“Kiss me,” I demand again, tickling her, my fingers running more over the generous mounds on her chest than her actual ribs.
She arches her back. It is more for show than annoyance.
“Ryan!” Savannah squeals when I up the ante. “I swear to god, if you make me pee my pants, I won’t speak to you for a week.”
“I’ve had worst,” I jest, laughing.
I continue my onslaught, loving that it seems like we’ve stepped back in time. When I am with Savannah, I truly feel free of burden. I will alwaysfeel guilt for what happened to Chris. What I said to him when he killed himself will stay with me for eternity, but with Savannah’s help, I’ve realized Chris never intended to be here for the long haul. He wanted an out; I gave him one—it just wasn’t in the manner I had believed.
He didn’t want to leave his brother, so by me promising to look after Noah, he finally felt at peace with his decision. Was it the right one for him to make? No. Never. But I am glad he has found peace.
I’m drawn from my thoughts when a pair of smaller hands joins my campaign in tickling Savannah into submission. Rylee bombards her mother’s ribs, making sure she doesn’t press too hard on the little curve peeking out of Savannah’s pajamas.
The beautiful roundness of her stomach proves that wishes can come true. You’ve just got to put in the hard work first, because whether you have millions in your bank account or not even two nickels to rub together, life isn’t easy. Everything you want, you have to fight for. That includes love.
After placing a kiss on the two letter name scrawled on Savannah’s lower left hip, I continue tickling her ribs. Savannah claims she got her “Ry” tattoo in the weeks following Rylee’s birth as a commemoration, but she is as bad at lying as she is at saying no to Rylee. If it were solely for Rylee, she would have had gotten her whole name. It represents me as well.
By the time I’m hunched over with a stomach cramp from laughing so hard, Savannah’s face is as red as a beetroot. Happiness isn’t the cause of her inflamed cheeks, though. She looks moments away from murdering someone.
As she charges into the bathroom like a woman on a mission, my eyes swing to Rylee. “I think we made Mommy mad?”
Rylee grins an adorable dimpled smile before nodding.
“Should we make her something yummy for breakfast to make up for it?”
Her smile turns blinding.
“Alright, jump on.” She leaps onto my back before my offer is fully issued.
“What do you think your little brother will let mommy hold down this morning?” I ask Rylee as we giddy-up into my kitchen.
“Hmm. . .” When I place her on the kitchen counter, she taps her index finger on her pursed lips. “Fruit Loops?”
My brows furrow. “Do you think Fruit Loops will stop Mommy from being sick?”
My deep tone is smothered with uncertainty. Savannah has a hard time keeping down toast, so I don’t think she’ll fair well with sugary cereal and full cream milk.
Rylee shakes her head. “No, but the toilet will look pretty after she vomits.”
I throw my head back and laugh.Stick me with a fork, ladies and gentlemen. I am fucking done.If I hadn’t already worked this out months ago, there is no doubting it now. Not only is Savannah Fontane, the prettiest and most entrancing woman in Ravenshoe, but my god, so is her daughter.
* * *
“Please be careful,” Savannah begs, handing me the cannister of coffee she made when I announced a break in Brax’s case required me to go back in after only an hour of sleep. “Do you think you’ll see Brax today?”
I nod. “I’ll drop in to update him on what Nate discovered before heading to the office. Why?”
She tries not to smile. She shouldn’t have bothered. Her dimples give away when she is smiling even without her lips moving.
“Can you give him this for me?” She doesn’t hide her grin when she hands me a white paper bag.
Her shit-eating smirk morphs onto my face when I peer into the bag. There is a twelve pack of magnum condoms nestled in the middle.
“You were over the moon when you discovered I was pregnant. I have a feeling Brax might not be so eager to join the parenting club just yet.”
I laugh. “I think he’d shit bricks.”
“Most men would,” Savannah agrees, smiling.
