At Whit's End (Wells Ranch, #4)(126)
Heading back into the fairgrounds, Jonas crosses his arms over his chest, attempting to cover as much of the design as he can. “Well, if I’m single forever, this is why.”
“That’s my shirt, and I owned it long before even meeting Whit.”
“That’s—you were almost thirty before you started dating. Your argument isn’t doing what you think it’s doing.” He dodges my backhanded swat. “Besides, you’re both weird as hell.”
Whit’s voice rings out through the crowd. “Who’s weird as hell?”
There’s my girl.
Whit gives me a once-over that ends with a look I know all too well. We’ll be sneaking into a private bathroom or convincing Jonas to have a sleepover at Theo’s house tonight, for sure. Knowing my horndog wife, probably both.
She sidles up next to me, and I hook a finger in the belt loop of her denim shorts. With a firm tug, she’s pressed against my side. “Hey, Mama.”
Whit’s arm slips around my waist. “Hey, baby. We’ve been looking for you guys.”
“We needed to go change—make ourselves look presentable.”
“Yeah, very presentable for a family-friendly fair.” With a laugh, she plucks at my shirt hem. “Good thing you’re cute.”
Pushing her hair away from her face, I gently press my lips to her temple.
God, she smells fucking good.
She drags her manicured black nails up and down my spine. “So, who’s weird?”
“You guys.” Jonas’s finger waggles between Whit and me.
She smiles at him. “Sorry about your luck, but I think that means you’re destined to be weird, too.”
Blair darts around a few people, giving her daughter a piggyback. She looks over Jonas’s outfit and laughs. “Cute shirt, kid. You look like a mini version of Colt.”
Impeccable timing.
“Oh my God. I should’ve put it on inside out or some shit.” His tone is completely exasperated.
Whit giggles. “Then you’d really be a mini-Colt.”
Jonas digs his fingertips into the creased skin between his eyebrows—mini-Whit style. “You guys exhaust me.”
“You love us,” I say at the same time Whit reaches over to poke his belly.
We really are the worst. And it is so much fun.
“Hey, congrats on the win, though.” Blair taps her nephew on the arm. “We should get inside and find some seats before Odessa’s turn. Lord help us if we miss it.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, if it’s not Kate reaming us out, it’ll be Odessa.”
With a wide-eyed nod, Jonas adds, “I don’t know which one’s scarier.”
We meander our way past food trucks and fair games. Whit’s tucked under my arm, and our son is begrudgingly hanging out with us.
When we got married on August thirteenth last year, I swore an oath to protect and love and cherish both of them. My vows were just as much to Jonas as they were to Whit. But our guests didn’t know I originally made those promises five years ago—when I turned my shirt inside out to put Whit’s mind at ease, when I took Jonas fishing after Alex fucked him over, and when I swore to always choose her as we danced in the middle of the driveway—and I’ve made them a million times since.
They’re all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever needed.
I’m right where I’m meant to be. Always.
Acknowledgments
As always, thank you to my husband and daughter for your love, support, celebratory ice cream cakes, and for always reminding me I’m enough. Thank you for being my home filled with love that has no conditions.
Speaking of love without conditions—my girls. My queens. Abby, Ceilidh, and Danie. You talked me down during some serious spirals with this one (even more than usual), so thank you for always having my back. I’m not sure where I’d be without you in my life, but I’m forever grateful to have you three. I wouldn’t want to send unhinged voice notes about hot dogs and “scuba dommy mommies” with anyone else.
Huge hugs to my girl, Kayla, for taking me under your wing when I was a baby author self-publishing my first book. And thank you for continuing to be by my side, always ready to vent, brainstorm, or give me a good pep talk.
Sarah—I love you, wifey. Thanks for being the other half of Sarah Bailey Hannah. Can’t wait to continue confusing everybody online (are they the same person? Sisters? Married?!).
Until I joined this amazing book community as an author, I was never the type to have a bunch of friends (if you’re wondering what part of Whit is based on my lived experience, there’s your answer). Now here I am, worried I’ll accidentally leave somebody out because the number of authors and readers I love is practically endless. So just know that if you’ve ever received insane voice messages from me and/or acted as the keeper of a secret I accidentally shared, your name deserves to be on a list in this book. I love you. Thanks for putting up with me.
To the beta readers and friends who unwittingly became a sounding board while I wrote this book, thank you for your feedback, hilarious comments, and guidance. And the biggest hugs to those who felt comfortable sharing their stories of hysterectomies and infertility with me. This story wouldn’t be what it is today without every one of you.