A little while later, Madison disappeared to feed Olive, and I found Blair standing in the nursery, her fingers gently brushing the edge of the crib.
“She’s lucky,” she said softly. “To have a mom like that. A village.”
I came up behind her, resting my hands on her hips. “She has you, too.”
Blair turned, eyes soft. “And I have you.”
“Forever, if you’ll let me.”
She leaned up and kissed me, gentle, certain, and completely home.
And just like that, Wisteria Creek didn’t feel like a place I’d stayed behind in. It felt like the place where I was meant to build something new with her.
Chapter 33
Blair
There’s something weirdly vulnerable about unpacking boxes in someone else’s home, even if that someone is the man you love.
Greyson had cleared out a whole closet for me, even added little hooks near the front door for my keys, like it was already decided that this would be my home too. Still, as I stood in the middle of his bedroom with a box labeled ‘Blair – Books’, I felt like I was hovering between lives.
“Are you organizing or just emotionally preparing to make a mess?” Greyson’s voice called from the hallway.
I looked over my shoulder to find him leaning against the doorframe, holding two mugs of coffee. One of them had a chipped rim and saidCaffeine Queenin pink letters. My favorite.
“I’m assessing the terrain,” I said, reaching for the mug with a smirk. “Thank you.”
He stepped into the room, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, and sat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve only got five boxes.”
“I travel light.”
“Or you have commitment issues.”
I gave him a playful shove. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward him until I was standing between his knees, his hands sliding up the sides of my thighs.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “You are.”
We stayed like that for a moment, just breathing the same air, soaking in the quiet comfort of belonging.
Then he tapped the box with his foot. “Wanna unpack your books first? Start with something that feels like you.”
I smiled and set my coffee down. “Good idea.”
We opened the box together, and I started pulling out paperbacks and dog-eared hardcovers, stacking them onto his dresser until it looked more like a library than a bedroom. He didn’t mind. He even reached in and pulled out my worn copy ofLittle Women.
“This one’s got battle scars,” he said, flipping through its fragile pages.
“I’ve had that since I was ten. I used to highlight the romantic parts like they were gospel.”
Greyson glanced up, grinning. “Did Jo and Laurie kiss in this version?”
“Sadly, no. But I wanted them to.”
He stood and placed the book gently on the shelf by the window. “I think you’re the first girl to move in here and bring Louisa May Alcott with her.”
“Damn. How many girls have moved in?”
