“I wouldlovethat.”
Three days later, it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m at the Martin Farm, ready for what I hope will be a great surprise for my girls. It’s still crazy to think of them that way, but it feels so damn right in my soul. They’re mine. And I’m crazy about both of them.
Somehow I get a hand free and knock on the door. I hear footsteps running, and Abby’s gentle voice reminding Layla to wait for her before opening the door. I grin in anticipation, knowing both of them will see my surprise.
“Reid?” Abby says, but Layla’s squeal drowns it out.
“Are those candies? And gingerbread? Mom! Mr. Corser brought gingerbread houses!” She starts to take things from my hands, but there’s something I need to say to her first. When Abby and I were talking on the phone last night, I asked if I could let Layla call me by my first name. Abby’s agreement felt like a giant step forward for me, and made me really excited for this exact moment.
I glance at Abby to double-check she’s okay with this, and when she nods, I drop down to my knees.
“Hey, Layla girl, when I’m here to see you and your mom, how ‘bout you call me Reid.”
She stops and looks at me, and grins. “Does that mean you’re here for a sleepover?”
I chuckle and give her a wink. “Let’s start with gingerbread houses, okay?”
At that, Layla disappears into the house with bags of supplies, and Abby and I are alone on the porch. I lean forward and press a soft kiss to her cheek. “Hey, baby. Hope this is okay, Layla mentioned it was her favourite thing to do, but that you hadn’t the time to get the supplies.”
Abby just nods, her eyes shining. “I was actually going to head out and see if I could magically get my hands on a kit or something, I felt so badly. You saved the day.”
I puff out my chest at that and give her a goofy smile. “Just call me your knight in gingerbread armour.”
Abby giggles and rolls her eyes, but her hand comes up to my chest. “Uh huh, sure. How about I just call you my boyfriend?”
Fuck, that does something to me. I drop all of the bags I’m still holding and pull her into my arms. Our mouths meet and meld together until there’s no space left between us. All of my feelings, all of my wants and desires, they coalesce into this one, perfect moment. With this one, perfect woman.
Chapter nine
Abby
Let me let you in on a secret. Springtime on a farm is disgusting. Mud everywhere, including all over the animals. Nothing growing (at least nothing that looks pretty), and here on the West Coast, it does nothing but rain.
But even all of that can’t bring me down or make me question my decision to stay in Dogwood Cove permanently.
Why, might you ask?
Reid.
That man came into my life from nowhere, swept me — and my daughter — off our feet, and even has my Uncle Steve convinced he’s in it forever. Even though Uncle Steve doesn’t technically need me here on the farm with his leg being fully healed and all, it’s been great. Now that I don’t have to do as much of the hands-on dirty work, I’ve been able to put my marketing knowledge to work and spruce up his online presence. We’ve got big plans, including an open house Easter egg hunt, summer tours, and a pumpkin patch.
“Hey baby, fancy seeing you here.” Reid’s laughter reaches me, and I look up from where I’m hooking up one of Uncle Steve’s Jersey cows to the milking machine. I roll my eyes, but tilt my head up for a kiss just the same.
“You know, Christmas was months ago. You need to let the maids a-milking joke go.”
“Never. Not when I keep finding you with your hands squeezing and tugging like that.”
I swat at him. “Oh my God. Stop being so gross. What if Layla heard you?”
Reid grabs my hand in his and tugs me up to standing before wrapping me up in his warm embrace. His voice is a low rumble that sets me on fire, just like it always does. “Trust me, baby. Layla is nowhere near the barn right now. Steve has her out on the tractor checking the far fields, which means it’s just you, and me, and the cows.”
As if on cue, a lowmoocomes from a stall in the back and we both chuckle. Then the implication of what Reid said hits me, and my eyes widen.
“Wait. We’re alone? We have time by ourselves?”
He nods slowly.
“What the heck are we waiting for!” I grab his hand and pull him at a run toward the farmhouse. Even though Layla and I have moved into a townhouse close to Reid’s apartment, we still have a room set up at the farm in case we ever need to stay over. Or, in this case, for when Reid and I can magically steal a few minutes without a chatty and curious seven-year-old barging in.
