Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
My heart swells.
“And the last one is you,” he says softly.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and bury my head in his neck. “Will you do me a favor, husband?”
“Always, wife.”
“Before we go to your mom’s and see my mom, will you take me into our bedroom and make love to me?”
He pulls back. “Our bedroom. I think I love that just as much as wife.”
“I love you.” I take his face in my hands. “I never doubted you’d come for me. I knew I just had to make it until you arrived.”
His face sobers. “Those were the most terrifying moments of my life. I’m so impressed with how you kept it together, Mrs. Carmichael. You amaze me, and I love you. So much.”
He sweeps me off the counter, carrying me down the hallway.
We have a lot to figure out—logistics, another wedding, a criminal trial.
Not long ago, I would’ve been so consumed with work that I would’ve overlooked my blessings. Because this, being laid gently on a bed with the kindest, smartest, hottest man in the world preparing to show me how much he loves me—this is what it’s all about. This is the blessing. Family is the blessing.
And alongside the vows I made to Foxx, I also vow never to forget this too. No matter what life throws at us or how busy we get or how monumental the day seems, if we have each other, if we keep fanning our flame, we’ll be just fine.
Epilogue
BIANCA
Six months later …
Paige: STOP IT WITH THE TEXTS, GUYS. I MEAN IT.
Jess: I’m sorry. What are you talking about?
Banks: What do you mean? Do you want removed from this chat?
Moss:
Maddox: Stop the texts? What?
I laugh, looking across the table as all of them sit next to each other and text their sister back.
“Hope it was worth it,” Moss says.
“What have you guys been texting her?” I ask.
“Different ways to prepare shrimp,” Maddox says.
“Facts about rocks,” Moss says.
Jess laughs. “Chicken facts.”
“Of course,” I say, giggling.
“I send her random pages of books. Get it?” Banks says, cracking himself up. “Paige. Pages. I’m so damn funny.”
Foxx laces his fingers protectively around my middle and snuggles against me. He doesn’t participate in the text war. His notifications are silenced—except for mine.
I’m sitting on his lap at Damaris’s table on this beautiful Sunday morning. The rest of the girls went out for brunch, which always included mimosas. Lots of them. Knowing it would be too awkward to pass—and it would invariably draw too much attention to me—I told them that I was meeting Becca before she heads to Savannah. And I am meeting Becca this afternoon. But I really just don’t want them to know I’m pregnant yet. I want to enjoy the secret with my husband for as long as I can.
“Oh, was that a car door?” Maddox asks.
“Shit! I have to FaceTime Paige,” Banks says. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”
“Hey,” she says.
“Quick, Mom is coming,” he tells her, flipping the camera around.
“Oh, good. I’m not going to miss it. Yay!” she says.
We all exchange a smile and turn toward the living room … and wait.
Kixx’s voice is louder than usual. It’s the predetermined signal that they’re getting ready to walk in. He comes in first, blocking the view. Moss gives him a thumbs-up, and Kixx steps to the side.
“I don’t know why you insist on looking there again,” Damaris says, frustration thick in her voice. “We’ve looked at their furniture every month for a year now and they never—oh, my God.”
“Surprise!” everyone shouts.
She covers her mouth. Her shoulders slump. Her eyes nearly fall out of her head as she takes in her new furniture.
“Obviously they prioritized correctly,” Banks says. “Because my wrestling singlet is front and center.”
“You paid extra for them to do that, didn’t you?” Moss asks.
“No. It’s just obviously the coolest piece of merch we sent.”
“It’s not merch, you fool,” Jess says, rolling his eyes.
“It’s your jerseys,” Damaris says, dropping her hands. “Guys! Oh, my. How did you do this? I’m … speechless.”
“We knew you’d miss the sentimental aspect of the old couch,” Banks says. “I mean, my SpaghettiOs stain has made it all these years. So we wanted to give you something that still made you think of us.”
Moss gets up and joins her in the living room. We all take his lead and join them, too.
They take turns pointing out different pieces of fabric and laughing about related stories associated with that particular garment. There are baseball shirts, pieces of singlets, and football jerseys. A hockey jersey, too. But hidden among those pieces of fabric are swatches of their baby clothes. I think those hit the hardest for Damaris.
“Do you think she thinks this is the couch?” Kixx whispers, leaning against the wall beside us.
I grin. “It kind of looks like it.”