Ahem, so this is not me realising that I never got around to posting this after the charity compilation it was a part of. No sir *facepalm*
Anyways...I have this and the tiniest bit of chapter two written, so I'm making no promises on how quickly this will resume posting. I need to make some speedy adjustments to the second part of the Riptide epilogue and get that up asap, give Someone Else's Baby a little attention, and then it's Sully's turn. In the meantime...here's a glimpse into our favourite goofball's head.
****HEADS UP****
Our boy is a goofball but he's also been through some tough stuff. I'm not going to dole out spoilers here, but
this story, Sullivan's story, isn't going to be the smoothest ride. If you're worried, message me. But you're going to
need to buckle up for this one.
As always, all my love and gratitude to annaharding, maplestyle, and hotteaforme for being their awesome selves and prettying things up for me. You ladies are the best xo
Summer of Sullivan
Chapter one
Sullivan,
I'm sorry we argued. I know that's an odd way to start a letter, but it's true.
I'm sorry for so many things, but fighting with you is right up there near the top of the list…
~ sos ~
"Get the fuck out of my house, Wayne!"
Ruh-roh.
Not again.
I scrunch up under my Ironman blanket, stuffing my fingers in my ears so I don't have to hear—
"You bitch! I pay the rent on this shithole, I'll decide if I wanna leave or not. Maybe I'll chuck you and that brat out for a change. See how y'all like it."
Mom is quiet for a sec, then she yells back, "He's six years old, asshole! You're gonna kick him out on the street? I'll let you tell him, then! He has no idea what a fucking idiot you are!"
"Yeah, he does," I mumble, humming a song to try and drown out Wayne's and Mom's yelling.
They yell a lot, so I'm real good at it.
"And I just can't wait 'til the day when you knock on my door. Now ev'ry time I go to the mailbox, gotta hold myself down. 'Cause I just can't wait 'til you tell me you're comin' around…"
I jump when the screen door slams and squeeze my legs up tight, hugging them.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
My heart goes boom-boom-boom really fast and my fingers are shaking, so I stick them under my armpits. I'm a teeny tiny little ball on my bed. I'm invisible, like Susan Storm or The Flash when he runs super quick.
"Now I'm walking on sunshine. I'm walking on sunshine. I'm walking on sunshine. And don't it feel good…"
My door bangs open and I don't need to guess who's standing there.
sos
...fifteen years later...
"Shit, dude. What is in here?"
Snorting, I grab the box Sam just dumped in the hall and carry it through to the kitchen. "It's all her plates and shit, I'm guessing." Peeling back the lid, I grin when I spot the corkscrew right on top. "Yep, kitchen stuff," I laugh, holding the dick-shaped corkscrew up so Sam can see it.
His eyes widen and he splutters a laugh, then he waggles his eyebrows like he's got a good idea. "Think she'll go for it if I ask her for a scre—"
"Not likely, Sammy." T breezes past the entryway toward her bedroom, her voice rising over the music playing through her cell in her back pocket.
Sam deflates a little, but he's never one to be knocked down for long.
"You didn't even hear the rest of what I was going to say!" he protests, trailing after her as I shake my head and lean back against the island.
It's been a quiet six months without T here. As she and Sam bitch at each other, him judging her for wanting her bed under the window instead of opposite the mirror on the wall, her telling him 'Bite me, this is the first and last time you'll be in here anyway,' I grin because I've kind of hated living alone.
I'm definitely not the loner type.
"Yo, where is everyone?"
"In here, Ev!"
Everly appears a few seconds later, one of my favorite little people on her hip. His eyes light up when he spots me; Everly rolls her eyes as he stretches out of her grasp. "Oh, sure. Ditch me for him. You boys always stick together."
"Well, of course!" I grin, scooping my nephew out of her arms, earning what the sixers seem to think is an appropriate greeting.
River licks my cheek like a slobbery-tongued puppy and offers me a bright-eyed, gummy smile when I exaggerate my "Yuck!" and wipe off my face with my forearm. Cute little shit.
"Where're the rest of 'em? Don't tell me you just stole one."
Dropping down at the counter, she reaches for the lemonade pitcher leaving a puddle of condensation all over the worktop, pouring some into the glass I fetch her from the cupboard. "Yeah. The others were asleep, but River wasn't having any of it and B had work to do, so I said I'd steal him for a few hours." After chugging half her drink, she adds, wryly, "One kiddo I can handle. For a few hours, anyways."
Snorting, I adjust River and slide my sunnies down off the top of my head for him to chew on. "Still on that never-having-kids thing?"
"It's not just a thing, Sully," she drawls. "I'm never having kids. I love all my nieces and nephews, and I love my kids at the swim school…" Everly trails off, her expression miles away, and I picture her with all the kiddos in our family, with the kids she treats like her own at the swim school, and I kinda can't imagine her not having a family of her own.
Then again, I guess her on-the-side second gig doesn't really mesh well with family life. Or maybe it would, I don't know. There must be women who do both.
"I just don't think it's for me," Everly finally says just as Tiani and Sam rejoin us. T steals River as soon as she spots him and Sam declares it 'beer o'clock,' sheepishly backtracking when T points out the ten-month-old gnawing his fist in her arms.
"Why don't we head out for ice cream instead?" I suggest. "It's hot as fuck, I could do with some mint choc chip." Ducking a little, I boop River's nose. "What about you, pal? Want some ice cream?"
"Ba!"
"See? That was definitely a 'yes.' Roll out, people."
sos
Taking one of the sixers anywhere in Jackson Bay guarantees attention—and freebies.
Lexi, who owns the ice cream store, steals River while her husband serves us, my nephew's squeals and gummy grin earning us all an extra scoop for free.
It pays having famous kids in the family, let me tell you.
"It's your birthday soon, isn't it, sweetheart?" Lexi coos, River babbling a bunch of nonsense at her as Everly and I share shit-eating grins—me over my mint choc chip, her over her gross pistachio. The sixers are having a big birthday party, but June fifteenth won't just be the anniversary of the sixers' birth if me and Ev get our way.
My gaze drifts back over to Lexi as she asks if we know what the theme is for their big party.
Arching an eyebrow, I smirk. "I think they're going with a beach theme."
Lexi's laughter rings out through the store. "Oh, of course! Silly me. Of course it's beach themed! You're our little beach babies, aren't you?"
It's still funny to me, ten months after my big brother and his wife welcomed sextuplets into our crazy family, that the town thinks of them as 'ours.' River, Oakley, Caben, Mackenzie, Asher, and Rylee aren't just 'the sextuplets.'
They're 'the Jackson Bay sextuplets.'
They even have fan pages, which…well, it blows my mind.
I mean, it doesn't hurt that 'the hot uncle' people talk about in the comments a whole lot happens to be yours truly. Suck it, Jasper and Benjamin.
"Here you go, a River-sized portion." Lexi winks at me as she sits River in the rolling highchair with a small pot of what looks like regular vanilla ice cream on the tray. "Our little secret."
"Our secret," I agree with a chuckle, pushing River over to the free table by the window with Sam; Everly and T hang back with Lexi to talk party favors.
"Nice spot, man," Sam grins, nodding at two girls rollerblading past the window.
"Yeah," I agree half-heartedly, barely sparing them a glance.
Sam is one of my best friends in the world, but like everyone except a very select few, he has no idea that girls in Daisy Dukes do absolutely nothing for me.
The beefcake climbing out of the truck a few spaces over, though…
"Hey, isn't that your brother's buddy? The soccer dude?"
Killjoy. Why does he have to remind me that the guy is off limits?
"Yeah. Brody Weller."
"That's right." Sam snaps his fingers. "The Gators guy, right?"
"Right."
Sam, bless him, isn't exactly a soccer guy like most of the guys in my family. He's more into skateboards than soccer balls. He has no idea that the guy whose butt I'm staring at is world-famous and fawned over by millions on the regular.
I'm so busy watching Brody stop to chit-chat with Jones, who's just showing up for his shift at Burger Co. a couple of stores over, that I don't notice the beautiful specimen sliding into the spot right outside the window. Not until Brody's gone, anyway. My tongue freezes halfway toward my ice cream cone as my eyes drift over, catching on pale blue paint and shiny silver alloys.
"You've gotta be kidding…"
Sam's "What?" gets batted away by a vague "I'll be back in a sec," chair legs scraping the floor as I scoot back and tear outside like my ass is on fire.
"Watch the baby!" I call over my shoulder, briefly wondering if leaving Sam in charge of a baby, even if only temporarily, is the best idea. I kind of forget to be worried though when I get outside and the sun is glinting off a VW camper the exact same color as the spring sky. "Fuck me."
"You're not really my type," a soft but snarky voice drawls, the thud of a door slamming yanking my attention away from the old-style window frames and vintage side mirror. Curtains stop me seeing inside, but I bet—hope—it's got all the original upholstery.
If I were into girls, I'd be tripping over myself to get this chick. She's stunning, long blonde hair split into halves; one that spills over her shoulder, the other tied up in a ponytail. Her tank looks more...hacked-at than neatly cropped, her midriff bare to reveal a cherry belly button piercing catching the sun, and she's got this long, flowy skirt on that kind of reminds me of something Bella used to wear when she was prego. She used to pull it up over her boobs and use it as a dress.
The girl is hot, and judging by the look on her face, she knows and she's over people noticing.
"Are you done checking me out?"
I grin, teeth flashing, then take a lick of my ice cream before it melts all over my hand and ruins any chance I have at not looking like an idiot.
"You're not really my type." I tease her with her own words, only realizing once her eyebrows lift that in less than five seconds, I've effectively outed myself to this stranger.
"Good to know." Cocking her head, she leans her hip against the camper and eyeballs me. "You look like a local. Know anywhere good to eat?"
I splutter a laugh. "I look local? What does a local look like?"
Her lips curl up, green eyes smiling. "Like you. Surfer body, board shorts, sun-bleached tee, flip-flops, I'm bettin' an all-over tan...yeah, I'd say you just about sum it up, beach boy."
Beach boy.
"All right, well, as it happens, this beach boy knows the best place to eat in Jackson Bay." Stepping closer to her, and the edge of the sidewalk, I point toward Burger Co. twenty or so feet away. "My brother owns the place. Tell whoever's working that you're a friend of Sully's, they'll treat you like a celebrity."
She snorts and straightens up, stepping onto the sidewalk. "Special treatment is the last thing I'm lookin' for, so I'll just say I'm an enemy of yours."
Pursing my lips, I rock back on my heels as she heads away from me, toward the restaurant, and admit, "That would probably guarantee you royal treatment, I'm afraid."
Spinning to walk backward a few steps, she pockets her keys and laughs, the sound soft as it rides the breeze back to me. "Good to know. Thanks for the rec, Sully." We both look over toward the window of the ice cream store, my smile widening as River slaps the glass and probably shrieks his little head off because I'm on the other side of it. "See you around."
I turn back to watch VW girl twist away from me. "Yeah," I breathe with a grin, watching her until she disappears, weirdly hopeful that I will see her around.
Especially when I snap out of my funk and realize I never even got to ask her name or any of the questions I have about the gorgeous camper she rolled into town in.
sos
"Sully! Your cell's ringing and it's that godawful default ringtone!"
My stomach rolls as I quickly knot my towel at my hip and jog out of the bathroom. T is holding my cell in the air with her thumb and one finger, like it pains her to touch it when it's playing the 'godawful default' ringtone. She mumbles a "yeah, yeah" when I plant a smacking kiss on the top of her head and pluck my cell from her grasp to answer it.
I don't need to look at the screen to see the caller ID.
I leave this particular number with the 'godawful' ringtone on purpose.
"Hey, baby!"
Joy of joys. She's high.
"I'll take this in my room," I tell T, not that she gives a shit—she's too busy watching reruns of Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares for the five millionth time. Confident T's not really listening anyway, I sigh, "Hey, Mom."
"How's my darling baby boy?"
He was great.
"I'm good, Mom. Hey, are you on your own?"
"No, Wayne's here. Say 'hi!'"
Gritting my teeth, I listen to Wayne telling her he doesn't want to speak to "that sack of shit."
"The feeling's mutual," I mutter, raking a hand through my hair. "Look, Mom, I thought we talked about this. The smoking—"
"Oh, baby, you do worry," Mom giggles. "You're so sweet. You get that from me, you know."
Dropping down on my bed, I couldn't care less that I'm probably getting it all wet through my towel; I'd only just gotten out of the shower when T yelled. Lowering my hand so I don't have to listen to Mom cooing at Wayne about how sweet she is, I stare at the ceiling and breathe, "I really fuckin' doubt it."
Mom has lots of...qualities. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure the only ones I've inherited from her are my restlessness and my inability to focus on any-fucking-thing for long enough to achieve any actual goals.
And my eyes, I guess. I got her icy blues.
"Are you comin' home soon, baby?" Mom croons, apparently done making kissy noises at Wayne.
Home.
Home wasn't any of the seven houses we lived in when I was growing up. It's none of the three she and Wayne have lived in since I moved out here, either.
Home is rolling blue waves and sandy beaches. It's weekly brunches with a family I've stolen to call my own.
It's safety and love and not wondering when the next beating is coming.
"No, Mom. I told you, I'm not comin' back for a while now. I'm working."
I don't bother reminding her again that we're just heading into the busiest time of the year. Tourists will soon start flocking to the Bay like flies on shit, and when the kids break for summer vacation in about six weeks, Everly and I will have wannabe surfers coming out of our ears. Sign-ups are already rolling in and I've taken on more of the paperwork this year since Everly's got her late-night gig as well as the swim school. Then there's my hours at Burger Co., on top. I definitely won't have time to drive back to Vegas to babysit her and Wayne.
I'm devastated, obviously.
Wayne yells that he's going out, and then Mom's voice is softer, more like normal, after the door bangs. "I miss you, baby. Why don't you come see me?"
My throat gets tight, a knot twisting my stomach. She won't remember this conversation tomorrow. She never does. So I tell the truth.
"Because you won't leave your piece of shit boyfriend."
"You know he's just hard on you because he cares, Van."
Swallowing hard, I push her little nickname for me from my mind. Nobody's ever called me that except her. It's always 'Sully.'
"You know that's bullshit." My cell vibrates in my hand. It's my timer to tell me I should be getting ready to head to my shift at Burger Co., so I wrap up the call with a vague promise to visit when I'm less busy and a pointless reminder that she's supposed to see her sponsor tomorrow.
"Oh, I might be busy tomorrow," she says airily, distracted. I picture her in the smoke-stained kitchen, rolling a fresh joint on their peeling table.
Last time I was there, Wayne put a hot pan on it and burned a black ring onto the plastic.
"Mom…"
"Oh, got to go, baby! Wayne's back with our friends. Mwah!"
And just like that, like a tornado twisting and flying toward its own destruction, she's gone.
Tossing my phone toward my pillows, I flop back and stare at the ceiling, heart thudding dully in my ears, the start of a headache making me wince.
Shit.
"Why do you take her calls?" T murmurs from the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, a worried little frown on her face.
Sighing, I shrug. "She's my mom."
Coming to flop down beside me, T snuggles into my side when I sneak an arm under her for a hug. "Not all moms are worth the effort you put into maintaining this relationship. Not when it affects you this way, Sully."
I want to rail at her and tell her she's out of order.
We both know that I wouldn't, and she's right on the money, though.
So, instead, I soak up her comfort for a few minutes before dragging myself up and kicking her out so I can head to work.
sos
"Cheers, mate."
"No problem, mate," I drawl with a grin in a pretty shit imitation of Jared's Australian accent, handing him his change. "Take it easy."
"Always do," Jared says, all bright white teeth in a Cheshire cat grin under a mop of blond hair. "C'mon, sprout."
"Da-ad…"
I smirk as Jared's four-year-old gives him shit for calling her 'sprout,' calling a goodbye to Hazel and reminding her that I'll see her for swim lessons in a couple weeks.
Hazel turns to give me a big, gap-toothed smile just as adorable as her dad's. "Shee you shoon, Shully."
Fuck, man. This kid's lisp...too cute.
"You're gonna break hearts one day, Hazel."
She giggles as Jared scoops her up to carry her outside, and I only drag my eyes away from their tickle fight by the car when Jones lightly swats me with a towel.
"What?"
"You're so obvious, dude."
"Yeah, whatever."
Jones snorts, but switches to customer service mode when the guy from table four comes over for another beer, so I let him think he's right. I let him think it's the cute kid I'm eyeing, because it's no secret that I love kids, not the adorable as heck dynamic she and Jared have.
Jared is the first gay guy I've ever met who has it all.
Great job, nice house, smokin' husband, and a precious little girl. They adopted Hazel a year ago and she's honestly the cutest.
Seeing Jared, Kyle, and Hazel makes me ache for a future I know I won't have.
For a family all of my own.
As my attention shifts to a guy at one of my tables gesturing to request the check, I glumly admit that, to have the family I want, I'd need to accept that I'm not like my brothers. I don't want a beautiful wife.
I'd have to get out of the closet.
sos
Locking up the restaurant is one of my favorite jobs.
Jones is in the kitchen with Paul, the guy who's taken a bunch of Kelly's hours, and I've got Garrett out front helping me clear down for the night. We crank the music up loud—Disney, of course—and test the new tap beer. It's pretty good, which I tell Edward when he calls to check in, like he does every night.
"I'll be up in a few, hon," he tells Bella, relaying her thanks to me for babysitting this morning.
"It was no sweat," I tell him honestly, grinning as I grab the cloth and a bottle of anti-bac spray so I can get the tables. "Did Arlo tell you what he did?"
My brother grunts, so I'm guessing 'yeah.' "That kid's gonna be the death of me, I swear."
I can't help but laugh. Out of the three boys, Arlo is definitely the wildest. He's a hoot, though. And if I'm honest, he reminds me a lot of me when I was younger.
"So, how's my other baby?"
"Good," I chuckle, cell between my shoulder and ear as I start wiping tables. "We had a quiet night, but everything was good."
Garrett yells that he did good with the new beer, and Edward laughs as he admits he thought we'd approve. Smirking, Garrett tips his beer in my direction and drapes the towel over his shoulder. "Tell him I've ordered a case of bottles for guys' night next weekend."
I relay the message and chat with Edward for a bit longer until he says he's heading to bed to join his wife.
My chest pangs with a flicker of jealousy—I wish I had the relationship they do. The love and trust and security. "Aight. I'll see ya tomorrow. We're still goin' to Lake Eola, yeah?"
"Yeah. The boys are stupid excited. The twins have called you as their chauffeur, so we'll keep Arlo, Max, and the sixers."
"Perfect. See ya tomorrow, bro."
"Night, little brother. Love you."
Twisting the damp cloth in my hand, I grin. "Love you, too, brother."
sos
"Aight, let's get outta here," I sigh, shoving my keys, wallet, and phone into the pockets of my cargo shorts.
The guys tell me to have a good time on my weekend away with Edward, Bella, and the kids, then once the doors are locked up tight, I toss the keys to Garrett and stroll over to my pride and joy—my truck.
I'm tired but I'm not ready to go home yet, so I drive toward the beach instead. The moon and stars are out in force. The sea is calm and eases up the shore gently as I cruise along the waterfront, already wishing I'd brought my board and wetsuit, but they're both at home.
Knowing I'll only want to go in if I go down onto the beach, I carry on driving until I hit the overflow parking lot.
My brows hike up my forehead when I realize I'm not alone.
The blue camper is parked right in the middle, as close to the sea as it can get without being on the sand. A light is on inside, and I can see a silhouette moving through the curtains.
It's been a few days since my run-in with the camper and its owner; I'd started to wonder if she was just passing through. I'm weirdly giddy that I was wrong. Parking up a few spaces away from her, I wonder if it's creepy to stay like I planned, my probably hovering at the forefront of my mind when the camper door opens, splashing light across the gravel. Camper girl hops out, flip flops stirring up dust as she sets something down on the ground—no, two somethings.
A snicker breaks free when I squint at the weird shapes and realize they're cats.
My laughter quiets when I feel eyes on me and find myself the recipient of a raised-eyebrow smirk complete with a hand on a popped hip. Rolling down the window, I lean on the door and call, "Aren't you scared they'll run away?"
She shrugs, teeth flashing white in the moonlight. "They know where their bread's buttered." Watching the cats mosey around a little, she finally turns back to me and cocks her head. "Are you gonna sit there being a creeper all night, oooor…?"
Snorting, I clamber out of the truck and stride over, hands stuffed in my pockets and a growing grin on my face when I near the cats and get a better look at them in the light spilling out of the camper.
One of them is a gray tabby with white paws and a big white patch on its chest, more slender and kinda girly looking. When the cat turns, my breath kind of catches. "What happened to his...her?...leg?"
"Her," Camper girl murmurs, scooping up the gray and white cat. "Gizmo was a stray until she got hit by a car. Someone took her to a shelter and they had to take off her leg to save her. Don't underestimate her, though. She may only have three legs, but she's the boss of her adopted brother, that's for sure."
The way she talks about the cat—Gizmo—is tender, almost reverent. Gizmo presses her head into her owner's hand for pets. I watch them love each other until something warm and furry brushes against my shins. Crouching down, I huff a soft laugh at the ginger and white cat staring up at me through one shrewd eye and scratch him lightly between the ears.
"And this guy? What's his story?"
"I found him on the side of the road in New Mexico with some kind of pellet from a BB gun wedged in his eye socket." Twisting her lips in a grin, she lets Gizmo down. "He's kind of a pain in the ass, but I'm glad I found him when I did. The vet who treated him and yanked out the eye—" She barks a laugh at my sharp wince. "What?"
"It's just...the way you said it," I admit, laughing at myself. I'm not squeamish usually, but I don't like the imagery her words conjured.
She rolls her eyes. "Wuss. Anyway, the vet who removed the eye said infection would have set in and killed Cosmo in days."
Cosmo.
My lips curve into a grin as Cosmo gets bored of me and moseys off after Gizmo, who's hopping around in the beach grass where sand meets gravel.
Cosmo, Gizmo, and…
"So I know the names of your cats," I start, straightening up. "And you know my name…"
She flashes me a brilliant, white smile when I trail off. "Sunday."
Huh?
Snorting, she steps back to lean against the side of the camper. "My name—it's Sunday. Sunday Gray."
.
Until that moment, Sunday was just...a day.
Twenty-four hours.
The end of the week.
As my eyes crinkled and my smile widened, the moon glowed in her soft green eyes and I had no idea...
That this Sunday was different from all the others.
That she was going to turn my life upside-down.
Or that, unlike every other Sunday I'd experienced, she wasn't going to be the end.
She was just the beginning.
****HEADS UP****
Our boy is a goofball but he's also been through some tough stuff. I'm not going to dole out spoilers here, but
this story, Sullivan's story, isn't going to be the smoothest ride. If you're worried, message me. But you're going to
need to buckle up for this one.
