Chaos series by Kristen Ashley

He remembered that shot. It was the first photo she’d placed in the first album of them she’d made.

It was the first picture of them ever taken.

He looked across the bed and saw another frame, this one crystal.

In it was also another eight-by-ten.

In it was High sitting on the couch in their living room with his girls piled on him, his arms wrapped around all of them. Millie in his lap. Cleo in hers. Zadie on top. Cleo had hold of Poem. Zadie had hold of Chief.

They’d been horsing around, so none of his girls were looking in the camera. They were all too busy giggling.

High was looking into the camera.

He was not laughing.

You didn’t laugh when you held a living dream in your arms.

It was the last photo of them ever taken since Elvira had snapped that shot a week ago.

As ever, when Millie wanted something done and done right, she didn’t fuck around.

The picture was in its fancy-ass frame and sitting on her nightstand the next day.

High looked from frame to frame and as he did, he knew he’d gotten it wrong.

His Zadie had it right.

Never give up.

Never quit dreaming.

Because dreams had a way of being.

You just had to keep hold.

Millie

When the boat stopped, the girls jumped up from their seats and moved toward the exit as I called, “Hurry! It’s gonna happen any second. I don’t want you to miss it! We’ll catch up!”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Cleo and Zadie dashed ahead.

Logan and I, his hand wrapped warm around mine, followed them slowly.

We’d already been there that day because I’d wanted the girls to see the blooms on the trees.

But, of course, we also had to get there in the night.

We sauntered off the boat, Logan and me, hand in hand, and I knew he was keeping an eye on his girls as I did the same.

We got there in time. We stopped underneath. The girls were roaming, eyes up, waiting.

Logan didn’t roam.

He pulled me into his arms.

I didn’t lift my eyes up as in up, but I did lift my eyes.

To his.

“Today’s no different,” he murmured, his voice low but also scratchy.

Responding to his tone, I pressed closer, wrapping my arms tighter around his back.

“What, Snooks?” I asked quietly.

“Today’s been fuckin’ great, love givin’ all my girls a spectacular spring break, but it’s no different.”

“Different than what?”

“Different than all the rest.”

I tilted my head to the side, confused.

“All the rest of what?”

“All the rest of days, every one, every day since I first laid eyes on you. Today’s no different. Fuck of it was, even when I didn’t have you, I felt it. Which was why I never let go. And today’s no different. No different from every day I had from the first day we met. Waking up in love with you. Day’s almost done, gonna go to sleep more in love with you.”

My breath caught.

My heart skipped a beat.

My arms convulsed.

My eyes filled with tears.

And my throat felt funny as I forced through it, “Ditto.”

He shook his head, grinning. “You are such shit at that.”

I was.

But it didn’t matter.

With his flowery biker goodness, he made up for it.

And anyway, I had other ways of telling him I loved him.

So I did that, rolling up on my toes as he dipped his head, and in between, our mouths met.

I saw sparks on the backs of my eyelids just as they did.

It wasn’t (all) Logan’s kiss.

It was the Eiffel Tower above us bursting into beauty.