Page 103 of The Back Forty
Who?
I glance back at the name.Miller.Why does that last name sound familiar?
I know I shouldn’t keep looking at it, but it’s like I’ve opened Pandora’s box and can’t put the lid back on.
I slide Lawson’s certificate behind the others and carefully reach for Beckham’s. It listsMarshallas his last name.
Why the difference?Why is Lawson's last name listed here as Miller and not Marshall?
Panic swells slowly in my chest, tight and familiar. The kind I’ve worked years to manage, to hide. My fingers fumble to gather up the documents and shove them back into the folder like they’ve burned me.
I lock the safe with trembling hands, my mind spinning with questions I don’t even know how to ask yet.
You weren’t supposed to see that. He didn’t tell you. What does it mean, though? You invaded his privacy.
I bite my lip and try to breathe. There’s got to be an explanation. There always is with him. But still, why does the nameMilleritch at the edge of recognition like something I should already know?
I keep turning it over and over on the ride to the hospital with Beckham’s health insurance ID, nerves buzzing beneath my skin. But the second I see Lawson outside Beckham’s room; it’s like someone cuts the cord on my anxiety and everything falls still.
He pulls me into a hug the moment that I’m close, his warm scent wrapping me in a hug and it takes me back to what we were doing this morning in the hotel room.
“Fuck, it’s good to see you. You smell so good,” he mumbles against my head.
He cups the side of my face and kisses me deeply, grounding. His lips on mine push the noise in my head to the background for now.
“Is he cleared to go home?” I ask when we finally break apart.
Lawson nods, already holding out his hand for me to lace my fingers with his. “Yeah. We were just waiting on the card.”
I pass it to him. If he suspects anything about what I saw in that safe while I was retrieving it, he doesn’t show. His grip is warm and steady as he squeezes my hand then leads me into the room. Beckham’s sitting up in bed, foot propped up in a soft cast, his portable game player in his hands.
“Hey Dani,” he says with a grin. “Dad told me you two are dating now.”
I arch a brow at Lawson. He shrugs, grinning. “It just came out. I figured it was best he knows now.”
I smile. “Well, what do you think? You okay with it?”
Beckham throws me a thumb-up.
“He's more than okay,” Lawson murmurs, pressing another kiss to my lips.
Beckham immediately groans, loud and dramatic. “Gross, dad.”
I laugh, turning just as Melissa walks in with her purse slung over one shoulder and Doctor Walker, Regan’s husband behind her. “Dani!” she says brightly, rushing over to wrap me in a hug.
I’ve always liked Melissa. From the moment I first met her, she’s been warm, easy to talk to and kind anytime that we've interacted. Lawson was up front about their past—the fact that they were never in love, weren't even together when she got pregnant with Beckham. Melissa remarried a few years after Beckham was born to a genuinely good man I’ve met at familyevents. She’s happy. They all are. They're functional, in a way that's beautiful for co-parents. And she’s always accepted me.
“I’m so happy about this,” she says, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
“Mel,” Lawson groans.
She waves him off and hugs me tighter. “I honestly thought he’d be alone forever. Or worse, he’d settle down with some nightmare who I’d have to pretend to like for Beckham’s sake. Butyou?” She beams. “You’re perfect. You two are perfect together. I couldn't have picked a better person to join the family.”
My throat tightens. “That means a lot.”
She nods, eyes shining.
I glance at Lawson. He’s watching me with that look—that warm, open gaze that always makes me feel seen and chosen. And looking at him now, I realize that I’m in love with him.
