Page 106 of The Woman in the Warehouse

Where we would all sit around the table.

Eating.

Talking.

Laughing.

As I was told many years ago, you didn’t ever really get used to the noise, but, God, did you learn to love the company, the security, the family.

There were broken pieces in my mom’s heart, Keith’s heart, and my own that had been filled thanks to this amazing group of people.

It was enough to take my breath away at times.

“Yeah,” I said, watching everyone through the door. “Just really happy,” I told him, leaning into him.

His arms went around me, pressing a kiss to my head.

“We poured the concrete on that new job site this morning,” he told me.

“Do I want to know how many bodies are under it?” I asked, smirking up at him.

He smiled back, leaning down to seal his lips to mine. It was quick, just a hint of something we both silently agreed we needed to continue at home later.

His hand moved up my arm, over my shoulder, then slipped under the collar of my shirt to pull my necklace out of the material until the bullet was visible.

He’d had it made into a necklace for our first anniversary.

I’d never taken it off since.

His fingers traced the chain back up, then slid around my neck.

“Have I thanked you for carjacking me eleven years ago?” he asked.

“Only every other day,” I said, heart still so full of love for this big, clumsy, amazing man.

“What do you say to the kids staying with my mom tonight, then you and me, and a bag of gummy fish in bed?”

“You know the way to a girl’s heart,” I said.

And, fuck, he really did.

Even if he tripped and stumbled and fell flat on his face along the way.