Chapter 58: Nice Guys Are The Future

I decided to split this chapter, and go ahead and give you guys an update. In this one, Adams FINALLY gets his birthday gifts. Barbecue and fun with Leed in the next chapter!!!

Adam

I'm tryna control the face like Trace, but I can't fight the grin spreading. I'm sure I look more like a kid at Christmas than a rock star right now.

"You bought me a boat?" I whisper to the Beauty beside me, who's giving me her killer stare. We're enjoying our leisurely brunch, and Mac's chewing her eggs with determination—determination to keep her mouth full of food so she doesn't have to answer my question.

She shrugs and takes another bite of fresh corn tortilla. She's not fooling me—my dad's insistence that we all get on our swim gear before I receive my belated birthday gifts can only mean one thing...somebody got me something that floats. My money is on Mac and a couple of sweet Sea-doo's. It would make sense—she knows her riding on the bike with me damn near gives me a heart—attack now, but I wouldn't mind going fast and getting a little wet with my girl hugged up behind me. The landing from a tipover is much softer in the water.

"C'mon, Shortcake. Tell me the deets."

"No. You'll find out soon enough." Her expression is bored but I see her fingers wiggling in excitement on her glass of grapefruit juice. Yeah, definitely a boat.

"Ooooohhhh——kaaaaaay! Brunch is over!!!!" I yell grabbing my plate and Mac's. "Dudes on clean-up. Women—get all your young-uns suited and slathered with sunscreen!!! Let's go, let's go!" I'm yelling through the kitchen and dining room at all my brothers-in-law and sisters. All the Soundcrush dudes jump up, too, grinning and stacking plates like madmen.

"Oh my Lord, that's your grandmother's china. Leed—be careful!" my mom rises and tries to take his stack of plates.

"Relax, Mama Joe" Leed drawls at her. "I am very attentive to pretty things. I'll handle these plates just like I do my fangirls." Everybody laughs.

"Hand-wash," my mother warns with a pointed finger as she backs down the hall to change for the lake.

I wrap Mac in my arms and plant a chaste kiss on her temple as she tries to escape up the kitchen stairs. It's hard for me to let Mac go for even a little while—even to go upstairs to change.

We are entwined. Drawing closer and closer together, spreading into each other, our love growing more lush and vibrant with each day in the sun.

Me and this woman and our child. Perhaps not One, but wrapped up so tight we can't tell the difference. She's right...a marriage ceremony seems...a little less important, now. We already have what we need to thrive.

"The sooner you let me go, the sooner you get your gift," she teases.

I pull her closer to me, pressing our foreheads together. "You are my greatest gift. I'll never let go."

I feel the soft explosion of her sigh, and her long expressive fingers curl against my back, gripping me, showing me that she feels the same. But my wicked, very bad, naughty girl says, "Well, if we are never moving from this spot, it's too bad really. I've never had sex on a boat."

I pull her head back to meet my gaze. "It's big enough for that?" I ask with a grin.

She shrugs a shoulder and bats her eyes at me.

I pull her head to my ear. "For the record, I've never had sex on a boat, either." Not technically one hundred percent accurate...I've had sex on a yacht that was practically the size of a small cruise ship, but this obviously has to be a different class of boat than that, so I don't feel like it's a lie.

I know how Mac is always seeking some fabled firsts for us, like she's longing to remake our history, and paint over past. I care about the past but not in the way she does—the other people, or our own rocky history, doesn't make me feel bad. It was valuable. It got us to where we are now. Without it, we wouldn't know how rare and precious and worth fighting for we really are.

Something tells me we aren't completely over the hurdles. Something tells me the biggest challenges are ahead, but I won't lose sight of the most precious gifts. I won't let go.

Except, for right now. So Mac can go put on a swimsuit and get the satisfaction of giving me this boat. I wonder if it's the first time she's ever felt what I've known for awhile—that giving is better than receiving. You learn that, when love is the main thing that fills your heart.

"Well let's get this gift-giving going," I tell her. "The sooner we get rid of the family, the sooner we get that first."

She giggles as I release her. She slips from my grasp and pelts up the stairs. I admire her pretty hair swinging and her muscular calves as she runs to the top, then I whip around to make sure Leed doesn't ruin my mother's day.

We don't take the Gators straight down to the lake. My dad leads the caravan of rugged golf carts way around by the North Fields and Alex's house...out onto the Northernmost part of the Heartley Land—the large point that spreads out like a finger into the lake. This land would make an excellent small orchard, but the Heartley's have never farmed it, even though we've owned this land for a hundred and fifty years. In fact, we used to own the land under the lake, but it was sold to the TVA when they started the project to fill this man-mad lake back in the forties.

This parcel of land...it's some of the most valuable land on the lake. Large enough to be parceled into a subdivision for luxury homes. Over the years, real estate developers have offered my dad millions for it, but he's never been interested in selling. He always said this parcel was the future of the farm...meaning that if the farm operations got into trouble, it was a fall-back plan—to sell this land and keep the farm going. This finger of land is the farm's safety net.

Tonight, however, it's the site where the barbecue will be, because of the amazing sunset view it affords over the west water. I'm not surprised we've headed over here—I'm sure my mom wants to check in with the event coordinator. Dozens of people are at work—erecting the temporary stage, the food tents, staging the firepits and adirondack chairs. The party is a generous gift from all my siblings.

To my dad doesn't stop his gator at the staff tent—he drives to the edge of the point. Everyone piles out and waits expectantly—it's then that I start to suspect there was some reason for riding out to the point other than checking on the party.

My dad beckons me forward, calling my attention behind us, to where the sun would rise in the east.

"Adam, have you ever been over here on the point at sunrise?" he asks mildly, as he puts a hand on my shoulder.

I think back to my childhood. Surely I have—I've been all over our land at all times of day, but I can't recall ever seeing the sunrise over the water from this point.

"Not sure. Maybe not," I admit.

He smiles. "Well, son, I hope you'll get the chance before you leave. A man should see the sunrise on his land." My mom pulls a large manila envelop from nowhere, and my dad passes it to me. I pull out the stiff paper. It's a deed to this land, ceding it to me.

"No," I whisper. "You always said this land was the farm's safety net..."

"No, I said this is the farm's future," he smiles. "Your sisters aren't interested in operating a farm. And I know you aren't interested in the daily operations, but you have always been invested in the legacy, and you'll also have the resources to make sure it's properly managed into the future. And until the day you take it over, maybe you are interested in having a home among family. It's tradition, after all, for us to gift our children with their own land, when they are ready for it."

I'm overwhelmed. I look to my mom, my sisters. This is not the tradition. My sisters got their land as wedding gifts-a blessing of their union, a foundation to build upon. My mom and dad are doing more than giving me a deed. They are giving me and Mac their blessing, whether we are married or not.

"Dad, I...I don't know what to say..."

He shrugs mildly. "A simple thank you usually works."

"Thank you. This...I...I'll make you proud, Dad. I promise." I mean it. Maybe I never meant anything I said to my dad more.

"You always have, son." He slaps my back and walks over to Mackenna.

"What do you think, MacKenna? Do you like the view?"

Her smile is so sweet and her eyes are brimming with unshed tears as she nods and walks a little ways away. I watch her, her long gauzy dress whipping in the wind. She bend down and digs her strong fingers into the earth, scrabbling up a handful of the hard packed earth. She plays with it in her hands, turning round and round.

Then she looks over her shoulder at me—the same way she looked in the dream I've had twice. The exact same expression of joy and mirth and knowing and unspoken question.

I know exactly what she's thinking, even though we've never talked about it. Never had any reason to talk about it. But she looks at me, and I look at her, and nothing needs to be said between us. Her raised eyebrows and my nod is enough.

"Ty, how'd you like to build us a house?" My eyes never leave Mac's face. That right there—her smile as I say those words—is all the breaking dawn I'll ever need. The actual sunrise here is just gravy.

A wave of happy sound runs through my family. Tyler laughs outright. "What kind of house are we talking about? A rustic log cabin for an occasional vacation?"

Mac squints. "No. A real home. A big one. Big enough for all these losers to hang out," she gestures at the guys. "And I only want to build it once, so it needs to be big enough for the future--when they catch up to us."

The Soundcrush guys all laugh—some more nervously than others. Kat, however, beams and skips—literally skips—over to Mac, wrapping arms tightly around her, wordless but absolute in her approval of Mac's idea.

"I take it the deadline is firm," Tyler says wryly, and Mac beams at him and cradles her stomach.

"I could wait, but Babycakes really can't. I want the baby to be born at home, remember?"

Tyler nods and blows out a slow breath. "A house like you're imagining? With less than six months to build? I don't know, hon...that's a pretty tall order..." Ty says doubtfully, but I see his eyes traveling the elevation, mapping out possibilities.

Brett joins Mac and Kat. "Ty, come on. If we can't help family, what's all the work for?"

Tyler's eyes go wide when he realizes this is becoming a serious situation. He looks at me... "Well, we were bidding on a new subdivision with a developer, but I could withdraw the bid, put all my residential crews here. I'm warning you though...it's gonna cost a fluke-ton, with the overtime."

"What's a fluke-ton, to you, to build a house like Mac is talking?" I ask.

"For a custom mansion, built by quality crews?" He holds two fingers, then a third, and waggles them. He raises his eyebrows to me. He's talking millions.

I hold out my hand. "Dude, I own a house in LA. Just a standard, nothing special place, and it cost me that. Sounds like a steal to me." I hold out a hand and we shake on it.

Tyler winks at Brett. "Would be nice to oversee a project so close to home. I could swing by the house for lunch everyday..."

"Lunch," Leed snorts. "Riiiiiiiiggggggt, man."

The whole crowd erupts in laughter.

"Gotta make a lot of decisions before you guys jet off," Tyler warns us. "Need to break ground within a week, if we wanna get you a livable place before Babycakes is born. Probably won't be completely finished," he warns. "Not if you want the whole rock star package...pools and guest houses and sports courts and all that..."

"Ah hell naw, we need that bball court stat!" Bodie interjects. "How are we gonna get through Mac in labor without burning off some nervous energy?"

Trace slaps him on the back, "Relax Bodes. We can always race the Gators up and down the Rev's long-ass driveway. Maybe even bring the ski ropes up and rollerblade behind?"

Bodie nods solemnly. "Dude. Awesome plan." They clap hands. Mason and Baylor are already grinning evilly and whispering together.

"Don't even think about it, you two," Alex, Janie and MJ all say at once.

Everyone laughs again. I shake my head at how weird it is, for my boys to be merging so easily into my family. I guess, it's a good thing. The way Mac is still palming that earth in her hand, the look of contentment on her face, I get the feeling we might be spending a fair amount of time in Nashville from now on.

She drops the earth reluctantly, wipes it from her graceful fingers, and glides over to Tyler.

"Thank you, Tyler! Really. Thank you so much."

Tyler looks a little taken aback by the fierceness of Mac's hug. "Dang, hon! You are strong for such a little thing," he laughs. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be cussin' each other before this whole thing is done, but we'll come out the other side. We have to. We're family." He winks at me over her head as she hugs him again.

Then I'm claiming my girl from him. "You do realize...I just bought you a Nashville mansion for my birthday," I tease her as I wrap my arms around her.

"Nope, we'll go in halves. We're partners now, remember?" Her expression is blissful and tender. I am too moved to kiss her. I just tuck her head beneath my chin and press our beating hearts together. All of my family—the blood and the chosen, smiling on in approval and moving back towards the Gators to give us a moment.

I guide her gaze to mine. "This is it, you know. Doesn't matter if you never want a ring, or a wedding, or a marriage certificate. If we build this house—this life-together, it means we're a family. Forever."

She stretches up and tightens her arms around my neck, laying her head on my shoulder. "Forever. In my heart we already were. Since that moment I threw the Plan B in the ocean."

"There's a shit storm, coming, Mac." I whisper in her ear. "I wish I could protect you from that."

"You can't," she says. "We're partners...business and life."

"We'll need to trust each other through it," I warn her.

"For better or worse," she promises, kissing my neck softly. "But no storm today. Today the sun is shining. Let's go party on your boat." She slips my hand and dances back to the Gator, giving me another over-the-shoulder wink.

_____________________

"Damn," I whisper as the Gator weaves down the path to the shore, and I get my first view of my birthday gift.

I stop, backing up golf-cart traffic as I lay a thank-you kiss on Mac.

"Shorty, you give good presents. That's a fucking awesome boat!" I survey the stately watercraft, and the dock built to house it. "We don't even need a house, we can live on it," I tease.

"Nope. No closet space," Mac deadpans.

"Rawlins build the dock?" I ask suspiciously. "That's why you guys were talking at church this morning?"

Mac nods. "The dock was a gift from the guys."

"The dock is cool, but the boat? That beauty hauls ass," Trace assures me from the back of the Gator.

Mac turns around and glares at him suspiciously. "You drove it already?"

Kat smacks Trace in the chest. "Trace, what the hell? You said Mac said we could use it!"

Trace smirks and shrugs. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission. Sorry, Dude. I jacked your boat. I'll take whatever punishment you want to dole out to earn that forgiveness."

I sigh. "There's gonna be a dozen kids climbing all over this boat, dripping juice and muddy lake water and...god only knows what else they might drip. You have to clean it afterwards."

"Shiiiiit," Trace growls, but then he sighs. "Fine, I deserve that."

Kat snickers. "Serves you right, TD. Adam, don't boats that size usually have a name? What are you going to name her?"

"The Madam, obviously," I laugh.

It's turning out to be the best birthday weekend I've ever had.