belly. "You should. This baby doesn't have a father," I say, feeling my eyes fill with tears again. "But at least, it could have three uncles."
That gets them the hardest, and suddenly my burly-ass brothers are all choking up, standing in their tattoo parlor getting emotional.
"Aww hell, Sweetie, we'll make it up to you, we swear," Porter says.
I look over at Cheryl, who seems to have softened over the apology.
"How do you plan on making it up to her?" she asks them, doing a good job as my backup.
Nixon reaches behind the counter and pulls out a bin filled with envelopes. He sets it on the counter. "We could, uh, start by giving you these."
"What is it?" I ask, stepping closer.
"It's letters. From the sailor," Smith tells me, his eyes filled with regret. "Looks like there is one for every day he's been gone."
Tears fall down my cheeks, as I reach for one out at random, pulling the paper from the envelope. I read, my heart pounding and hope soaring.
He felt what I felt.
Saw what I saw.
Knows what I know.
That we were meant to be together.
Dear Sweetie,
It wasn't supposed to happen that way. You and I, we were meant for more than a fling. More than a one-night stand, a half-hearted anything. Us, we were meant to set sail.
I said I didn't want to be tethered to anything, tied down.
But I was wrong. Crazy, right? To change my tune after such a short time?
But I like crazy. In fact, I love it.
Just like I love you.
Your anchor,
Sampson Stone
Sampson
Most times when we get in port, I step off the boat and stretch my legs, feeling the earth beneath them. Then I start walking toward the nearest bar, hoping a drink will wash away my heartache.
Today, though, is different. This isn't just any port. Any town.
This is my chance to get Sweetie back, once and for all. Convince her I don't want to be a lone ranger. I want to fucking be her hero.
Six months is a long ass time to be away from the girl you want. But now, I'm here and I want to find her, chase her down--beg her for another chance--and I'll stop at nothing. Her brothers can beat the shit out of me. She can tell me no, over and over again, and I'll keep trying.
She is worth it.
Worth everything.
When I get off the boat, though, I feel like I must be goddamn dreaming.
Because this? This is not what I expect.
She's here. She, with her dark hair and bright eyes and smile so damn wide it sets my heart on fire.
She's here, her eyes are on me, and I swear, it's like I've known this sweet thing all my life. She's holding in front of her a sign that reads ‘WELCOME HOME, DADDY’.
I move toward her through the throng of people, needing her in my arms more than I've ever needed anything before.
"Sampson?" she calls out as if just trying out the words on her lips.
I nod, tears in my goddamn eyes, choking down my emotions as I reread the words on her banner.
"It's me, Sweetie."
"That's your real name?"
She nods. "Yeah." I see tears are falling down her face and I am close enough to pull her into my arms, but I hold back, ever so slightly, pausing in this moment because I know once I kiss her lips, my life will never be the same. I need to memorize this. The sun shining down on us, the blue skies, the salty sea air, and the hope in her eyes.
In both our eyes.
"You came here for me?" I ask, clenching my jaw. Daddy.
She nods. "We're having a baby, Sampson."
Then she drops the poster and I see her in all her glory. She's in a red dress, with a blue scarf dotted with tiny white stars. She is my goddamn American dream.
"Oh, girl," I say, stepping closer so there is no space dividing us anymore. Her perfectly round belly is the only thing between us. I drop to my knees, and I wrap my arms around her waist, kissing our baby.
My own father was a sack of shit and I left home to start over. I don't know what it means to be a dad, but I know what it means to be a man.
And together, we can figure out how to be a family.
"You get my letters?" I ask, looking up to meet my girl’s eye.
She nods, her sweet face streaked with tears. "Just yesterday."
"And you read