Mine To Honor (Southern Wedding Series Book 7) (Southern Weddings)

“Big bad wolf Levi.” I roll my lips as he walks away from me to the kitchen. “The same Levi who rescued a cat from a tree.” I watch him as he walks away from me. His dress pants fit him perfectly, like always, and the white dress shirt is wrinkled in the back, but you can feel that it’s soft. I lean my head back on the couch as Cici just stares at him also, a dollop of drool falling from her lower lip. I quickly grab the throw blanket that I now have all over the house for this reason here.

He turns the water on at the sink and looks back at me. “That fucking cat was all the way at the top of the tree.” He pushes down on the white soap cap, the foam soap filling his hand as he lathers them. “I almost broke my face.”

I can’t stop the laugh that roars through me. It’s been a crazy week and the last thing I’ve done all this week was laugh. But with Levi here in the house, Cici looking at me with a smile, and finally us having passed the first inspection of CPS, I finally am able to let go for just a little bit. “It wasn’t that tall.”

He rinses his hands under the water, glaring at me as he does. “I didn’t see you climbing up to help me.” He turns the water off, grabbing a dish towel from the side of the sink. “No, not you. You were there filming the whole thing.”

I snort and get up. “I was doing it so we could go viral and maybe, just maybe, end up on Oprah or maybe even Ellen. Also, didn’t you get laid for a full six months telling girls that story and then showing them the video? I think what you mean to say is, ‘Thank you, Eva, for your amazing cinematography skills.’”

He presses his hips to the counter, his glare on me still strong, but the minute Cici screeches in my arms, he looks over at her and the look is gone. In its place is a warm look, his eyes look like a warm ocean after a sunny day. “Is your aunt a funny one?” he asks Cici when I get closer to him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His eyes come to me and they stay the same. “How about I try to cook dinner?” He looks around the kitchen.

I chuckle. “You made me Kraft mac and cheese once,” I remind him, “and how did that work out for us?”

“I was going by the instructions.” He puts his hands on his hips. “It said to boil for seven or eight minutes or until tender.”

“And how long did you boil them for?” I tilt my head to the side as both Cici and I look at him.

“Ten minutes,” he answers softly.

“And what happened after that?” I roll my lips after his jaw gets tight.

“The noodles fell apart.” His teeth clench as he says this. He then grabs one of his buttons at his wrist and unbuttons it, before rolling it up to his elbow. “And then it turned to mush once I added in the milk and cheese.” He repeats the action with the second arm until the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

“So you still want to attempt to cook for us?” I ask.

“I can order something.” He snaps his fingers. “That way you don’t have to leave me in charge of the child and we are both happy.”

“I’ve been eating out all week long,” I tell him. “I just want a nice home-cooked meal.”

“Fine,” he agrees, stepping to me, “but the minute I say switch.” He grabs her under her arms, bringing her to him awkwardly. “We switch.”

“Like in wrestling?” I ask, walking to the sink and washing my own hands. “Are you hungry?” I ask as I walk over to the fridge.

“I haven’t eaten since I grabbed a sandwich at the airport,” he admits as he holds Cici to his chest, moving side to side, bouncing up and down.

“So how was your week?” I ask as I open the fridge, grabbing a red and yellow pepper, an onion, and the Italian sausage. Placing it on the counter beside the cutting board, I turn to grab a couple of potatoes.

“It was uneventful,” he says to me as Cici squirms in his arms. “I think we might have to switch.” He looks at me, then down at Cici.

“Why don’t you go over there?” I point toward the floor mat. “She likes to play with the square toy.” I point at the toy in the middle of the mat. “She doesn’t sit up too well on her own, but she can sit in the middle of your legs.”

“Okay,” he replies, walking over to the mat and trying to decide how he’s going to sit down with Cici. I peel the potatoes the whole time, looking over to see Levi.

“We got this,” he assures Cici. “Maybe we don’t got this,” he recants as he gets to his knees, “but we are going to try.” I can’t help but smile as I dice the potatoes and place them in a pot of water before walking back over to where the peppers and onion are as I slice them. “We did it.” I hear Levi say and look over to see him smiling down at Cici as she sits in the middle of his legs. He reaches forward to grab the square activity toy that she loves. She smacks her hands down on the square before reaching out and grabbing the side of one square, as she presses the button. “That’s red,” he tells her and I can’t help but smile. “What’s that sound?” he asks gently. “That’s a cow.”

I turn around and grab a pan, placing it on the stove and then adding olive oil to it. I look over again to make sure he’s okay. I see Cici look up at him as he tells her all the colors on the square toy. He could literally be reciting the phone book and she would be interested in him. I turn back, tossing the peppers and onions in the pan before grabbing the knife and slicing the sausage. I’m beyond exhausted, the past week has been crazy almost twenty-hour days. After working at the salon all day long, I would rush over to Lisa’s place, and every night I would put Cici in her bed while I would work through packing up her place. Usually she slept the night, but then she would wake up crying and calling out for Mama. I didn’t know if sleeping in the house made her think Lisa was going to be there or not. I debated not sleeping there, but I wanted to get it over with.

I know I should have gotten someone to do it. Everyone I know told me the same thing over and over again, but I just felt like I needed to do it. I had to do it for her and for Cici. The hardest thing I ever did was going through her clothes. Packing her stuff, I did put a box aside for Cici for when she got older. It was the outfit she wore when she was christened, knowing that the pictures would be forever in her room. The outfit she would always be in, and the minute I saw it, it took me an hour to pick myself up off the floor. All her jewelry is put aside, waiting for me to find the time to open a safety-deposit box for when Cici wants it. There is no way I can chance losing that.

I thought cleaning out her clothes was hard. It was nothing like cleaning out her bedside night tables. You don’t know what you keep in there, but Lisa had pictures of the three of us in there. She even had a picture of our mother. She had so many little books stacked in one drawer, I thought they were books until I picked up one and it fell to the floor. It was as if someone knocked it out of my hand. When I bent over to pick it up, I saw that it was a journal. Lisa’s journal, the date entry at the top. My eyes roamed the page for a good couple of minutes before I shut it. There must have been over twenty of them in the drawer and another box full. They were also going in the safety-deposit box for Cici. When she was old enough, I would give her the key and she could do what she wanted with them.

“What is she cooking?” I hear Levi’s voice, so I look over at him. “Whatever it is, it sure does smell good.” He looks down at Cici. “Are you hungry?”

Cici just babbles back at him. “I know, me, too, girl, me, too.” I can’t help but laugh as I toss the sausage into the pan and stir everything together before placing the cover half on it.

I move over to the freezer, opening it. “Should we do chicken and carrots with peas?” I ask over my shoulder. “Or broccoli, carrots, and tofu?”

“Eww,” Levi says. “Pick A, girl,” he whispers in her ear, “pick A.”

“If she doesn’t eat tofu today, she is going to eat it tomorrow.” I laugh at him as I walk over, grabbing another pot to cook her food.

It takes me a good thirty minutes before all the food is done. “Can you put her in her chair?” I ask Levi, who nods at me. He grabs her around her chest with one arm as he pushes himself up.

He walks over to her chair beside the table, the one I unpacked this afternoon. “Um,” he ponders, “how do I?” I walk over to him, taking Cici from him.

“You just need to…” I place her in the chair as she slides down on her bum, before I buckle her in. I look over at him and he grimaces.

“I’m never doing that; you can hurt her legs.”

“I promise you, I’m not hurting her,” I assure him as I put a bib on her.

“I’ll do the plates,” he states to me, “you feed her.” He points at her as he walks over and prepares us two plates. The two of us sit with Cici between us in her chair. He watches my every single move as I feed her.

When she starts to get cranky, I look over and see that it’s almost six thirty, Cici is a creature of habit. So I know I have thirty minutes to get her washed and in bed. “I’m going to go and give her a bath,” I announce, taking the bib off and placing it on the high chair.

I walk up the steps toward the bathroom and I’m shocked when I feel him right behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask as I turn on the lights.

“I think I should know this, too,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he leans against the doorjamb. “What if they ask me about this?” I point at the bathtub.

“Well,” I start to tell him as I grab the white towel, placing it on the rug before laying her down on it. “The first thing is to put her down.” I point at Cici. “And then start the water.” I reach for the yellow duck in the corner that tells you the temperature. “Toss this in there to make sure that it’s not too hot. Then you add a couple of the other toys.” I point at the net that is in the corner drying out the toys from the night before.

He stands up. “Wait,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “What temp should it be?”

I laugh at him. “Between ninety-five and a hundred.” I shrug my shoulder. “You can feel it with your hand, it shouldn’t be too hot, then you undress her.” I move back over to Cici, who is now kicking her feet and turning over. “Which is easier said than done,” I joke, turning her over. Levi comes in and squats down beside her.

“Look at the phone,” he tells Cici, handing her the phone, shocking me as she takes it from him and babbles, but it gives me enough time to get her undressed. “Once she’s undressed, you just place her in the tub.” I grab the phone from her and hand it back to Levi before placing her in the tub.

“Okay, I think I can handle that. I’m going to go clean up the kitchen and I’ll be back for after-bath talk.” I nod at him, sitting beside the tub washing Cici.

“Wash, wash, wash,” I singsong as I wash her. “Scrub, scrub, scrub.” Her hands slap the water, making it go everywhere. “Splash, splash, splash.”

I take her out of the bath and wrap her in the white towel before entering her bedroom. It was a spare bedroom, but as of this morning, it’s now hers.

“Holy crap.” I hear from beside me. “Is this all hers?” Levi asks as he walks into the room.

“Yeah.” I walk to the changing table. “They picked it up this morning and I spent all day making sure it was just like home,” I inform him as I grab the lavender cream. He stands beside me as I get her ready for bed.

Cici starts to get cranky by the time I’m buttoning up her pj’s. “Here, rock her while I go get her bottle.” I hand her to him and he walks to the corner where the rocking chair sits.

I rush downstairs, seeing the kitchen spotless, all the food put away. I grab a bottle and press the button. The best thing ever invented was this bottle machine. You put in the powdered formula, making you a warm bottle every time. It’s a Keurig but for kids. I turn off the lights before walking upstairs. “And then when we met, she fell madly in love with me.” He looks up at me, a smile filling his face. “I’m telling her how we met.” I can’t help but roll my eyes, trying not to smile at him.

“Stop filling her head.” I walk over to her and she reaches up for me when she sees her bottle. “Get lost so I can tell her the real story.”

“Good night, girl,” he says, kissing her cheek. “I’m going to go and get a shower.” I just nod, sitting down in the chair.

“Are you ready for bed?” I ask Cici, laying her on her side. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” I tell her as I give her the bottle. “That Levi, he’s a charmer, the key is not to fall for it.” I rub her cheek as I rock her. Her eyes close as soon as she finishes her bottle. I get up and place her in her crib. “Good night, baby girl,” I whisper, turning on the white noise machine before walking out.

I walk into my bedroom, collapsing on my bed. My body feels like it hasn’t slept in over five years. I literally can’t move, even if I tried. I’m about to slip out of my pants when the door to the bathroom opens and Levi comes out dressed in shorts. “She down?” he asks and I nod at him, my mouth suddenly dry. I must really be fucking tired if the only thing I can do is stare at his chest. Also, when did he start working out like this?

All I do is watch him walk around the bed to the other side, tossing the throw pillows to the floor. “Um,” is the only thing that comes out of my mouth. My heart beats really fast as I sit up.

He throws the covers back and then slides into bed. “I’m exhausted,” he says.

I jump out of bed as if someone told me that it was on fire, or you threw ice water on me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Going to bed.” He fixes the pillows under his head.

“In here?” I point at the floor as my voice goes really, really high.

Levi sits up in the bed. “Where else would I sleep?”

“I don’t know?” I throw up my arms. “On the couch?” I point at the door toward where the couch is.

“For a year?” He is the one who is hollering now and all I can do is roll my eyes at him.

“We can also get you a blow-up bed.” I try to think of where we would put this blow-up bed.

“For a year?” Again, he yells. “A year! You want me to sleep on a couch or a blow-up bed. I will remind you that—”

I hold up my hand. “Fine,” I relent, huffing out, “but no fishy stuff.” I point at him, walking back to the bed.

“Do you want to put a pillow between us?” he asks once I get into bed next to him.

“Obviously.” I grab one of the throw pillows and place it between us.

“This bed is so small.”

“It’s a queen size,” I tell him, fixing my own pillows, feeling suddenly like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.

“We should upgrade it to a king size,” he suggests and all I can do is look at him.

“We should, shouldn’t we?” I say sarcastically.

“Okay, fine, I’ll upgrade it.” He lifts the covers and then tries to make himself comfy.

“Well then, I want a memory foam one.” I look at him as he chuffs.

“This isn’t even memory foam.” He stops moving to look at me.

“Well, if we’re upgrading, might as well go big, no?” I try not to laugh as I turn the light off in the room. I lie on my side, looking away from him as he huffs and puffs from his side of the bed. “I’m happy you’re home, honey.” Secretly laughing, but the bed moves.

I look over my shoulder at him as he turns his back on me. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles.