Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“We guys have to stick together, duh. Well, unless it comes to a brother or sister. I think I’m going to have to do some research on this topic.” I don’t know who looks more scared, Graham or myself.
“Uh, um, we’ll have to see about that,” I stammer. Graham chuckles at my response.
“Son, I’m thinking you may not be ready for that kind of research. You may not like the pictures or the words that are used.” I make a mental not to take a look at his tablet. I know our son he’s probably two steps ahead of us.
“Figures.” Logan drops the subject, thankfully. I mouth to Graham, “I love you.” He responds with the same thing he always does, his hand over his heart, and says, “You’re my purpose.” I couldn’t ask for a better man, husband, or father. Graham Larson is all that wrapped in one.
Epilogue
Graham
Six Years Later
“I think it’s time Logan and I have the birds and the bees talk,” I tell Faith. We’re having a get-together in our backyard. Wren and Caleb are here, along with Beau and Lily. There’s a pile of kids between the three families, but Logan is getting awfully close to a girl named Sunny. She lives down the road, having moved to Cherry Falls recently, and they have several classes together.
“Oh God, don’t tell me. Already?” Faith doesn’t see it, but I sure do.
“Babe, he’s got hair under his arms, he’s sporting a mustache that most grown men can’t grow, and his showers are getting longer. It’s time.” I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back to my front.
“You’re right. I just don’t want to admit it. I’d rather bury my head in the sand. I feel like it was only yesterday he was playing with Legos.” She sinks back into me. While Logan is practically staring at Sunny with stars in his eyes, our little girl, Maribelle, is running around chasing butterflies without a care in the world.
“Those days are over. We have to be smart. I am not ready to be a grandparent at a young age, and neither are you.” I chuckle because I know Faith would lose her mind with me just bringing that up.
“Take it back right now, Graham Larson.” She spins around in my arms, her hands moving to my shoulders, mine wrapping around her waist. Faith and I thought we’d try for a third child, but after two years of trying, it never happened, so we decided I’d close up shop. Plus, it was one less addition that needed to be added to our house. We had one of each, it was enough to make us a family.
“You never know, but I’ll talk to him. When Maribelle gets to this age, it’s all on you, though.” A shiver works its way down my back. I know you’re not supposed to think differently of your kids. But I swear it’s easier with a boy. You can tell them the facts, they’ll ask a few questions, and then it’s over. That won’t be the case with Maribelle. The talk Faith will have with her will probably last a full year, if not more.
“I already figured that out, but don’t go into full detail with Logan? Not yet at least. He may be going through puberty, but he’s still a boy. My little boy.” Faith’s voice gets soft. It was hard enough on her this year when Logan asked to start riding the bus instead of us carting him to school.
“I wasn’t going to. I will tell him that certain shit needs to stay contained.” I watch as Faith visibly shutters.
“Okay, we’re done with this conversation now. I can’t handle much more, or I’ll be going after my third margarita.” That makes me grin. My woman is a lightweight when it comes to her drinking, but boy, are the rewards worth it.
“You have another one, then we’ll call this barbecue over, I’ll take you inside, lock the kids out, and give you what you need.” I dip my head and take her lips. We may have two children, a buttload of friends, a job that runs Faith ragged with my odd hours, and sometimes it makes her want to throttle me for being a Sheriff, but one thing is for sure, the two of us have a love that will never fucking end.
“Can we do that now?” Her face is soft, her body language telling me what she really wants.
“Soon, baby, soon.”
“Mom, Dad, knock it off. That’s so gross.” Maribelle comes running towards us. I step back, knowing that our little girl who looks so much like Faith but has my personality, easy going and relaxed, will plow between us.
“Never, baby girl. Your momma is too pretty to ever stop,” I respond.
“Smooth talker, you,” Faith says.