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“Actually…” Fuck. “They were the ones who came in and kinda helped me come up with that.”
“My mom was okay with the justice of the peace?”
“Yeah, she was cool with it. Especially after I explained why I wanted that bit to be like that.” I nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see me. Emi’s parents got married by a justice of the peace, and since they were no longer with us, she didn’t want to walk down the aisle alone, which I understood completely.
“Sounds good, beautiful. Whatever you want, as long as it means you’re mine.”
“Already am.” A deep sound vibrated through my chest.
“Your place or mine?” I asked. I was getting tired of this two-place thing, but as I looked out at the horizon, knowing our home would soon be built, I would deal.
“Mine, if that’s okay? I need to do some laundry and?—”
“No need to explain, baby,” I muttered. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Need me to stop and get anything?”
“Just you.”
“You got me,” I promised. “See you soon,” I whispered, and we ended the call. I hurried to her place because I was jonesing for my girl something fierce.
Epilogue
Emi- a couple of years later
Spring hit Odyssey a little quicker than it usually did, but I wasn’t complaining after the cold winter we’d had. I sat down on the rocking chair, setting a glass of lemonade on the table next to me. The sun was shining brightly, and I had to put my hand over my eyes to get a better look of where my boys were.
Boys.
Three of them. Each one as different as they could be. Night, day, and afternoon different. But each one loving and sweet in their own way.
I watched them run around our backyard, and I laughed as a water balloon went flying in the sky and hit my youngest. Since he was the smallest one, you would think he’d be babied, but he was my fearless one. He simply ran toward the tub that held the balloons, grabbed as many as he could, and tossed one after the other at his older brothers, decking both on the back as they ran from him. He had an arm, or at least that’s what my handsome husband liked to say.
I rubbed my swollen belly before grabbing my cup of lemonade and sipped at the cool drink I had been craving. When we found out we were expecting a fourth, I’d been terrified.Between the ranch, the diner, the community garden, and our boys, who played every sport known to man, our hands were more than full; they were overflowing.
But my cowboy reminded me that it simply meant we were blessed, and I knew he was right. Our buckets were full of blessings, and the little girl growing and currently kicking was just one more to add to our never-ending list.
Thankfully, the diner basically ran itself now. Maya and I still worked there, but it was our manager, Beth, who really took care of the nitty-gritty. And the community garden had so many volunteers that I only really went there about once or twice a week now.
“How are my girls?” my husband’s voice drawled behind me. I rocked forward, about to get up when he shook his head and walked over to me, kneeling in front of me. “Don’t get up. Rest,” he ordered, and I rolled my eyes.
“Bossy.”
“You like it when I get bossy.” His lips twitched, and we both knew he was thinking about early in the morning when he reminded me of his bossy he could be in the most sinful, toe-curling way.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, and he was chuckling when he kissed me.
Our life was good. Full and rich with laughter and love.
Our boys chose that moment to notice daddy was home, and they didn’t hesitate to rush over and take him away. I sat in my rocking chair, feeling our daughter kick in my belly, and was hit with a wave of emotion. It happened a lot.
Moments where the beauty of the life we had created was so big and grand it just made me want to burst with joy. The life we’d taken a chance on had most definitely paid off, and I only had my handsome cowboy to thank.
That’s not to say life hadn’t had its share of highs and lows. It most definitely had. Especially when our middle son was born and our oldest got a case of chicken pox in what felt like the same week. Or when a pipe burst in the diner on that first trip Clay had to make when our youngest had just been born, and I’d had to deal with what felt like everything. But no matter what storm came our way, we always held on to one another, knowing the other always had our back.
Clay liked to call me his peace, but for me, he was my rock.
The person who gave me more than a place to belong but a family once again, something I thought I’d never have after my parents passed. I wiped away the tears and stood up, moving to get dinner ready, when I felt a wetness gush between my legs. My sudden stop must have caught not just my husband but my three boys’ attention because it felt like everything in the backyard went still.
“Clay.” My head popped up, but my cowboy was already on his way with a shit-eating grin. “I think it’s time.”
“We got this,” he reassured me.
There were moments in the next thirty-six hours when I wasn’t sure if we had anything, but by the thirty-seventh, I remembered I should never doubt my big guy. And even though it bugged me when he was right as I stared into my daughter’s bright blue eyes, I couldn’t get myself to do anything but smile with gratitude and peace.
The end
