Page 1 of One More Kiss

Full of Grace

An Austin After Dark Book & Oblivion series Novella

Alexa Padgett

Jasmine

Certain people paid penance.I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to stave off the quivering of my jaw. I settled my fingers against the tombstone, wishing, as I always did, that it was

Jensen’s chest—or cheek, hand, thigh, hair, anything—that I caressed with my fingers.

“I miss you, my love, and I always will. How different life could have been…” I sighed. “Thirty-five years. More of a lifetime than you lived.” He’d died at twenty-five in a fighter jet accident while in the Air Force. He’d never known I was pregnant, which always bothered me. I inhaled slowly as I let the old ache wash over me. I’d lived so much more of my life without Jensen than with him. While each milestone remained a challenge, I persevered, hoping for atonement I didn’t deserve.

I forced the tears back and opened my eyes, staring up at the dull gray sky. December in Austin was depressing.

Or maybe I was depressed. I rose with a grimace before I headed across the cemetery toward Laurence’s plot. Achy joints and clenched muscles eased as I walked away from Jensen, my one love, the father of my boys. I dropped down, grim-faced, to clean the weeds and dead leaves from my husband Laurence’s grave.

Jensen had been Laurence’s older brother. And the two of them couldn’t have been more different. Jensen was a good man. Kind, thoughtful, if a bit stiff. Laurence loved me wildly with grand romantic gestures…in the beginning. Then, once he realized I’d never adore him, as I had his brother, he’d changed, becoming bitter, ugly.

Laurence’s cruelty manifested toward my son, Cam. Carter—Cam’s identical twin—was quiet, thoughtful, even cautious as a child. Easier for Laurence to ignore. But Cam was bold, brash, vibrant. Just like Jensen, his father. I smiled.

“I’m still so conflicted about you,” I whispered, eying Laurence’s grave marker. It had begun to weather but hadn’t faded yet to the soft, smooth white of Jensen’s. Time did many things to granite and marble. To my skin and bones—to my family.

We were still healing from Laurence’s wounds and lies. Well, my relationship with my children and theirs between them. Having their own children hastened those changes along.

But I wasn’t willing to forgive my part in my family’s near-destruction. I’d brought Laurence deeper into my boys’ lives, made him their father. I’d given Laurence a daughter, my beautiful smart Katie Rose who he’d cherished once he’d given up on me. She never saw his cruelty.

But he’d hurt my Cam intentionally, just as he flaunted his affairs, trying to…what?

“What did you want from me?” I’d never know.

I slashed my hand over the grass, shock and pain causing me to suck in a breath when something caught the skin of my palm. I cradled the cut to my chest instinctively. With careful fingers, I plucked the small enamel pin from between the tall, thick blades of St. Augustine grass. I ran my thumb over it, a small, bittersweet smile forming.

“Your daughter loves you, Laurence,” I said. “To her, you were wonderful.” I turned the pin over, seeing the tiny words there in gold: World’s Best Daddy.

I pressed the sharp tack back into the solid soil.

“And you gave me her. How can I not be grateful for that?” I licked my chapped lips. The cold had descended and with it the shrieking winds that dried me out, leaving me a fragile husk.

“But you were an asshole, Laurence Grace.”

“Can’t fault your logic or your language.”

I turned, shading my eyes. “Heya, Cam. I didn’t expect you up and around.”

He bent, offering me his hand. I took it, glad to get off my aching knees. He kept his warm palm wrapped around mine until I was solidly rooted and steady.

“Cash wasn’t much on sleeping. And I thought the walk down to this end of the property would do us some good.” He dipped his head toward the toddler chasing a leaf toward us. I brightened at the sight of my grandson. He squealed and plowed into my shins, yelling, “Gamma!”

Love blossomed, richer and sweeter than any chocolate, as I brushed his hair off his forehead. He was warm from his exertions, his skin still baby-soft. “How’s my boy?”

“Good. Eat pie.”

I quirked a brow at Cam. “Y’all wanted pie?”

Cam shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Yours is the best, Mama.”

I laughed and doing so felt good. Good to be able to haul Cash onto my hip and wrap my free arm around my oldest boy. Good to feel our connection, the love flowing between us.

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