You & Me: An M|M Single Dads Romance

“We are a family,” Landon said. Bowen and Emmet nodded. “We always have been.”
I kissed Landon’s cheek. “We just needed to find each other.”

I loved Landon more than I thought it was possible to love another. Landon was more than my lover, or my partner, or the man of my dreams. He’d become the foundation of my soul.

Emmet lifted his head and smiled. He wrapped his hands around Bowen and Landon’s arms and squeezed, drawing them closer into our huddle.
I tipped my head against Landon’s, my heart and soul too full to hold on to this moment any longer. Everything was brimming over, everything was perfect, with all three of the men I loved more than life itself in my arms.
This is how we were meant to be. This is what our life was meant to be.
Family.

I craved him. I needed him. Not sex—which I hungered for like a dog scratching at the door, a constant, sizzling burn under the surface of my skin—but him. His presence, his grounding. His love. I was raw, gouged open, my soul-deep bruises and holes exposed, and I needed Landon to fill me, for all that goodness and light that burned inside of him to find my cracks and crevices.

A child isn’t the same, though. A child can unlove you. A child can look at you and find you wanting, realize you’re not great, not wonderful. Parents don’t get a free pass on a lifetime of love. Blood loyalty doesn’t run upstream. If you’re a terrible parent, there’s no obligation for your child to love you after the nightmares you’ve put them through. A child’s love is hard-fought, hard-won. You have to earn it.
Love you, Dad.

Emmet leapt to his feet and threw both of his fists in the air. He spun, turned to the skywalk, and punched a finger at me before he pounded his chest right over his heart.
I love you, too, Em. I love you, too.

“He does it all to show his dad that he loves him,” he’d mumbled. “To try and prove to a ghost that he’s a son his dad can finally really love.” He’d shrugged and sunk into himself, hunched his spine, clenched his fork until his knuckles went white.
“His dad should have told him he didn’t need to prove anything at all and that he was perfect exactly as he was.”

“Luke.” He whispered my name and kissed my palm. He hesitated before he spoke again, as if he was pulling a secret out of himself, putting words together he’d never spoken aloud. “I think,” he began, “you’re the man I was dreaming about.” Another kiss, folded into my hand. “You’re the man I dreamed about all those years ago when I was struggling to find myself. You’re him. You’re the man I’ve been searching for my whole life.”
He pressed my hand to his cheek and closed his eyes as his tears started to fall.

God, I loved him so much, more than I believed it had been possible to love another person. He was the other half of me. I’d been incomplete until I’d found him.

“Where did you come from?” His words were whisper soft. “How did you find me?”
He had it all wrong. How had he found me?