Page 115 of That: Taylor & Brooks

The summer air was warm and sweet, with the scent of barbecue and fresh-cut grass. Brooks and Taylor’s backyard was filled with laughter and conversation. Their spacious, cozy home had become the natural gathering place for their circle, a testament to the life they’d built in just one short year as a family.

Today was no ordinary cookout. It was their Denvi Girls, first birthday party. Streamers and balloons in soft pinks and golds adorned the deck, and a table loaded with gifts stood beneath the shade of the oak tree. In the center of it all was a three-tier cake for the guest and a smash cake for the birthday girl. Brooks said she didn’t need all that sugar, but Taylor wasn’t hearing it.

“She only turns one once,” Taylor had said, and that had been that.

Brooks worked the grill with practiced ease, spatula in one hand, his other arm cradling Denver against his chest. At one year old, she was all curious eyes and grabby hands, a perfect blend of both her parents, stealing Brooks’ deep brown eyes and Taylor’s heart-shaped face. They’d made a beautiful child. She was their heart outside of the body.

The “Birthday Princess” crown on her head kept sliding down, but every time it did, Brooks would gently adjust it, earning a toothy grin from his daughter.

“I still can’t believe aunties baby is a year old,” Blake said, appearing at Brooks’ side with a plate for the burgers he was flipping.

“Tell me about it,” Brooks agreed, pressing a kiss to Denver’s forehead. “She growing too fast. Walkingalready and talking up a storm. I can’t take it.”

“Da-da-da!” Denver babbled on cue, patting Brooks’ cheek with a wet hand.

“See what I mean?” Brooks grinned, the pride in his eyes unmistakable. “My baby the smartest kid in Coupeville.”

“I feel the same way about EJ, I swear every day I cry because he’s not a baby anymore.”

“Speaking of, my dawg still sleep?” Brooks asked about his nephew. Brooks never thought parenting and being an uncle could be so satisfying. But he loved every second of it. Whenever he looked around, he felt like he had arrived. He’d made it.

“Yeah, thank God. Him and his daddy worked on my nerves today. Whatever his daddy does, he gotta do it too. It’s a mess.”

“Man, you hard on my boy. Let them be. With your hating ass.”

“Whatever.”

∞∞∞

Across the yard, Taylor emerged from the house carrying a tray of drinks, her sundress flowing around her legs as she navigated the grass in sandals. Her hair was longer now, falling past her shoulders in body waves, and the afternoon sun caught the diamond on her left hand, sending prisms of light dancing.

The real engagement had come the day they’d brought Denver home from the hospital, Brooks on one knee beside the crib where they’d just laid their sleeping daughter, the ring a perfect oval diamond setin platinum. Taylor cried, nodding yes before he’d even finished asking.

They’d married six months later in a ceremony that blended both their worlds, held in her parents’ church but with touches that honored Brooks too. Reverend Bradshaw had performed the service with tears in his eyes, officially welcoming Brooks into the family he’d already claimed with his actions.

Now, watching his wife move through their yard, greeting guests and radiating joy, Brooks felt that familiar pressure in his chest. The one that came whenever he allowed himself to really take in how much his life had changed, how much he’d gained.

“There’s my birthday girl!” Taylor called out, setting down her tray to reach for Denver when Jacques brought her over. She lunged toward her Taylor with a squeal of delight, nearly toppling out of Jacques’ arms in her enthusiasm.

“Hey Denvi girl. Your mama’s got you.”

Taylor pressed her nose to Denver’s cheek, inhaling the sweet baby scent that still lingered.

“Happy birthday, my love,” she murmured.

Brooks appeared at Taylor’s side, his hand finding the small of her back in that familiar, comforting gesture. “The foods ready when everyone is,” he said, letting his touch linger.

“Perfect,” Taylor nodded, adjusting Denver on her hip. “I think we’re just waiting for Paige.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Paige’s voice called from the side gate. She hurried in, a giant gift bag swinging from one arm, her other hand clutching her phone. “Emergency at work. You know how it is.”

Taylor turned, her face lighting up at the sight ofher friend. “Paige! We were just about to eat.”

“Perfect timing then,” Paige grinned, setting down her oversized gift. She looked uncharacteristically flustered, her normally impeccable appearance slightly disheveled, hair swept back in a hasty ponytail, cheeks flushed. “Oh my God, is this the birthday princess? Come to Auntie Paige!”

As Paige cooed over Denver, Taylor caught the subtle ping of a text notification. Paige’s eyes darted to her phone screen, and a smile, private and telling, ghosted across her lips before she quickly pocketed the device.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Brooks. “Everything okay?” She asked innocently.

---