Page 151 of Sinful Daddies

Every time I catch Adrian’s eye, I see the heat simmering beneath his priestly composure, the internal battle he still fights between his faith and his desire for me.

Every time Marcus grins at me, I remember the strength of his hands, the way he makes me feel safe and wanted and wild all at once.

Finally, the last customers trickle out and an at-home nurse has taken Rose back to our house, and it’s just us.

The five of us.

Charlie, Adrian, Marcus, Elijah, and Michael.

We collapse around a corner table, exhausted and happy. Michael sleeps peacefully in Marcus’s arms, his dark hair curling against his forehead, his tiny fist curled against Marcus’s chest.

He has Adrian’s intensity in those gray eyes, Marcus’s mischievous smile, and Elijah’s musical laugh.

We never determined biological paternity, and it doesn’t matter. He has three fathers who love him fiercely, who each bring something unique to his life.

Adrian sits beside me, his reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviews the day’s receipts, and I lean against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent.

Elijah has moved from the piano to sit across from us, his foot finding mine under the table. Marcus shifts Michael carefully, reaching out to brush a streak of frosting from my hair, his touch lingering.

This is what redemption looks like. Not perfection. Not conventional. Just love in all its messy, beautiful forms.

I’m not the desperate girl who stole from a church anymore. I’m Charlie Davis, baker, mother, beloved. And that’s more than enough.