The Last Letter(72)

“Nope, I’m just a volunteer. Keeps me on my toes, and it’s not like there’s a ton of family law business here in Telluride.” He shrugged. “Kind of like you, just doing it for fun, now.”

Beckett nodded slowly.

“So I guess you two know each other,” I said lightly, even though the moment felt anything but. “Thank you, Mark, for meeting us on a Saturday night. I know you and Tess have date night.”

“No problem. She’s actually in Durango for the weekend with the kids. Trust me, I’d much rather be here with you than having dinner with my mother-in-law. Now what’s up?”

“Want to fill him in on your proposal?” I asked Beckett, and he took the reins.

It took a glass of wine and all of dinner, but he explained everything as thoroughly as possible, from the treatments, the bills, the insurance, to his idea of marriage.

Ella Gentry.

I mentally smacked that picture out of my mind. I’d gotten married on a whim once, and a second time was definitely not in the cards. I didn’t care how good his name sounded attached to mine.

“Do you want to marry Ella?” he asked Beckett as the waitress cleared our plates.

“Would you want to marry a woman who had no interest in marrying you?” Beckett answered.

My head snapped to look at him. No interest? It wasn’t lack of interest in Beckett, it was an overwhelming interest in my sanity and…logic.

“But I would, if that’s what she wan—needed,” Beckett finished.

Great. Now I was the damsel. All I needed was a giant light-up sign above my head that flashed with the words “in distress,” and my life would be complete.

“Okay, then let’s not push that option,” Mark said, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “No one wants an arranged marriage here. So, Ella. Now that I have a good idea of what’s going on, it’s your turn. On the phone you mentioned an idea?”

“Right.” I pivoted in my chair to look at Beckett. “What you’re offering is to basically make Maisie your daughter? Right? Even if it’s only on paper?”

“Yes. Colt, too…as my son, obviously. Legally.”

Just the words sent a spiraling warmth through my belly, or maybe that was the wine. Either way, it gave me the courage to continue.

“I’m a little damaged.”

He quirked an eyebrow as if to say tell me something I don’t know.

“And sometimes that damage blinds me. It gets in my way and holds me back. And I’m okay with that. But I’m not okay with it hurting Maisie or Colt. So, if there was a way for you to be their legal father, giving them all the same protections that being my husband would…without me being your wife, would you want that?”

“Not marrying you?” His brows drew inward.

“Removing me, and my damage, from the equation,” I clarified before dropping my volume to a whisper only Beckett could hear. “As someone wise once told me, it’s not about not wanting you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Would you want the kids if I wasn’t part of the deal?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“Forever?”

“Always.”

That warmth in my stomach spread, combining with the love that burned so brightly in my chest. I half expected to light up like a Care Bear.

I forced my eyes away from Beckett’s to where Mark sat, his gaze darting between us, his mind already at work.

“Can he adopt them? Without marrying me?”

Beckett drew in a sharp breath.

“Is that something you’d be willing to do?” Mark asked Beckett.

“Yes.” Again, the answer came instantly.

“Have you thought about what that would really mean?” Mark asked me.

“Yes. I know it puts the kids at some risk.”

I felt Beckett tense next to me, like a crackle of energy in the air.

“It could,” Mark agreed. “It would be like having another parent—there would be support to consider, visitation, custody rights, both physical and decision-making. It’s basically sharing your kids with him. But it protects them more, too. The moment he adopts them, they’ll be covered by his insurance no matter the status of your…relationship. The military will always see them as his.”

“Even if he’s out?”

Beckett’s jaw tensed. “Yep. You could even sue me for support if you wanted.”

“I would never sue you for support.”

“I wouldn’t care if you did.”

“Right, but you’re still giving up a portion of your rights, Ella.”

My hackles bristled. The twins had always been mine, and only mine.

“Can we lessen the risk?”

He leaned back, continuing his appraisal of us both. “Sure. You’d just have to draw up a custody agreement to be signed immediately after. You could say that you have sole physical custody, he has zero rights to visitation, but you should share decision-making, or it looks pretty darn fraudulent. You wouldn’t even have to file it unless there’s an issue. Just in case someone comes looking.”

“Is it fraud?” I needed to know. I’d probably still go through with it—Maisie’s life was worth some jail time—but I had to know. “I mean, the marriage would seem way more fraudulent to me. If neither of us want to marry the other, and we’re living in separate houses with separate names, then that’s more fraud than Beckett wanting to be there for the kids, right?”