Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

Walking to the front door, we don’t bother knocking. They know we’re here. Owen rounds the corner, some sort of baby blanket draped on his shoulder. “Hey, you two. Fancy seeing you not sucking each other’s faces.” He smiles, waving a finger between us.

I chuckle, and Charlie groans. “I’m ignoring that. Where are the babies?”

Owen points toward the living room at the back of the house, and when I think Charlie is going to let me go to take off that way, she turns into me and pulls my face down to hers, pressing her lips to mine. She doesn’t do more than that, but the small action is enough to warm my chest.

I watch her go as Owen chuckles and brings a hand to my shoulder, squeezing. “Congrats, brother. I’m happy for you. For both of you.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be saying to you right now?” I pull him in for a hug as he shrugs. “We’re happy for each other, I guess.”

“That we are,” he says as we follow Charlie into the room where Eva has a sleeping Agnes on her shoulder while talking to Lainey and Arthur. Adam is playing with Julia on the floor and Maeve is holding her brand new son on an armchair.

Before I have a chance to greet anyone, Maeve’s voice booms across the room. “Well, well, well. You stopped sucking my sister’s face long enough to come meet your godson, did you?” Her blue eyes are tired but shining with love, and a little mischief, too, because these Howard women have some sass.

“First of all, we were not sucking faces, and your husband just said the same thing. Second of all… what?” I know I heard her say godson, but we’ve never talked about that before.

“Oh, bollocks. I bungled it, didn’t I?” Maeve’s eyes flick to Owen, who’s yet again laughing next to me.

“I think that was kind of perfect, sunshine. Except we didn’t really ask them.” Owen strides over to his wife, kissing the top of her head and looking down at his son in her arms, sleeping peacefully. He takes him from her and kisses his head, too, before walking back toward me. “You don’t have to answer now. It’s a lot. I mean, you’d be responsible for two kids if anything ever happened?—”

“Yes. Of course. Yes. Oh my God are you fucking serious? You want me to—” With slightly shaky hands, I take the baby Owen is now placing in my arms. A big, fat tear splashes onto his blond hair. “Shit. Sorry, little buddy.” I sniffle, more tears already gathering as I look down at his chubby little face. “Owen. Dude. I… I don’t know what to say. This feels like the biggest honor I’ve ever been given. You know I would do anything for these kids. For all of you.”

“We know. We know you both would.” His head twists toward Charlie, whose eyes are shining with tears as she watches me holding her nephew. Then her eyes go to Owen and quickly to Maeve, who’s also crying.

“Yeah, sissy. We’d like you to be godmother.” Before she finishes, Charlie is on her, hugging her awkwardly so Maeve doesn’t have to stand.

Charlie straightens, wiping her cheeks before turning toward me. Her eyes flick to baby Douglas in my arms, and then those baby blues are back on me.

“Well, honey bun, we’re really stuck together now, yeah?” I smile brightly at her, watching as her eyes go from watery to warm with affection.

“Yeah, Machado. Now, we’re stuck together. Because our best friends marrying each other or the fact that I’m in love with you definitely weren’t sufficient.” She rolls her eyes as she approaches me, placing a gentle hand on the little baby in my arms, the other wiping at the tears still on my cheek. Then she reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses me. Again. She kisses me in front of our friends and family, and I don’t know what to do with myself, with all the love threatening to burst out of my chest.

“Called it,” Arthur says. “That’ll be fifty dollars.” He points to Adam and then Owen, who are both smiling, despite clearly losing some kind of bet.

“In love? Holy forking shirtballs! No. That’s not right. Holy fucking shit, you two! How? When?” Adam chuckles at his wife’s attempt not to swear. “In love?” she repeats, and takes a breath, sniffling.

“Yeah, I mean, we wanted you to like each other so you could be godparents without bickering all the time, but I did not see this coming.” Maeve shifts in her seat, tears wiped away as she watches us.

“How did you two not see this? Raf’s been obsessed with Charlie for a long-ass time.” Owen shakes his head, still smiling as he places a bill in Arthur’s hand. “I just didn’t think they’d figure it out so fast.”

“Yeah, well, don’t underestimate the Machado charm.” Arthur smirks. “Not that I possess any of it myself, but my little brothers sure do.” His eyes meet mine for a moment, and he lowers his chin in a very told you so way.

I shrug, looking down at my girl kissing our godson with a sweet smile on her face. I don’t care about them betting on how long this would take, that Arthur called it, or that Vó assumed it. All I care about is that she’s here. We’re here. Together. And that’s how it’ll stay.

epilogue

charlie

two months later

“Honey bun?” Raf calls out from somewhere in the house as I walk into the kitchen with my hands full of groceries. There’s a bag of chips between my teeth, however—because screw taking anymore than one trip from the car—so I can’t answer. “Do you need help? I’m in the living room.” He knows me too well. I’ve hardly made a sound, and yet he knows I have my arms full of something.

I drop the chips on the counter as I set the bags on the floor. “Nope, I’m good. Be right there.” Picking the bag of chips back up—with my hand—I head into the room and come to a halt when I see all of the books spread out on the coffee table, Pumpkin laying on some of them without a care in the world and not sparing me a glance. I love this cat.

Rafael is smiling as he opens one to the front cover. I’d forgotten about this. That I wrote in all of his books before I knew I was falling in love with him. I have no recollection of what’s written in those pages.

“Uh, hi.” The snack in my hand crinkles loudly, and my favorite pair of brown eyes meet mine.

“Get over here, red.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch, and I take slow steps, willing my brain to recall what I wrote. “When did you do this?” His brows crinkle as he reads another message.