you grandkids,” Scott interjects, “I’m just kinda tired of them not being able to keep their hands off of each other.”

“You all are too much,” Chris moans, tipping his head back with a fake groan, “if she runs away because of you two, I will never forgive you.”

Taylor tightens her hand in his and he pulls his head back up to see her sinful smile.  “I’m not running anywhere.  Besides, that’s what you do, not me.”

The howls of laughter that take over his parent’s backyard are almost deafening and he shakes his head in defeat, a glorious happy defeat.  “Are you seriously joining in with their antics?”

She smiles.  “Yes, I’m seriously joining in with their antics. Would you rather me be uptight and distant or would you rather your family accept me?”

His mother slides her arm around her then.  “Oh honey, you can believe me when I say we accepted you a long time ago.  Pretty much the second Chris walked you into that box at Fenway.  There was no doubt in my mind right then that you were supposed to be there with us and absolutely with him.”  Leaning forward slightly, his mom stares at him.  “And as much as I love spending time with you and I’m elated that Chris brought you here since I wasn’t sure you’d give him another chance, I know that he wants to spend time with you too.  And I’m pretty sure you already know that I’m all for that.”

“We don’t need to rehash that,” he groans again, his grin conflicting the emotion of the noise escaping his chest.

It’s at that moment that he thinks they have been saved by Stella, his vibrant young niece bounding giddily across the yard.  His mom steps away from Taylor to capture her in an embrace.

“Where are you going Uncle C,” her tiny voice beckons.

“I’m going back to my house near the beach,” Taylor answers for him, “and your Uncle C . . . .” She glances at him.  “Well he’s going to go with me there so he can visit.”

“Oh like we did before,” Stella asks, eyes wide and spirited.  

Beside him, Taylor nods. “Yeah kinda.”

Stella’s eyes grow even wider and he can’t miss the spark of excitement that ignites in them.  “So I can come?”

This time, it’s his mother who is answering, falling quickly over her words.  “No Stell, you and your uncle Scott are going to stay here tonight. Your grandpa already bought stuff to make s’mores and chocolate chips for pancakes in the morning.”

“But I want to make s’mores at Taylor’s house, like before,” she whines, first giving a pleading glance to his mom before she turns to his girlfriend.  “Please, please, please . . . it’s been so long since I’ve seen Olivia and Meredith and I miss them.”  Her puppylike eyes move to him next.  “Please Uncle C.”

His shoulders feel tight as he moves his head from side to side.  “Stell, I can let Dodger stay here to play with you if you want.”

“That’s a good idea,” Lisa adds, her gaze bouncing from him, to Taylor and then to Stella, “and you and I can take him on a walk to the park and you can play on the things there. You always like that, right?”

His budding actress of a niece plays her favorite role then.  That of the heartbroken child.  And this time, she plays it directly to Taylor.  “I really really want to see the cats.  Please let me go with you.  I’ll be a good girl.”

Just like before, he can anticipate what is coming next and when he sees Taylor bob her head beside him, he knows he is right.

“Ok sweet girl, you can come.  I’m sure Mere and Liv would love to play with you too.”

“Taylor,” Lisa pleads, “she will be fine here.  She can come some other time.”

With her fingers still laces with his, Taylor squeezes and then turns to face him.  “It’s fine.  We’re all here now and she wants to go and it’s not like I’m going anywhere so we will have plenty of other opportunities to be alone.”

“And start procreating,” Scott cackles and Taylor shakes her head, laughing.  

She keeps her beautiful blues on him as her smiles peaks even more.  “Besides . . . . maybe you can just fall more in love with me tomorrow morning when Stella and I are making breakfast.”

“That is so gross it’s sweet,” Scott chimes again as Chris stares down at Taylor, drinking up every ounce of his amazing woman.

Before he can say anything, Stella is at them, wrapping her tiny arms around both of their legs, before she sprints off with a yell of “I’ll get my stuff.”

“Guess you’re not getting any grandkids tonight,” Scott laughs and he breaks his gaze to look at his brother, shaking his head in disbelief.

Scott shrugs and then lifts his palms up, shrugging.  “What? I mean I guess you could try for a quickie job in the bathroom or something but we all know Stell is going to weasel her way into bed with Taylor and you are going to get kicked to the curb, brother.”

“That house is big and she will eventually have to sleep so there are plenty of places you two can get busy, if you know what I mean.”

“Mom,” he yells, shaking his head once again.

Lisa’s amused expression tells it all.  “What? You two make me wish I was young and frisky.”

This time, both Chris and Scott toss their heads back as exasperated groans escape from them both.  “God, mom.  I did not need that visual.  Ever. Like literally ever.”  

He finds Taylor shaking her head and laughing when he turns his gaze to her.  She places her fingertips on her chest, heaving as she finds her voice and spouts out a few words.  “Well if I’ve learned one thing today,” she draws in a deep breath, “it’s that I know who your sons got their verbal inhibitions from.”

“Oh that’s from me for sure,” Lisa agrees, tossing her head to the side, toward his dad, sitting calmly on the patio, his grin indicative of his overhearing their conversation but his mouth expectedly closed.  “As you can see, Robert is the quiet one.”

“The good one,” his dad adds with a nod, “though I will say that I’m game for another grandbaby.”

“Good grief,” Chris says as laughter beckons around them once more.  He tightens his grip on Taylor’s hand and begins to pull her away. “C’mon, let’s get Stell and get out of here before they start picking out baby names.”

Taylor laughs but then stops her movement, pulling her fingers from his to turn around and throw her arms around his mom.  “Thank you for today . . . . for welcoming me . . . . and for pushing him to Block Island. I’ll be eternally grateful for your role in this.”

Within the hug, he can see his mom’s face soften, her lips lifting into a smile.  A beautiful, genuine one.  “Darling, I can assure you that if he hadn’t gone to find you, I not only would have kicked his ass, I would have went there myself and confessed his love for you.”  She falls back from the embrace, her eyes soft on Taylor.  “Unfortunately, sometimes my children can be as stubborn as me but I’m glad that in this case, Chris realized what he had done and what he was losing.  I only had to give him a little push instead of that kick in the ass.”

Taylor smiles, tossing her gaze back to him quickly before returning to his mom.  “Regardless, I’m thankful.”

  Stella chatters the entire two hour drive to Watch Hill, talking about the cats and Dodger, about her favorite Kidz Bop songs and Youtube videos.  Chris smiles at the interaction between his niece and Taylor, admiring the way Taylor never seems to tire of the youngster’s endless discussion and never-ending questions even as he does.

They eat s’mores almost immediately upon arrival and Taylor has to plead hard to convince Stella that it’s too late and there is too much chill in the air for her to swim tonight. Tomorrow, she assures with a quick glance to him.  

It takes more convincing that it should, finally ending with a promise from Taylor to let Stella “swim” in her tub upstairs after she plays with Olivia and Meredith and they dance a few rounds of Just Dance using the Nintendo Switch Stella slipped into her bag before leaving Sudbury.

He finds himself sitting back and taking it all in, watching the joy shine on both of their faces as they dance and play, as they have discussion after discussion about absolutely nothing important at all.  He doesn’t really join in, content with just watching, his mind etching memory after memory of the moments, of the adorably sweet and heartwarming interactions between the niece he loves and the woman he loves.  His mind also occasionally roaming to the future and painting pictures there. Ones he infinitely hopes come true.

He carries Stella upstairs at one point and into the bathroom just off of Taylor’s bedroom. He places a quick kiss on her temple as he leaves the room and kicks his feet up on her bed.  His gaze grazes over the room, his first time being in it, lingering and smiling at the pictures on her nightstand and then on the guitar perched in the corner.  Olivia jumps up on the bed, nestling in beside of him, just as his ears perk to the conversation taking place in the bathroom.

“You like coming here, huh?”

He hears Stella splash wash. “Yes!  And I like your other house too.  The one where we watched Up and Dodger tried to eat all the popcorn.  And I love, love, love Olivia and Meredith. I want them to live with me.” Smiling at her words, he shakes his head, the expression on her face obvious in his mind even though he can’t see it.

Taylor laughs, sending warmth shimmying through his body, and he hears the continued sound of the water splashing about.  “Well, maybe one day they can come and visit you,” Taylor says, her voice mellow, “Can I ask you another question?”

“Yeah,” Stell responds quickly.  

“Do you like it when I’m around?  When I’m with your uncle?”  Her question peaks his interest and slowly pulls a smile to his lips.  

He listens closely for Stella’s response, chuckling to himself when he hears it.  “Yes,” she exclaims loudly, “I have so much fun with you. You play with me and you sing with me and you let me give hugs to your cats.”

“That’s important isn’t it,” Taylor giggles to another exuberant “Yes” from Stella.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, except for the sound of pouring water, until he hears Taylor’s voice again.  “So tell me Stell, would you want me to be around more often?”

“Yes.”  Stella’s voice is all but a yell, quirking a grin further onto his lips.

“Good,” Taylor says after, her voice filled with happiness, “because I want to tell you something.”

“What?”  He rises to a sitting position in the bed, listening intently to the conversation that he is fully involved in without being a part of.

Taylor’s voice is soft, sweet and calm.  “Well Stell, I wanted to tell you that I’ll probably be around more than before because I love your Uncle C.”

“I do too,” Stella quips, without missing a beat and without fully understanding what Taylor is saying. It brings a laugh from both him and Taylor.

“I know you do,” Taylor continues, still calm and steady, “and he loves you.  But the way your Uncle C and I love each other is different.”

The sound of water splashing continues but doesn’t cover Stella’s voice.  “How?”

He hears Taylor take a deep breath and he imagines that she is contemplating, choosing her response carefully and in a way that his young niece will understand.  “Remember the movie we watched before?  Up?  You remember at the beginning when the girl and the boy meet and become friends and then they grow up together and spend time together?”

“Ellie and Carl,” Stella slips in, “Ellie was the one who wanted to go to Paradise Falls.”

“Yes and Carl wanted to take her there because he loved her.  They loved each other.  Carl eventually loved Russell, which is kinda how you and your Uncle C love each other, but Ellie and Carl loved each other in a different way.  Enough to want to always be together, no matter what.”

Listening to her words does something to him, clutching hold of his heart and sending a wave of emotions through his cells and muscles, digging into every inch of him.  There was something beautiful about her describing their relationship like Ellie and Carl’s, something that made him want to make sure to give her something like the fictional relationship she compares them to.  Solid and strong.  Unwavering. Eternal.    

“Like Belle and the Beast?” Stella’s words bring him back to reality and he laughs at her question.  

“Yes, like Belle and the Beast.”

“And grandpa and grandma,” she continues.  

He can virtually see Taylor’s nod, the grin on her face.  “Yes, them too.  And I would say your parents but I know most kids think their parents kissing and hugging is gross.”

“It is,” Stella says, punching her words with the sound of her throwing up.  When she stops the sound effects, she keeps on.  “But it doesn’t bother me when you and Uncle C do.”

Taylor’s giggles fill the room.  “I’m glad to hear that.”

He hears more splashing, this time louder, and he knows that Taylor has likely helped his niece from the bathtub.  “But don’t be like Anna and Hans.  He was mean,” Stella’s voice bemoans emotionally.  

Taylor laughs again. “Oh he was.  So you need to tell your uncle he needs to be more like Kristoff and not Hans.”

“Yeah,” Stella emphasizes.

Before he knows it, a nightgown clad Stella bounds from the bathroom and jumps onto the bed, her tiny feet moving quickly as she stands up and starts toward him.  “I know, I know,” he cockles just as she plops onto his belly, “I won’t be like Hans.”

“You better not be,” Taylor adds, his gaze finding her just as she moves onto the bed herself.

She leans towards him and he starts to do the same but both of their motion is stopped when Stella pops in between them, nestling her little body into the blankets of the bed and her head into the mountain of pillows.  

“Let’s watch Up,” she proclaims loudly as Chris looks at Taylor and shakes his head, exasperated.

  At some point, he gives up on even thinking he may grab a second alone with Taylor, accepting his crushing defeat exactly the way a man should.  By tossing Taylor the saddest of puppy dog looks while carrying Stella out to the terrace.  

They had finished Up a few minutes ago and Chris had tried, in vain of course, to convince Stella that she should sleep in any one of Taylor’s several cozy beds in other cozy rooms. Instead, he had wound up tossing his hands in the air after Stella’s heart wrenching plea to sleep on the terrace with them, like before, and Taylor’s ultimate acceptance of this plea.  

So he carried Stella into the chilled Rhode Island night with Taylor beside him, her arms full of blankets.  He set up the lounge chairs in much the same position as they were before and accepted his fate as the third wheel to Taylor and Stella’s slumber party adventures.  

They pointed out constellations and talked about the sounds the waves were making and then made plans for Belgian waffles with maple syrup and Canadian bacon for breakfast, Chris obviously making a quip about the international theme of the meal.  

It took far more time than he anticipated for his young niece to finally cozy up next to Taylor and drift off to sleep, the still of the night settling in amongst them, cloaking them like a warm throw.  

He lies back onto the lounge chair, his view up toward the sky, watching as red lights flash on and off up above.  “Who is on that one?”

Taylor’s laugh tells him that she knows what he’s asking, that she remembers their conversation in this very place what feels so very long ago where she told him about her always wondering who is on the planes that fly overhead.

“Hmmm,” she replies softly, careful not to wake Stella, “Let’s go with Haley Bennett and Julian Edelman.”

He chuckles, rolling his head from side to side.  “I was going to say let’s not but I’m actually ok with the thought of those two flying far away from here.”

“You wanna know something,” Taylor asks, looking over Stella to eye him.  He nods.

“When Julian brought me home after the game that night and I told him that I was tired and he didn’t need to stay, he shook his head and then put his hands on his hips and then he said something.”

He peaks an eyebrow, preparing himself for what may come next.  “What?”

“He said that he hoped that guy opened his eyes and realized what an amazing woman he was letting get away. I was still living in a land of denial then so I questioned who and he said you.  Then he said something about you being lucky but that maybe if you never realized how lucky you were that maybe I’d let him be the lucky one.”

“He won’t be lucky,” he scoffs, shaking his head vehemently, “Edelman will never touch you.”

“I think you’ve said that before,” Taylor laughs, still trying to keep her voice down. 

“I’ll say it a million more times if I need to.  I opened my eyes, I realized how lucky I am and he’s not getting lucky with you. Ever.”  As Taylor’s laughter intensifies, Chris moves his hand to his head, rubbing there.  “Now I don’t know if I can ever cheer for the Patriots again.”

“Oh stop . . . I told you before that he was a gentleman and really, you should probably thank him too because I have no doubt now that you seeing him hitting on me eventually led to everything coming to light.”

He glares at her . . but with a playful smile on his face.  “I will not thank him for flirting with you.”

“It was just a suggestion,” she giggles, tossing the one hand not wrapped around Stella’s shoulders up.

When Stella starts to squirm beside her, Taylor looks at him and smiles brightly.  “Shhh….”

He returns his gaze to the sky, to the stars now shining slightly brighter than before.  Another plane flashes its way through the darkness followed closely by another.  He wonders, ever so briefly once more, who could possibly be aboard them.  

Then, without warning, his mind shifts.  To earlier in the day.  To the words that Taylor had uttered but he hadn’t had a chance to question.  

“What did you mean,” he says, glancing at Stella and then to Taylor.  “When you were talking to mom earlier and you said that I had prompted you to leave after our night together in Boston.  What did you mean by that?”

She seems briefly surprised by his question but then smiles softly, her eyes relaxing onto him.  “I meant that I didn’t want to leave.  You told me that Tom had called and, honestly, I should have been elated but all I could really think about was how much I wanted to stay.  It was such a weird feeling for me because I had waited for months for Tom to finally respond to me in some way, I had been wanting it so badly, and here you were telling me that what I wanted had finally happened and I just wanted to crawl back into bed with you.”  He can feel his mouth falling open slightly at her revelation, her words shocking him . . . and making him wish that she had done just what she had wanted to do. “And then you said that about being lonely and I told myself you were probably right, that was probably why it happened and why I was feeling that way.  I was clinging to you because I was lonely and Tom wasn’t near.  So I left.  But I missed you.  And that’s why I texted you and invited you and your family back here.  But even then I kept telling myself I was just lonely and nothing I was feeling would still exist after Tom came.  Obviously I was wrong.”  

He shakes his head, her words still lingering in his ears, in his mind.  “We weren’t very good at communicating were we?  I was giving you an excuse for why we slept together even when I didn’t believe it myself and you weren’t telling me what was going with you either.”  

She mimics his movements, tossing her head.  “I don’t think it was that we weren’t good at communicating.  We were, just apparently not about the stuff that mattered.  About how we were feeling and what we were thinking. We tried too hard to toe that friendship line.  Sometimes failing miserably with our actions but still not saying the stuff we should have been.  But none of that matters anymore.  You’re here. You know how I feel.  I know how you feel.  And we won’t fall victim to our own confusion again.  Now we just need to make sure we always say what’s on our minds and what we are feeling.”

His eyes move to Stella when she squirms again, this time thrashing her body around and snuggling it up against him.  He chuckles. “Apparently, I just need to take Stella’s advice and be your Kristoff.”

“Nah,” she scoffs, adding a wink, “I’d much prefer being the Ellie to your Carl.”  She raises her finger, a grin emerging.  “But if I tell you somewhere I am dreaming of going to, you better get me there before I die or I will haunt you.  And if you decide to go there by yourself after I die, I will haunt you even more.”

“Wow,” he bellows, howling with laughter, “I’ll consider myself warned.”

He’s still laughing, Taylor doing so as well, when he lowers his eyes and his view onto his niece once more. He places his hand on her head, pushing strands of hair away from her face.  “By the way, I’m sorry my mom was pushing the grandkid thing already.  Just consider it part of her Boston charm.  Or Boston pushiness, whichever you prefer.”

Taylor leans back against the chair then, pulling her gaze from him but keeping a gentle smile encased on her lips.  “I want to have kids, Chris.  I mean, not at this second so your mom is gonna have to wait a bit, but I don’t mind the idea of having kids and I definitely don’t mind the idea of having kids with you.  So don’t apologize.  She didn’t bother me.  And I won’t tell her you said she had Boston pushiness.”

He shakes his head, his cheeks growing sore from all the laughter and happiness of the day, so much of it courtesy of the woman near him.  

She looks at him after a few seconds of silence, a few seconds of him taking her face in. “What,” she asks softly.  

“I was just thinking about how much I love you, Miss Swift, and how freaking amazing it feels to finally be able to tell you that whenever I want.”

She dips her head. “Good.  Because I love you too and I’m glad that I can say it anytime I want. Forget our communication issues before, I want us to be able to say whatever we are thinking and feeling whenever we want.”  Her smile widens.  “So tell me something else you are thinking.”

He chuckles.  “Awww, let’s see . . . .”  He looks up quickly and then moves his view back to her. “I’m thinking how much I’d really love to have my way with you on this terrace, the way I wanted to but didn’t tell you the two nights we spent out here before.”

She nods, her smile reaching her ears.  “Ok. Tell me something else.”

“I’m thinking about how much I hate that I have to go to Atlanta in a couple days and how much I’m going to miss the hell out of you while I’m gone.  And I’m thinking about how I loved watching you with Stella today and how much I know I’m going to fall more in love with you in the morning when I watch you two cooking breakfast.  Even if I don’t really understand why you are discriminating against American breakfast foods.”

“Shut up,” she says, tossing her head back against the chair in laughter.  

“Well I don’t . . . but now it’s your turn Swift . . . so tell me what you are thinking.”

Taylor sighs, pulling her leg up on the chair before she lays her head to the side so she can eye him. “I guess that’s only fair.”  She places her finger on her lips, tapping it there.  “Let me see.”

“I’m thinking that I might change Belgian waffles to French toast but that really doesn’t help with the whole American breakfast food thing.”  He rolls his eyes, snickering, as she continues.  “And I’m thinking that as much as I love spending time alone with you and the thought of you having your way with me, I’m pretty happy just being here on this terrace with you and Stella.  And maybe I’m thinking that I’m really going to miss you too when you go to Atlanta and that part of me wishes I could go with you but I don’t know that jumping back into the real world with that big of a bang would be a good idea, especially with you going there to film a Marvel movie.  I’m quite possibly already the most despised of all the Marvel villains and I’ve accomplished that without being in a movie.  Which, I might add, is talent.”

She laughs, probably more loudly than she intended, and he can’t help but join in.  Even with the anxiety he has no doubt that she feels about what will be said about her when their relationship is revealed, the fact that she holds some ability to laugh about it amazes him.  And makes him love her even more.

Leaning back against the chair again, she raises her gaze to the darkened night sky.  A few seconds pass by before he sees her gin reappear, this time, tinted with a hint of mischievousness.  

“I’m thinking one more thing too,” she says, her gaze dancing on him, “I’m thinking that I was right about what I said before.”

Knitting his brows together, he dips his chin.  “Oh yeah, what is that?”

She waits a few more seconds before she finally turns, that sinful grin growing wider and wider before she clears her throat and speaks up.

She winks.  “That I really do miss that beard.”

Her words produce a boisterous laugh from the depths of this belly and he shakes his head so hard that the stars twinkling above seem to form lines of light.

Fighting for his voice after a few seconds, he finally spits out some croaking words in response.  “Is that a challenge to make sure you don’t miss it?”

That sinful, mischievous, stunningly gorgeous grin appears once more and she shrugs.  “Maybe.”

Reaching across the space between them, and over Stella’s somehow still sleeping figure, he rubs his fingers into her shoulder, massaging.  And when she licks and then bites at her bottom lip, he responds with his own lick of his lips and then his own telling wink.