Creed (Unfinished Hero #2)(124)

Knight moved out of the room and as he did, he tagged Rayleigh, swung her up in the air and made her laugh.

No help there either.

A miracle occurred when, fifteen minutes before the food would be set on the table, Kara got off the phone and joined them in the kitchen.

Seventeen minutes after that, the table was covered in food and surrounded by people, some of the kids were sitting on stools at the bar, others were in highchairs.

It was not surprising when Brand piped up and asked for a chance to run his mouth.

“Dad, can I say the blessing?”

Creed jerked up his chin. “Have at it, son.”

Brand, Anya and Charlene all looked to their laps.

Sylvie’s eyes went to Creed.

“Dear God,” Brand started. “Thanks for health and food and family and friends. Oh, and love, I guess. Amen.”

Creed’s firstborn son lifted his head and reached immediately for the potatoes.

Creed watched Sylvie’s shoulders start shaking.

He grinned at his wife.

“Mommy! I wanna sit by Adam!” Jesse shrieked.

Sylvie shot out of her seat.

His wife spoiled the dog and her son.

Creed spoiled the cat and his sweet little Ray.

Both of them, in different ways, spoiled Kara and Brand.

Kara and Brand spoiled all of them.

The perfect family.

Finally.

Creed drew in a breath and grabbed the platter of meat.

* * * * *

One year and nine months later…

Creed sat at the end of their pier, jeans rolled up, feet in the water and he stared at the moonlight glinting on the lake as Sylvie burrowed her shoulder into his side.

He wrapped his arm around her.

When he did, Creed remembered the first time she did that, in the woods when he told her he intended to be Creed.

He felt his lips tip up slightly and curled his wife closer.

She didn’t put her feet in the water. She curved them under her. Since he’d just finished making love to her, she was wearing nothing but her panties and his tee and he remembered the last time he had that, too.

Vividly.

Years, the memory of his Sylvie finally becoming all his at the age of eighteen had been bittersweet.

Now it was just sweet.

She snaked an arm around his gut and shoved closer even as she asked, “Do you think we should get back to the hotel?”

“Kara’s got ‘em, baby,” Creed muttered and he was right. His girl would look after the kids. All of them, even Brand, were with her in their adjoining suite.

“You wanna stay,” she murmured.

Yeah, he did. He always did. Every year, when they came back and he brought his Sylvie out here in the moonlight, he wanted to stay as long as they could.

So they did.

“Yeah,” he answered softly and she snuggled closer.

His Sylvie.

Their spot.

Their lake.

Their pier.

No more bitter, just sweet.

Yeah, his Sylvie, weaving dreams.

He drew in a deep breath and felt every millisecond of its release as he stared at the water, holding his woman pressed close.

He did this a while.

Then he was done doing it and he turned into her. She knew his intent and she tipped her head back to prepare.

Creed took her mouth.

Then he moved her to the blanket he spread on the pier.

There, again, he made love to her.

And when he did, Tucker Creed finally gave Sylvie Creed everything she wanted.

Because when they made love in the moonlight on their pier, he planted inside his wife, his Sylvie, baby number four.

Thus proving, yet again, Tucker Creed could also weave dreams.