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1
Her gaze flicked to the half-full wine glasses on the table. She couldn’t quite recall how the idea of painting his nails had come up. Something about testing a new color and how it dried?
Ted had said she’d tried it on him once before, so she could use him again, and somehow, here they were.
It wasn’t a date. At least… well…
They spent almost all of their evenings together these days. Takeout, wine, lounging on the couch, and watching movies. It was all platonic, or as platonic as it could be when you harbored very deep feelings for your gaffer. The man she’d nearly lost, but who, at the eleventh hour, realized he was home right here, in Richmond.
And, no, they weren’t dating. Not technically. They were just two friends who hung out all the time. Two friends who didn’t try to date anyone else. Two friends, except, well, Rebecca couldn’t lie to herself. She felt things. Big, fluttery, can’t-ignore-them kinds of things. And if she had to guess? Ted probably felt them too.
Most nights, you’d find them on her couch, FaceTiming Henry and stealing moments to just be together. They spent so much time together that the whole club had started a betting pool on when they’d finally make it official, a pool they both pretended didn’t exist.
They spent most evenings just like this, indulging in one of their silly, spur-of-the-moment ideas, or simply relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.
Tonight wasn’t any different, and it wasn’t a date. And sure, no one had officially asked the other out… but…
Maybe…
“Sit still, Ted,” she said, trying to keep her voice soft as she squeezed his hand, her other hand carefully holding the tiny bottle of nail polish.
“I am sittin’ still!” he protested, but his body seemed determined to prove him wrong, twitching and shifting every which way. “This is just my body’s natural state.”
“Well, your natural state is making this impossible,” she muttered, glaring at his twitching fingers.
“Hey now, you know I’m not good at stayin’ still.”
Rebecca sighed softly, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to figure out how to handle his restlessness. “Right. That’s it. Get on my lap.”
Ted froze, his eyes widening comically. “Uh… what now?”
“You heard me,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “If you can’t sit still on your own, I’ll hold you still. Now come on.”
She patted her thighs for emphasis when he didn’t move.
“Rebecca, I don’t think—”
“Oh, for god’s sake, don’t be such a prude, Ted.” She gently pulled him toward her. “It’s not like I’m asking you to strip naked and pose.”
Ted’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink, somewhere between “embarrassed strawberry” and “flustered tomato,” as he awkwardly plopped onto her lap, clearly knowing this was the path of least resistance.
He sat there like a toddler who’d just figured out how to stay upright, his knees on either side of her thighs, propped up in the most endearingly uncoordinated way. His hands hovered in front of him, fingers splayed out like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“I feel kinda ridiculous sittin’ up here.”
She raised an eyebrow as she dipped the nail polish brush into the bottle. “Well, if the shoe fits.”
“Hey now,” he replied, feigning offense, though his grin only widened. “I’m just sayin’, you ever see a grown man this size on someone’s lap before?”
“No,” she admitted as she steadied his hand. “But there’s a first time for everything, right?” Rebecca smirked, dipping the tiny brush into the bottle of deep green polish again, finding this setup was already working pretty well. “You don’t exactly have the longest attention span, Ted. It’s usually charming, but we’ve got work to do. Now, focus. Eyes on me.”
He looked at her, though his mouth was already off and running. “Hey now, I’ll have you know I once sat through a whole quilting bee without fidgetin’ once. My nana was over the moon proud.”
“I’ll believe that when I see you sit still for more than five seconds at a time. Now, please, stop squirming.”
“I’m not squirming,” he grumbled, his words muffled by a pout that made him look like a little puppy who’d just been told no treats.
“Well, you’re not exactly not squirming,” she teased.
“You make me real nervous, Boss,” Ted muttered, his eyes locking on the brush as it painted his thumbnail.
“Well, you don’t have to be.”
“Oh, sure, that easy, huh?” Ted drawled, his accent thicker than usual, likely a side effect of the generous amount of wine they’d knocked back. “’Cause sittin’ on your lap definitely ain’t the kinda thing to make a fella nervous. What if I let out a fart? Or worse, what if you think I smell funny and you don’t wanna hang out anymore?”
Rebecca didn’t miss a beat, humming softly as she finished his thumbnail. “If you fart, I’ll either laugh it off or pretend it never happened. And for the record, Coach, you smell perfectly lovely.”
“Well,” Ted shifted slightly, only to freeze under her sharp glare. He grinned sheepishly and instantly steadied himself. “I’m just sayin’, if we’re stickin’ to traditional roles, shouldn’t you be the one sittin’ on my lap? Not that I’m complainin’, of course. Just an observation.”
Rebecca paused mid-stroke, her brush hovering in the air. “Traditional roles, hmm? Are you one for those, Ted?”
“Nah,” he confessed, his grin spreading wide and way too charming for his own good. He even added a playful flutter of his eyelashes, just for extra effect, it seemed. “You got me pegged there, Boss.”
Her lips twitched despite herself. He was just so irresistibly Ted, all boyish charm and unfiltered earnestness, wrapped up in a package that had no business being this fucking hot.
“I quite like not sticking to the norm, between you and me.”
“I think it suits us, Boss.”
“Would you still feel that way if I grabbed a toe separator and did your toenails too?” she asked, tilting her head like she was genuinely considering it, or maybe she just enjoyed the way he squirmed at the suggestion.
“Oh, I draw the line at takin’ my socks off,” Ted shot back quickly, shaking his head. “I’ve been told my feet are an acquired taste, like that Marmite of yours you think is so good.”
Rebecca snorted at that, her laughter escaping before she could stop it. The memory of Ted’s first encounter with Marmite, egged on by Henry, flashed through her mind.
She couldn’t quite figure out what was so strange about his feet to warrant such a warning, but honestly, she didn’t care if they were the oddest feet in the world. She’d love him no matter what, she’d figured that out months ago. What mattered this instant was keeping him talking, it was the perfect distraction while she finished painting his nails.
“Noted.” She dipped the brush back into the bottle of polish. “Now, please, don’t wiggle. I’m almost done.”
“Wiggle?” Ted repeated. “Rebecca, I’ve been sittin’ on your lap like some kinda oversized ventriloquist dummy for a few minutes already. The fact that I ain’t toppled off yet oughta earn me a gold star.”
“Gold stars are for good boys, Ted.”
“Aw, come on now,” Ted drawled. His twang was as thick and sweet as molasses, laced with mock indignation. “I’ve been nothin’ but good, and you know it.”
“Debatable,” Rebecca shot back.
“Harsh, Boss,” he replied, pulling a dramatic pout that almost worked, if not for the mischief dancing in his eyes. “What’s it gonna take to get a little recognition ‘round here?”
“For starters,” Rebecca warned gently, “stop fidgeting so I can finish this before we’re stuck here all night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ted murmured, though the cheeky grin on his face made it clear he wasn’t about to behave entirely. “Next thing I know, you’ll be askin’ to braid my hair, won’t ya?”
“Don’t tempt me. I think you’d look rather dashing with a little French plait.”
“You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you wanna touch my hair. Can’t say I blame you. It’s top-notch, straight from the Kansas cornfields. Homegrown and all-natural.”
“I hate to break it to you, Coach, but your hair is hardly the eighth wonder of the world.”
“Debatable,” Ted shot back, leaning forward slightly as if daring her to touch it.
The thought was far too tempting. Letting her fingers sink into the softness, running them along his scalp, testing if he might actually melt under her touch. For a split second, she could picture his eyes fluttering shut and that goofy grin softening into something far more intimate. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.
Carefully, she applied the final swipe of polish to his pinky, doing her best to ignore the traitorous flutter in her chest. To keep him distracted, she casually asked, “So, tell me more about Kansas. What’s it really like?”
Ted’s face brightened instantly, the sadness that had lingered when he spoke about it completely gone. “Oh, Kansas? Well, picture fields that go on forever, skies so big they make you feel like a tiny speck, and the kinda sunsets that could make a grown man tear up.”
She hummed in response, letting his warm, lilting voice fill the space between them as she finished with his pinky. Satisfied with her work, she leaned in slightly, blowing gently on his fingers, one by one, to help the polish dry.
Ted stilled just a fraction, but not for long. His voice didn’t falter once as she gently blew on his fingers one by one again; instead, he dove into an enthusiastic rundown of all the places in Kansas he’d want to take her—BBQ joints, sports arenas, shopping malls, cozy little restaurants, his dad’s resting place, and even his mama’s backyard. Though, with a sad grin, he warned her, “Visiting my mama might not be the peachiest experience.”
Rebecca had always known Ted’s relationship with his mother was… complicated. Especially after she’d tried to convince him to move back to Kansas. But something had changed for him recently. A real talk with Henry about what they both felt and wanted, followed by a heart-to-heart with Michelle, had cemented what Rebecca had long hoped he’d realize, his home was here. In Richmond.
With a better custody arrangement in place, one that allowed him a month on and a month off with Henry, Ted seemed lighter these days. He got to see his son much more often now. Henry could even attend school online while staying in Richmond, thanks to an asynchronous program his school had set up shortly after Rebecca made a very generous donation to fund it. She didn’t think twice about it; she’d come to realize there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do for Ted, and by extension, for Henry too.
When Henry was in Richmond, the three of them hung out together all the time, and it just felt... easy. Henry had even started calling her “Miss Rebecca” instead of “Miss Welton,” which felt like a pretty big deal coming from the young boy. He even had his own room upstairs now, right at the end of the hall, just across from Ted’s. Ted and Rebecca had spent a few afternoons decorating it with Henry, picking out paint like a real family, splattering a little here and there, making a mess in the best way. Honestly, every moment she shared with them felt like a core memory in the making.
Sometimes, after long nights of puzzles, Legos, or movie marathons, they’d be too tired to walk back across the Green, well, Henry would be. He’d often fall asleep right there on her big couch, and Rebecca couldn’t stand the thought of Ted carrying his growing son all the way back. So, they’d stay the night, and each time, it felt like her house was slowly becoming a real home.
Waking up to the Lassos under her roof had become one of the sweetest, most heartwarming parts of her life.
That’s how the Marmite test had come about, and the way Ted scrunched up his face after his first taste? Still one of her favorite photos on her phone.
And then, of course, there were so many other moments…
Ever since that day she’d asked him to stay in Richmond, something had shifted between them. Flirting had started to sneak in, little playful comments, teasing smiles. And those glances, the ones full of something she couldn’t quite name, had begun. Hugs, too, that lingered just a little longer than they probably should have. It was like they were both dancing around something, something that was starting to feel a whole lot like... more.
Ted hadn’t left, and over the months that followed, Rebecca couldn’t help but smile at how naturally he’d become part of her world, part of her life, and how she’d done the same for him.
Or maybe it had always been that way. She wasn’t sure when it all started, or whether it would ever stop. But it felt like they were the forever kind, whatever they were.
As he went on about his mom’s backyard and how he couldn’t wait to sit on the old porch swing with her, his excitement was downright contagious. She couldn’t help but grin as he kept painting one vivid picture after another, his words spilling out faster than he could probably keep track of.
As his rambling slowed, his cheeks flushed, and he dropped his gaze to his lap with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice softer now. “I tend to run my gob when I’m nervous. Or tipsy. And right now, I’m both, so…”
Rebecca tilted her head, her heart aching in the sweetest way. All those times he’d probably been told he talked too much, when the truth was, hearing him talk was the one thing that made everything feel a little lighter, a little better. Sure, she teased him about being a chatterbox now and then, but she hoped he knew, knew just how much the sound of his voice comforted her, how his words had a way of feeling like a light in the dark. Somehow, he managed to draw out a side of her she thought she’d lost, her silly side, tucked away for so many years she’d almost forgotten it existed. But with him, it came out effortlessly, like it had been waiting for him to talk her ear off all along.
“It’s okay. At least your nails are dry now.”
Ted glanced down at his hands, spreading his fingers like he was admiring a masterpiece. “Look at that. Your hard work in all its glory.”
“All this just to help me test a color?” she teased. “You’re really dedicated. I must be special.”
“Anything to be of service,” he replied with a grin. Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he added, “But if we’re bein’ honest, I think I’m the special one here. ‘Cause, well… Here I am, sittin’ pretty in the lap of the prettiest gal in the world.”
Rebecca tried to brush off the compliment, chalking it up to the wine. “Comfortable then?” she asked.
He nodded. “Never felt safer.”
That simple acknowledgment turned them both into blushing messes, though maybe it was the flirting beforehand that did the trick. Either way, Rebecca could feel the warmth creeping up her neck, and judging by the way Ted was avoiding eye contact, he wasn’t faring much better.
A beat passed before Ted looked at her, a bit mischievous. “Hey, how ’bout we flip the script?”
“Flip the script?”
“Yeah,” he said, slowly easing off her lap and standing, but he stayed close, hovering a bit. “Lemme paint your nails now. Fair’s fair, right?”
Rebecca leaned back on the couch, crossing her arms. “And what makes you think I’d trust you anywhere near my nails with those shaky hands of yours?”
“Aw, come on now,” Ted teased, grabbing the bottle of polish from her and twirling it between his fingers like he was a pro. “I’ve got a steady hand when it counts. Ever seen me butter toast? Smooth as silk.”
She felt herself giving in before the words even left her mouth. “Fine. But if you make a mess, you’re cleaning it up.”
“Deal,” he said, plopping himself down on the coffee table in front of her, looking way too proud of himself. He gently took one of her hands in his, studying her nails like he was about to make the most important play of his life. “Alright, Welton, you’re in good hands. Well, mine, anyway.”
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile, her whole chest warming at the sight of him so focused, so sweetly trying to get it just right for her.
She couldn’t help but smile as he carefully painted the first stroke, his tongue peeking out just a little in concentration, his brows furrowed in a way that made her heart flutter. It was so endearing, so him.
“Not bad,” she said, unable to hide the soft affection in her voice as he finished the first nail.
“Not bad?” he parroted, his eyes widening in mock offense. “This right here is a masterpiece in the making! Da Vinci’s got nothing on me.”
“How’s this? If you can manage to keep the polish on my nails and off my skin, I might just consider hiring you as my personal manicurist.”
Ted glanced up. “Oh, I’m gonna hold you to that. But fair warning, my rates include dinner and maybe a slow dance or two every time you hire me.”
Rebecca blinked, her breath catching for a moment. Dinner? Slow dancing? Was he… Was he outright flirting with her?
She’d noticed little things over the past few weeks, what she thought might have been flirting. But it was always subtle, layered under his natural charm, easy to dismiss if she needed to. This, though? This was something else. This was… blatant.
“I think I’d like that,” she found herself saying, the words slipping out before she could overthink them.
His whole face lit up, his grin so bright it made her want to poke the tip of her finger into his dimple, just to see if it was as deep as it looked. Though that would mean smudging her nail polish on his cheek…
Would that really be so bad?
She was starting to wonder just how messy things might get when Ted looked up at her, his eyes sparkling with pure delight.
“I’d like that, too.”
Without saying another word, thankfully, because she was pretty sure she’d choke on the butterflies fluttering in her chest, Ted went back to focusing on her nails. Before long, he was finishing up the last one.
He blew gently on her fingertips, just like she had earlier for him, and that cheeky smile of his made it clear he knew exactly how his breath would make her skin tingle. She could feel a spark run through her every time he blew hot air onto her drying nails. When his lips hovered near her other hand, he glanced up at her, and she couldn’t help but shiver, feeling it all the way down her spine.
He smiled, the cheeky devil, clearly knowing exactly what he was doing to her. “There you go. All done. What do you think?”
Rebecca glanced down at her hands, though she wasn’t really paying attention to his work. She was too distracted by the soft, buttery feeling swirling in her gut. “Not bad at all, Coach. I might just let you do this again.”
“Oh, you’d better be careful,” he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in just a little closer. “I might start thinkin’ this is gonna be a regular thing.”
“Maybe it should be.”
“You sayin’ I didn’t ruin my shot at being your go-to guy for everything?”
It hit her then. He really wanted to be that guy for her. The one she turned to, the one who showed up when it mattered most.
But the truth was, he already was that guy.
“I don’t think you could ever ruin your shot with me,” she admitted, hoping he could feel the weight of it, the truth behind every word.
Through laughter and the last sips of their wine, they made their way to the kitchen to clean up the glasses and the remnants of their dinner.
“Best Tuesday night I’ve had in a while,” Ted said with a smile, scrubbing away at a plate.
Rebecca smiled, brushing her fingers lightly over his arm as she grabbed a towel to dry the dishes. “Me too,” she whispered, a little softer than she meant to.
They worked in comfortable silence, but every now and then their eyes met, and an easy smile would pass between them.
After washing and drying his hands, Ted leaned casually against the counter, watching her finish drying the last of the dishes and putting them away.
She walked up to the sink to wash her hands, feeling his presence right there behind her. When she turned, he gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, a soft smile playing on his lips.
He didn’t seem uncertain—just careful, as if he was weighing his next move.
With a quiet sigh and a glance down, he finally spoke. “It’s late. There’s a match tomorrow. You mind if I use my room upstairs?”
“It is yours to use, Ted.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure if it was her, if she’d done something to mess things up, but as they started heading up the stairs, she paused, turning slightly when she heard Ted’s voice behind her.
“Uh, Boss?” He was looking up at her, one hand resting on the railing, his smile as soft as his tone. “So, uh… I gotta ask,” he began, a little quieter now, “was that a one-time thing, or do I get to keep sittin’ on your lap anytime you’re feelin’ like paintin’ nails?”
She bit back a laugh, knowing what he was silently saying. “You really enjoyed sitting on my lap, didn’t you, Coach?”
His chuckle was loud and free, the kind that only she could coax from him in private, and just as she opened her mouth to add another playful comment, he took a step closer. The small gap between them disappeared in an instant as he linked his hands behind her back, pulling her in just enough. Before she could think, he gave her that soft smile of his, the one that easily disarmed her nowadays, leaned in, and whispered, “I enjoy every second I spend with you.”
Rebecca’s breath hitched as she licked her lips, heart racing in anticipation. She didn’t hesitate for long. It was her turn to be brave.
With a soft exhale, she closed the distance between them.
The kiss was slow, as if they had all the time in the world, a lifetime of kisses ahead of them. His lips were soft and unhurried, taking their sweet time. His mustache brushed lightly against her upper lip, tickling a bit, just as she’d imagined, making her smile into the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he instinctively pulled her closer, his arms snug around her waist.
She gently tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth, coaxing a soft whine from him, but even then, he kissed her with all the patience in the world, the polite and well-mannered man that he was. Sweet. That’s what it was.
And in that moment, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if the sweet and well-mannered man let go just a little, maybe went on a little vacation to a place far, far away.
She didn’t wonder long if the well-mannered man could take a break. His tongue darted out, and suddenly, the kiss was alight, intense, messy, a whirlwind of teeth almost clashing, tongues tangling, hands exploring, lifting the hems of clothes, all urgency and heat. It was a kiss that stole her breath away and somehow gave it back to her.
When he pulled back, his lips left a trail of soft, lingering kisses along her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and the corner of her mouth, leaving her breathless and dizzy with desire, a little giddy, and completely high on love. Her mind raced, imagining how those delicious lips would feel on every inch of her.
His forehead rested gently against hers, his smile warm and a little smug, as if he knew exactly what he’d just done to her. Standing there, heart racing and cheeks flushed, all she could think was that she never wanted this to end.
“Anyway… Thanks for the mani, boss,” he said, breathless but with that sweet voice of his, like sunshine and honey melting together. “Can’t wait to show it off to the fellas.”
She couldn’t help the soft, slightly panicked laugh that escaped, but as he turned to head toward his room, the sight of him walking away sent a sharp pang straight through her chest. Before she could overthink it, because if she did, she might hesitate, her hand darted out, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Her fingers curled into the fabric, holding him firmly in place.
“You don’t kiss me like that,” she said with a bit of gentle warning, “and then just walk away.”
He froze for a heartbeat, his wide eyes locking on hers, surprise flickering across his face. But it melted away just as quickly. When his gaze met hers, something in her chest tightened and softened all at once, a quiet ache she hadn’t realized she was holding onto finally easing. She didn’t know exactly what he saw in her expression, but whatever it was, it made his shoulders relax and the corners of his mouth lift into the softest, sweetest smile.
She didn’t say a word as she turned and led him down the hall to her room, but she didn’t need to. His hand slipped into hers so easily, so naturally, like it had always belonged there. His fingers curled gently around hers, and he gave the faintest squeeze, a quiet reassurance that said everything: I’m here. I’ve been here.
Ted wouldn’t be needing his own room tonight, and as they stepped into hers, she felt the kind of quiet certainty that had eluded her for so long. His hand was still in hers, and when she turned to him and he glanced at her with that soft, hopeful smile, she knew.
That room down the hall? He wouldn’t need it anymore.
2
Rebecca hadn’t expected to find Ted in her office, let alone folded up on her sofa, shaking like a leaf in a gale. His breathing came in sharp, uneven gasps, and his usually lively eyes were clouded with panic.
“Oh, Ted,” she murmured, hurrying over and sinking onto the cushion beside him. “Hey, it’s alright, you’re safe. Just breathe, alright? With me.” She took slow, steady breaths, guiding him by placing his hand gently over her chest so he could feel the rhythm. Bit by bit, his breathing fell in line with hers, the tremors running through him gradually fading.
Eventually, he shifted, stretching his legs across her lap and letting his head fall to her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her tightly, his whole body leaning into her as if he was trying to melt into her completely. His hair brushed against her neck, sending a pang of worry through her chest. She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was holding him tightly enough or if he needed more. Then, gently, she wrapped her arms around him, her hands moving slowly across his back, hopefully anchoring him. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, her cheek resting softly against his hair. “I’m right here.”
“‘m sorry,” he mumbled after a long pause, his words slurred with exhaustion. “Just… you make me feel safe, y’know?”
“No. Don’t apologize,” she said softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Just rest, love.”
And he did, letting out a little sigh as he tucked himself closer, his head nestled in the crook of her neck like it was the most natural place in the world. She smiled to herself, her hand absentmindedly stroking his back. “I’ll stay like this as long as you need me to.”
She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, holding him close as his breathing slowed, eventually giving way to the cutest little snores.
Rebecca had no idea how long they’d been sitting there, just the two of them in the comfort of her office. But when the door creaked open, and Keeley’s wide-eyed face popped around the corner, Rebecca nearly jumped out of her own skin.
No one knew they were together. Not yet. They’d agreed to keep it quiet until the season was over, wanting to share the news on their own terms. The off-season felt like the perfect time, enough space for the gossip and rumor mill to settle and, hopefully, to avoid being splashed across the front pages of the tabloids for too long.
Still, the look on Keeley’s face suggested she had an inkling about their relationship, maybe more than just an inkling. A couple of weeks ago, she’d made a comment about them both wearing the same nail polish, but Rebecca had quickly brushed it off as Ted being her test subject, which seemed perfectly plausible since Ted was always willing to help anyone with pretty much anything. Keeley hadn’t seemed to think much of it, at least, not until now.
Keeley’s face was all wicked amusement. “He’s so fucking babygirl.”
“What?” Rebecca whispered sharply, trying not to wake Ted. Those weren’t the words she expected to come out of Keeley’s mouth. At all. “What does that even mean?”
“A golden retriever of a man,” Keeley explained with a dramatic flourish. “Cute. Sensitive. Soft-spoken. Adorable.” She gestured toward Ted. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s a grown man in your lap, babes.”
Rebecca glared. “I swear, I never know what you kids are on about.”
Keeley winked. “He’s your babygirl. That’s all there is to it.”
Rebecca let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. He is that,” she admitted, fully aware of the can of worms she was opening. Keeley would waste no time at their next girls’ night or over a glass of wine, pushing for every little detail. She’d want to know when she and Ted had gotten together, dig for every bit of their relationship’s timeline, and, knowing her, probably ask about their sex life.
“Now,” Rebecca said, her voice firm but warm, “will you close the door on your way out?”
Keeley grinned knowingly, cooing about how adorable they were, all while already scanning for more details with her eyes. But Rebecca gave her a pointed look, her fingers softly brushing through Ted’s hair and mouthing a “Not now” in Keeley’s direction.
“Fine, oh my god,” Keeley whispered as she began to back away. “I was coming to have lunch with you, so you owe me.”
Rebecca nodded, silently promising the smaller woman that she’d make it up to her, and that was that.
There would be time to talk and share, just a little, when Rebecca was ready. But for now, she wanted to hold onto this moment, and the man in her arms, all to herself. Just a little longer.
The room was silent for a beat after that, and then a soft snicker broke through.
Her gaze shot to Ted, still curled up against her shoulder, but now with a sly, unmistakably awake smile tugging at his lips.
“I take it you heard Keeley.”
Ted tilted his head back just enough to look up at her, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Am I your babygirl, Boss?”
“Ted…” She tried to muster some authority, but his expression, sweet and far too earnest, undid her entirely. “Fine. You are my babygirl.”
The pleased hum he gave made her roll her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile creeping onto her lips.
“Darn right I am,” he murmured, nuzzling closer, his nose brushing against the skin of her neck, just beneath her ear.
“You don’t care much about the babygirl of it all, do you?” she teased, her fingers lightly carding through his hair.
“It’s cute,” he mumbled, his voice all syrupy and sleepy. “But between you and me, as long as I’m called yours, the rest don’t matter.”
“Well,” she said softly, “you are that, too.”
He didn’t seem bothered at all that someone else knew about them now, his soft hum of agreement the last thing she heard before he drifted back to sleep. Rebecca just watched him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she marveled at how this lovely man had waltzed right into her heart. In that moment, it became so clear to her that she’d do anything, move heaven and earth, if it came to that, just to give him one more moment of peace, tucked safely in her arms, away from the harsh claws of the world.
3
The third time Ted found himself in Rebecca’s lap, he was clearly embarrassed.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t do this in the kitchen,” he muttered, trying to look anywhere but at her.
Rebecca arched a brow, scissors poised in one hand while her other rested on his shoulder. “Just sit still, or you’ll lose more than your mustache.”
He huffed a small laugh, wincing as the motion tugged at his tender fingers. The burns weren’t too bad, just a little kitchen mishap, but he’d somehow managed to do a “boo-boo,” as he called it, when he tried to trim his mustache afterward, leaving it uneven. Naturally, Rebecca had offered to fix it for him.
And so here they were, her on the sofa, him perched across her lap, the scent of expensive burn cream hanging between them.
“So,” Rebecca began as she combed through the bristly hair above his lip, “are you always this dramatic about grooming?”
“Only when someone as tall and intimidating as you’s holding scissors near my face,” he quipped, though his smile softened as soon as she smiled.
“Intimidating, am I?” she teased, tilting his chin gently. “Hold still, baby.”
Rebecca tilted his chin up slightly, inspecting his mustache with the precision of a sculptor. Ted, however, couldn’t resist grinning from ear to ear.
“You sure that rock on your finger won’t knock ya off-balance?” he drawled.
“I’m right-handed,” she said with an exasperated sigh that was filled with love.
“I know,” he said, grin growing wider. “I’m just proud I put a ring on it, is all.” He paused. “Well, guess it’s my own fault if you end up doin’ a poor job now, ain’t it? Gotta distract myself with my cleverness.”
“Very clever to put a ring on it, indeed. But I’m still right-handed,” she pointed out, holding up the trimming scissors in her right hand near his face for emphasis. “Now, how about you let me work, fiancé, and, oh, I don’t know, shut your adorable mouth?”
“Fiancé,” Ted repeated, as if savoring the word. “Kinda like the sound of that. Think you could call me that a little more often?”
She made a mental note of it, still feeling a little giddy at the thought that he’d asked her to marry him. It was all just so wonderfully marvelous.
“Keep talking, and I’ll start calling you ‘the bloke who ruined his own trim,’” she retorted, leaning in to make the first careful snip.
Ted’s eyes crossed slightly as he tried to watch her at work, something she almost laughed at and teased him about, but instead just stopped and glared. “Alright, alright,” he muttered. “I’ll zip it. But for the record, you’re my favorite barber, Boss.”
“I’m the only one you’ve got at this hour. And besides, flattery won’t save this hairy croissant if you twitch.”
She brushed her thumb over his jaw to steady him, and he flashed that familiar smile. These days, whenever the urge to sink her thumb into his dimple was too strong, she gave in, and just as she did, Ted closed his eyes, as if the simple gesture was enough to calm him.
“Good boy. Now, stay still,” Rebecca said, watching as he kept his eyes shut while she worked to even out his mustache.
Eventually, he opened his eyes, a quiet desire dancing in them, tracing the delicate curve of her neck as she worked. She knew the power those two simple words held, how they could unravel him, but just as easily, how they could make him behave.
“This reminds me of my dad,” she found herself saying without really meaning to.
Ted blinked rapidly, as if snapping out of a trance. “How so?”
“When I was little, he’d sit me on the bathroom counter while he shaved. He’d put shaving cream on my face, hand me an old razor with no blade, and let me shave alongside him. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Just a silly little ritual. But after he passed…” She hesitated, swallowing hard. “For all he was and wasn’t, he was still my dad.”
“My pops did the same thing with me,” he said softly. “He’d lather me up good with that old can of Barbasol and make a big fuss ‘bout how I was the best little shaver this side of Kansas. I reckon it was his way of sharing time with me, even if it was somethin’ simple. Probably the only time we were quiet when we were in the same room, y’know?”
“Isn’t it strange, how tangled our pasts are?”
Ted tilted his head. “Not strange at all, Boss,” he said, as if stating the most natural truth in the world. “Just… soulmates.”
“Or something like it.”
“Something like it,” he echoed as her fingers danced delicately on his jaw. “Something more powerful. More beautiful.”
With soft smiles and quiet I love yous whispered and lingering, she turned her attention back to his mustache.
They were soulmates. That much they knew. They didn’t need to say it often, or even at all. Words felt almost redundant for something so deeply understood. But they knew.
One night, after too many glasses of wine and the kind of honesty only found in late hours, they talked about the September 13th of it all. The day their lives changed forever.
They pieced it together then, how their pasts, so dark and tangled, had somehow been leading them here, to this. It felt as if the universe, in all its chaos, had conspired to bring them together. They couldn’t help but wonder: was all the heartbreak necessary? Did she need to have her trust shattered, her heart broken, just to find him? Did she need to want to sabotage him, and the club, only to discover she still had a heart after all?
Maybe it wasn’t fate in the romantic sense, but something more raw and real. Two broken paths colliding at the right time.
And then… finding in each other the kind of love that doesn’t erase the past but makes it bearable. Maybe even worth it.
Just as her thoughts came to a halt, love overflowing in her heart as she gazed at him, she leaned back, dropped the scissors, and gently cupped his face in her hands. “There. Handsome as ever.”
“Handsome, huh?”
Rebecca smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head, Coach.”
“No promises,” he replied, leaning in just close enough to make her heart stutter.
“Well,” she managed, “I might have to charge you next time. This wasn’t easy with you talking my ear off. Plus, we can’t have you getting too spoiled.”
“Too late for that,” Ted quipped, his grin wide and absolutely shameless. “You and I both know I’m a real spoiled babygirl.”
“We could argue on that one, considering the size of the rock on my finger,” she shot back, holding up her hand with exaggerated flair.
“Fair point. But in my defense, I think that makes us even.”
“Even?” she asked. “How do you figure?”
“Well,” Ted drawled. “I’m spoiled rotten by you, it’s true. I also managed to snag the prettiest, smartest, sassiest woman this side of the Atlantic. So really, I think we’re even. Wouldn’t wantcha to think the scales ain’t even.”
“I got you, so really, I think the scales are in my favor,” she admitted. “But, sweet talk aside, telling each other how much we love one another won’t save you from the fact that you were squirming the whole time,” she teased.
“Was not,” he argued, but the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.
“Was too,” she countered.
Ted reached for her hand, pulling it gently toward his mouth before he kissed the inside of her wrist. “Alright, fine. Maybe I was a little fidgety. But that’s only ‘cause sittin’ this close to my fiancée makes my heart race real fast.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re 100% stuck with me, baby.”
“Not stuck,” Rebecca corrected, leaning down to brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Lucky.”
Ted beamed, his eyes crinkling. “Guess that makes two of us.”
+1
Ted stood in the doorway, wet from the rain, coming home from a morning of errands with no shopping bags in hand, his sheepish expression doing absolutely nothing to distract from the suspicious wriggling lump in his jacket.
“Baby,” Rebecca began slowly, her hands on her hips. “What’s in your jacket?”
He hesitated, a boyish whine slipping out as he shuffled awkwardly. “You said you wanted one, so…” He shifted the fabric just enough for a tiny, furry nose to poke out.
Her eyes widened. “Theodore D. Lasso!”
“Ah!” He winced dramatically. “You can’t middle-name me! You don’t even know my middle name!”
She smirked, crossing her arms. “Theodore Denise Lasso!”
“Well, shoot!” he exclaimed, pulling the edges of his jacket tighter around the small dog. “Cover your ears, little buddy. She just middle-named us.” He leaned down, whispering conspiratorially to the furball. “She don’t mean it. She’s just surprised.”
Rebecca pointed a finger at him, though her lips were twitching with the effort not to laugh. “You had to write your middle name on our marriage papers. Speaking of, does your mother hate you?”
“Oh, that’s definitely up for debate,” he shot back with a grin. “It was my great aunt’s name, thank you very much. Now don’t go bait-and-switchin’. Come meet our baby.”
He pulled the dog fully from his jacket, cradling the tiny thing with all the tenderness in the world. Big brown eyes, identical to Ted’s in their pleading intensity, blinked up at her.
Rebecca felt her resolve crumble in less than an instant. “Oh, you’re both impossible,” she murmured, reaching for the wriggling pooch. Ted handed the dog over with a proud grin, his gaze soft as she held the dog close.
She had no idea what breed he was, but it didn’t really matter. Ted would probably say he was half lovebug, a quarter cuddle cutie, and a quarter fuzzball, or something equally ridiculous. But to her, all that mattered was that he was now theirs.
If her eyes teared up a little as the dog tried to sneak a few licks at her face, and at the pure joy on Ted’s face, well, Ted had taught her that she didn’t need to hide her joy, or any other emotion, for that matter.
“See, little fella? Told ya she’d love ya!”
“You’re lucky he’s so cute. Both of you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, her heart full in the best way.
“Darn right,” Ted replied, his grin widening as he discarded his jacket.
Rebecca pressed a kiss to the puppy’s head, then shot Ted a fond, exasperated look. “So? Spill.”
“What can I say? There were signs, baby,” he began. “First off, this little guy needed a home,” he said as he gently scratched behind the puppy’s ears. The pup glanced at her, then at him, letting out a soft whine as if asking for more cuddles. “Anyhoo… Ever since you told me you wanted one, I’ve been stopping by the shelter that’s on our way to work. Figured it was time to make it happen when I saw this one there this morning. I filled out the paperwork and got approved on the spot.”
Rebecca had picked Ted up from the shelter more than once in recent weeks, gently comforting a teary-eyed Ted who couldn’t hold back his emotions after spending too much time with all the sweet dogs who just needed a home. But what were the signs, really? Ted seemed to find signs everywhere, so what made him choose this particular pooch, other than how ridiculously cute he was?
Rebecca’s hand moved instinctively to the dog’s soft fur as she cradled him closer. “He has a tragic backstory, doesn’t he?”
“That’s right. But I’ll spare you the details. Don’t want you cryin’ over your tea, ‘cause I know you’re a big ol’ softie deep down.”
She gave him a playful glare, though her fingers didn’t stop their slow strokes along the pup’s head and ears. “What if I’m no good at taking care of him?”
Ted leaned in slightly, grinning. “What if I’m secretly a world-class opera singer?”
“What?”
“I thought we were just sayin’ stupid things.”
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re an idiot.”
“But I’m your idiot,” he countered with a wink and a show of the ring on his left hand, before nodding toward the dog. “The shelter had named him Biscuit by the way. Thought it was rather fittin’, if I do say so myself.”
Oh. Suddenly, everything became so clear to her. “That was the sign.”
“It was.”
Rebecca tilted her head, testing the name out as she gazed at the little dog. “Biscuit.” It rolled off her tongue as if it had always belonged there.
“See? It’s perfect, right?”
She glanced back at Ted, her man, her lovely husband, the one who had already given her the world more times than she could count. “Perfect.”
Moments later, they found themselves seated on the sofa, though somehow Rebecca had ended up with her legs perched on Ted’s lap, Biscuit nestled comfortably on top of them.
“This feels a bit backward,” she whispered, though she made no effort to move. Ted was usually the one somehow curled up on her lap. Of course, she did it too sometimes, but the other way around was definitely their more usual setup.
“Reckon it does,” Ted said, his arms settling around her. “But I ain’t complainin’.”
Biscuit gave a soft little bark, wriggling up to lick at Ted’s chin, and Rebecca laughed, resting her head against Ted’s shoulder.
“Well, Biscuit,” she said softly, her voice warm, “I can already see how much you love your dad, just like I do.”
Ted’s expression softened further, as if he couldn’t quite believe how much love surrounded him. His arms tightened around her ever so slightly, his voice a gentle hum in her ear. “Welcome home, little buddy.”
“We should FaceTime Henry,” she suggested. “Show him his little brother.”
Ted shot her a sheepish look, one that said more than words could. She’d come to know the Lasso expressions well.
“He already knows, doesn’t he?”
“Maybe I asked Hen how he’d feel about having a little brother, and if he thought I was pickin' the right one for you.”
“For us,” Rebecca corrected gently.
“That’s right, honey. My bad.” Then, with a sudden, “Oh!” Ted sprang up so quickly that Rebecca almost toppled off the couch, Biscuit tucked in her arms.
“What the hell, Ted?”
He dashed to his jacket, pulling something out with a grin that was all mischief, and walked toward her, something hidden behind his back. “Got a little surprise for ya!”
Rebecca tried to peek, but Ted tutted at her, settling back down on the couch with them. He handed her what looked like a vibrator, albeit a very small one.
“Are you kidding me? The dog wasn’t enough? One of our drawers is already packed with toys! What makes this one so special? Why did you–”
Ted only doubled over in laughter, his whole body shaking with it, as if he couldn’t catch his breath. His face was red, and the sound of his hearty laugh echoed in the room, a full, unrestrained burst of joy that seemed to come from deep inside him. He let out a wheeze, still struggling to catch his breath as he tried to explain. “So, I stopped by the pet shop before picking up Biscuit. Went in for food and supplies... and, well, got a little sidetracked.”
It was then that Rebecca noticed what was actually written on the vibrator, which, to her surprise, probably wasn’t a vibrator at all.
PediPaws.
“What the actual fuck?” She stared at the thing, utterly baffled.
Ted wiped tears from his eyes, laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath. Slowly, he settled back into the couch cushions, gently resting Rebecca’s legs across his lap again.
After a moment, he finally managed to speak, his voice still shaky with laughter. “Well, I just couldn’t pass it up, darlin’. First thing I thought was, ‘What the heck?’ just like you. Then I figured, what in the world would a furry little friend need with a vibrator? And then I thought, who am I to judge if they’re just tryin’ to have a little fun, y’know?”
Of course, he would rationalize pet vibrators if he could. Of course, he would buy something like this just to make her laugh, to laugh with her at what she’d think it was, and give her a story to remember.
Rebecca soon cut off his rambling with a kiss, laughter bubbling up in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself from kissing him, the joy he brought her spilling over with each press of her lips. But soon, that joy spilled into more laughter, making it impossible to kiss him the way he deserved.
After a quick Google search, despite her insistence to Ted that pet vibrators definitely weren’t a thing, they discovered the PediPaws was actually for trimming Biscuit’s nails.
They were still without food for the dog though, but a quick trip to the pet store would sort that out.
With laughter soon turning into contentment, with Ted under her and Biscuit curled up on her stomach, Rebecca felt a quiet contentment settle over her as both her darlings looked at her endearingly. She was overcome with a sense of peace she hadn’t always known. Life, with all its twists and heartbreaks, had brought her here. Right here.
And for the first time, she realized she was okay with everything she didn’t get because what she had was more than enough.
She’d made her peace with the past, knowing now that it had led her to a future where her heart always felt full. A lifetime of love with her three Lassos. Ted, Henry, and now Biscuit, were everything to her.
Of course, if Ted could hear her sappy thoughts, he’d only double down on the sentimentality. He’d flash her that boyish grin of his, dimple in tow, the same endearing glint in his eyes, and remind her that she was a Lasso now, too.
“And very proud to be,” she’d reply without missing a beat. Because she truly was.