At Whit's End (Wells Ranch, #4)(124)
“Now I’m extra thankful you and Denny moved in down the street. Whenever I have to deal with Jonas’s attitude, I’m coming over for baby snuggles.”
“So you’ll be over every day.” She laughs through her tears. “Noted.”
I crawl across the couch, wrapping my arms around her as tears stream down both of our faces. For a long time—through at least four movie trailers—we stay that way without either uttering a word. When I finally sit back up, she blinks away the last of her tears. Her cheeks are flushed, eyelashes soaked, and despite all the happiness bubbling right under the surface, there’s a tinge of trepidation in her smile.
“You can be happy about this. I’m happy for you. I’m okay.” I sniff. “I might’ve had a negative reaction to finding out about Alex having another kid, but I’m so fucking excited to snuggle my future niece or nephew. And more than that, you and Denny deserve this.
“Being a mom is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Sure, sometimes it’s also absolute dogshit, and you can vent to me when you have a preteen who loves to point out all the things you’re doing wrong. But it’s all worth it, B. The amount of love you’re about to feel for this tiny human is unlike anything else.”
“I was a little nervous to tell you, but—”
My heart sinks. “I’m sorry. You should’ve been able to barge in the door waving a pregnancy test in my face and jumping for joy. Let’s try again.”
I stand, ushering her toward the front door, even as she’s laughing and arguing that it’s too cold to go outside with no shoes or sweater on. I push her through and shut it in her face.
And when she steps back inside less than thirty seconds later, waving an invisible pregnancy test in the air, we laugh and we scream and we cry a whole lot more.
* * *
? ? ?
Colt’s voice rings through the house.
Turning the dryer on, I step out into the hallway and shut the door to dampen the racket. I pass Jonas on the stairs and give his hair a quick ruffle, which he groans about. Betty’s right behind him, happily trotting into his bedroom to sprawl out on his bed while he plays video games.
“Hi, beautiful,” Colt greets me at the bottom of the stairs. His voice drops a few octaves, taking on a sensual gruffness, and his head motions toward the laundry room. “Is that a sign that you need me to ‘fix your dryer’ for you?”
I hug him, because feeling his firm chest and strong arms wrapped around my body is the only thing I’ve been able to think about since Blair left an hour ago. He’s my person. My safe space.
“Are you crying?” His thumb catches under my jaw, trying to lift my eyes to meet his.
I am crying, though I don’t fully understand why.
“What’s the matter?” he asks softly, keeping me close as he walks us toward the couch. And when I stumble back, falling into the well-worn cushions, he’s quick to sit down next to me. Our legs brush and his thumb scrubs across my cheek. He leans in and kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger until I let out a breathy exhale indicating I’m ready to talk.
“Blair’s pregnant.”
“Oh…” His eyes narrow. “Honey, I’m…shit. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m happy for her. Like really happy for her. Both her and Denny. They needed this happy ending after everything they went through when they were younger.”
“So we’re crying because…we’re happy?”
“I don’t even know.” I snort a laugh at myself. “I’m just crying. I’m feeling all the things today, I guess. One of them being the need to tell you that…if a baby is something you really want, we can find a way. I was quick to shut down your suggestion of adoption, which was really fucking selfish. I want us to be a family forever, so…”
“Our family—we’re already a family, and it’s going to be a forever thing—it can be whatever we decide it needs to be. We don’t need to decide right this second or even a few years from now.”
“I’m just saying…”
He takes my hand in his, callused skin sliding across my trembling fingers. “If Denny and Blair’s baby gives me baby fever—and somehow Jonas’s smelly socks and ruthless insults don’t immediately squash it—we’ll talk about it. But right now, this is exactly where I want to be. Right here. With you.”
“That’s where I want you, too. Here.”
He leans in, lips brushing lightly over mine in an almost-kiss. “Then I guess we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.”
Epilogue: Colt (5 years later)
Baked in midsummer heat, the fairgrounds buzz with excitement. Though at least inside the ventilated barn, it’s a bit cooler. Jonas leans back against the fence rail, slurping the last of his celebratory slushy drink. At fifteen, he’s only an inch or two shy of my height and—thanks to busting his ass every day on the ranch—he’s damn near as strong. Though I guess it makes sense, given how much he eats.
Jonas holds the cup through the rails, silently asking me to toss it in a nearby trash can for him, and gets to work making sure his show steer has everything it needs before we head out to enjoy the fair.