3 YEARS LATER
JAY JAY POV
Three years had flown by in a blur of laughter, growth, and slightly less sleep than I would have liked. Kevin was now a whirlwind of a three-and-a-half-year-old. His hazel eyes were as bright as ever, though now they were usually filled with a very specific, stubborn determination that he definitely inherited from Keifer.
We were in the kitchen of our home, the sun streaming through the windows as I tried to finish up some afternoon snacks. Kevin was standing on his little wooden helper stool next to the counter, his hair a messy mop of curls.
"Mama, chocolate," Kevin said, his little finger pointing urgently at the tray of freshly baked treats.
"That's not chocolates, Kev," I said with a smile, reaching over to pick one up. It was still warm, the edges perfectly golden. I handed it to him carefully. "It's a cookie. Remember? Cookie."
He took it with both hands, his eyes widening. He took a giant, messy bite, getting crumbs all over his chin. "Cookie-chocolate," he corrected me firmly, his mouth half-full.
"Close enough," I laughed, reaching for a napkin to wipe his face.
"Is he trying to negotiate for more sugar already?"
I looked up to see Keifer leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching us with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah," I laughed, shaking my head as I tried to wipe a smudge of chocolate off Kevin's nose. "He's using the 'Little Boss' charm to tell me that cookies and chocolates are the same food group."
Keifer chuckled and walked over, sliding in behind me. He wrapped his arms firmly around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. I leaned into his strength, feeling that familiar warmth that always made me feel at home.
"Mama," Kevin said suddenly, his hazel eyes going wide and serious as he looked at both of us.
"Yes, bud?" I asked, pausing with the napkin in my hand.
"I want a brother," Kevin stated clearly, nodding his head as if he'd spent the whole morning thinking it over.
I froze, my heart doing a little somersault. Beside me, I felt Keifer's grip on my waist tighten almost imperceptibly. He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of my neck and pressing a lingering, heated kiss to my shoulder.
"Or a sister," Keifer murmured against my skin, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly tone that always made my knees go weak.
The kitchen went quiet for a heartbeat, save for the hum of the refrigerator. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. "A brother or a sister?" I repeated, looking from my three-year-old's hopeful face back to the man who was currently trailing soft kisses up my neck. "You two have certainly been talking, haven't you?"
"We had a meeting," Keifer teased, his eyes flickering with mischief as he looked at me. "The board of directors is in agreement, Jay Jay. The playhouse is a bit too big for just one person, and Kevin needs someone to teach his 'climbing' skills to."
Kevin clapped his hands, hopping once on his stool. "Yes! A brother! Play ball!"
I turned around in Keifer's arms, my hands resting on his chest. He looked so happy, so ready. We were only six months away from our 'four-year' mark.
"The project manager is going to have to review the blueprints for that," I whispered, a slow smile spreading across my lips as I looked into Keifer's dark, eager eyes.
"The CEO is willing to offer a very generous compensation package for early delivery," Keifer countered, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips as he pulled me even closer, ignoring the cookie-covered toddler for just a second.
"Is that so?" I teased, circling my arms around his neck.
"Mama, yes?" Kevin asked, pulling on my apron.
I looked down at our son, then back at Keifer, my heart feeling so full it almost hurt. "Yes, Kevin," I said softly, my eyes locking onto Keifer's. "I think we can definitely look into getting you a partner in crime."
Keifer didn't wait. He let out a triumphant laugh, scooped Kevin up into one arm, and pulled me into a deep, celebratory kiss that made the cookie negotiation feel like the easiest deal we'd ever made.
We pulled back, both of us laughing at the tiny critic currently sandwiched between us. Kevin had his eyes squeezed shut, his face scrunched up in a mask of pure toddler disgust, and his chocolate-sticky hands were held up like shields to block the view.
"Ewww! No kisses! Yucky!" Kevin squealed, wriggling in Keifer's arm to get down.
Keifer grinned, completely undeterred, and planted a loud, exaggerated 'mwah' right on Kevin's cheek instead. "Too bad, champ. In this house, the CEO and the Architect have a very strict affection policy."
"Gross!" Kevin shouted, though his giggles were starting to betray him as Keifer set him back on his feet. He immediately wiped his cheek with his sleeve—smearing a bit more cookie in the process—and pointed toward the glass doors. "Now playhouse! Now!"
"The client is very demanding today," Keifer noted, glancing at me with a wink.
"He gets that from you," I retorted, leaning back against the counter and smoothing out my apron. "The single-minded focus? The inability to take 'later' for an answer? That's all Watson DNA."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Keifer said. He started heading for the door with Kevin trailing behind him like a determined little shadow, but then he stopped and turned back. The playfulness in his eyes shifted into something softer, more intense. "And Jay Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said. About the brother or sister." He stepped back toward me for just a second, his voice dropping so Kevin wouldn't overhear. "But mostly, I just want another reason to see you look as happy as you did when he was born."
He gave my hand a quick, firm squeeze before Kevin let out an impatient "Dada, MOVE!" that broke the moment.
I watched them head out into the yard, Keifer's long strides matching Kevin's frantic little hops. As I looked at the sketches of the playhouse still sitting on the counter, I realized I'd probably need to start drafting an addition.
I finished prepping a simple dinner—spaghetti, Kevin's absolute favorite—and wiped my hands on my apron. The house smelled like garlic and basil, and for a moment, I just stood in the quiet kitchen, listening to the muffled sounds of laughter drifting in from the backyard.
I pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the patio. The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange
My heart warmed at the sight before me.
The playhouse was forgotten for a moment as the two of them moved to the center of the lawn. They were playing soccer, though "playing" was a loose term for Keifer mostly letting the ball roll slowly enough for a three-year-old to intercept.
With a final, determined kick, Kevin sent the ball tumbling into the small mesh net we'd set up near the oak tree.
"Yeayyyy! You made a goal!" Keifer shouted, his voice echoing with genuine pride. He didn't just clap; he lunged forward, scooped Kevin up into his arms, and started spinning him around in a dizzying circle.
"Goal! Goal! Goal!" Kevin cheered, his little arms thrown out wide as his feet dangled in the air.
Keifer pulled him in close, laughing as he started showering Kevin's face with kisses—on his forehead, his nose, and both of his chubby cheeks, over and over again.
"Dada! Stop! No kisses!" Kevin squealed, his giggles getting louder the more Keifer persisted. He tried to push Keifer's face away with his small hands, but he was clearly loving every second of the attention.
I leaned against the porch railing, watching the two most important people in my life. It was moments like this that made all the late-night drafting and the hectic business meetings worth it.
Keifer finally let a very busy Kevin go, and our son immediately went back to wrestling the soccer ball toward the net, completely absorbed in his own little world. Keifer didn't follow him, though. Instead, he turned his full attention to me, his hands finding my waist and pulling me firmly into his space.
He leaned down and started pressing soft, lingering kisses against my cheeks—first the left, then the right, moving slowly as if he had all the time in the world.
"What?" I asked, laughing breathlessly as I tried to tilt my head back, though I didn't actually pull away.
"Nothing," Keifer murmured against my skin, his voice humming with that low, vibrates tone I felt deep in my chest. He moved back to the other side, kissing my cheek again, his slight evening stubble grazing me just enough to make me shiver.
"Keifer," I said, my voice a mix of a warning and a sigh.
"Nothing," he repeated, his eyes dark and full of that familiar, devious light. He didn't go for my cheeks this time. He angled his head and pressed a slow, firm kiss right to the corner of my mouth, lingering there until my breath hitched.
The sunset was casting long, golden shadows across the grass, and for a second, it felt like we were the only two people in the world—well, us and the toddler currently shouting "GOAL!" at the top of his lungs behind us.
"You're being very distracting," I whispered, my hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady, strong thud of his heart through his shirt.
"I'm just appreciative," Keifer countered, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth as he spoke, teasing the edge of a real kiss. "Of the house, the kid... but mostly the architect who put up with me long enough to build it all."
He trailed his kisses down to my jawline, making me forget all about the spaghetti waiting on the stove.
"Dada! Watch!" Kevin yelled, thumping the ball against the playhouse.
Keifer let out a reluctant groan against my neck, but he didn't let go of my waist. He just looked over his shoulder at our son, then back at me, a lingering smirk on his face. "I think he's trying to tell me I'm on the clock again."
"The Boss doesn't like it when his employees slack off," I teased, finally reaching up to ruffle his hair.
"One of these days, I'm going to negotiate a much better vacation package with that kid," Keifer muttered, but he gave me one last, deep kiss on the cheek before finally stepping back. "Come on, let's go see what the star player wants now."
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