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“Congratulations,” he says, leaning in to kiss me. He covertly wipes away my tears while his face is pressed against mine, and I’m grateful for the sweet gesture. When he tries to step back, I don’t let him. I squeeze him tight and hang on for just a little longer, needing his calming presence. His hand hits my stomach, right over our baby, and my eyes squeeze shut. Just like that, I feel like I can tackle the world again. I peel back and smile up at him.
“Thank you.”
And though he stays by my side, that’s the last chance we have for a private word because everyone else is rushing in now: Isla and Tanner, McKenna and my mom, even Jeremy and Khloe drove in from San Antonio with their daughter Mia, who Andrew happens to think is the coolest person he’s ever met.
I get tugged aside for what I think is a photo with my mom, but McKenna’s actually recording us instead.
“Okay! Here we are at Taylor’s college graduation. Taylor, tell us what you majored in!” She sounds like one of those cheesy dads recording his family opening gifts on Christmas morning. Timmy, tell the camera what Santa brought you!
I roll my eyes but still play along. “Construction engineering and project management.”
She laughs. “Wow, that’s a mouthful! And what do you plan on doing now that you’ve officially graduated?”
“I’ll be working as a project manager at Lockwood Construction.”
Everyone already knows this. It’s been the plan all along, ever since Robert took me under his wing and started showing me the ropes all those years ago.
“And tell us, are you nervous about taking on your new role? Knowing you might have to deal with stubborn men who don’t like the idea of a woman running the show on a jobsite?”
My eyes find Ethan and he’s visibly amused, knowing where my thoughts are headed before I even have to open my mouth.
“You know what? I like to think I’ve had some pretty good practice dealing with stubborn men.”Later that night, after the chaos of the day, Ethan and I are in the kitchen, tidying up. Well, he’s tidying up and I’m sitting on a barstool, eating another piece of the cake McKenna and Isla made for my graduation party. There are layers of fresh fruit and homemade buttercream frosting and I’ve made it my life’s mission to ensure that not a single crumb goes to waste. No crumbs left behind is my new motto.
“How are you doing over there, Mrs. Stone?” Ethan asks, smirking at me over his shoulder.
I give him a wide smile as I bring another forkful of cake to my mouth. “Just making sure the baby is well fed, that’s all.”
He arches a brow and shakes his head before turning back to rinse off the last dish.
He’s absolutely delectable—maybe even more so than the cake.
His suit jacket and tie are long gone. His shirtsleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and his suit pants fit him to a T. I’m looking at his butt, filling my head with wicked ideas when my mom walks out of the hallway and interrupts my stream of thought.
“Okay, Andrew’s officially asleep,” she says, grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter and slinging it over her shoulder.
“Took you a while,” I tease.
“Well, how am I supposed to say no when he asks for ‘just one more book’? Before I realized it, we’d read a dozen, just like always. It’s that charm of his—he has too much of it.”
I smirk. “Blame his father.”
“It’s all Taylor,” Ethan refutes.
My mom shakes her head and walks toward me, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
My throat squeezes tight with emotion as I offer up a little smile.
“Still need me to watch Andrew next Saturday?” she asks, heading for the door.
“If you can. We’ve got that fundraiser for his school.”
“All right. I’ll have Simone close the salon for me that day. I should be able to get here around dinner time.”
For the one-thousandth time, I think of how grateful I am that my mom moved to Austin once McKenna started at UT. I love that we’re all in the same city now.
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
“Thanks again, Anne. Here, I’ll walk you out,” Ethan says, drying his hands on a towel so he can see her to her car.
When he walks back into the kitchen and meets my gaze, my dirty thoughts from a few moments ago come roaring back hotter than ever. It makes no sense. We’ve been married for years. We sleep in the same bed every night. The man has seen me give birth and breastfeed and cry and bleed, and yet he looks at me with the same level of need he did all those years ago, like I’m still the most seductive woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
