“Whatever you want, Firefly. Let me change.”
“Me too.” I tug away, but he catches the hem of his hoodie between his fingers.
“Don’t you dare.” His eyes trail down my body. “You look good in my clothes.”
I can’t keep from blushing, even if I tried.
I’m exhausted. The afternoon at the clinic was busy for a Friday. Especially since we had a patient fall out in the parking lot after one of Matthew’s sessions and we had to call 911. The EMTs showed up, so I got to see Brady in action.I was so proud of him.
I’m finally pulling into my driveway, exhausted but relieved. Parker texted this afternoon, saying he was bringing Trace homefrom the ranch. Maddox has been a lifesaver these last couple of weeks with Mom gone. He or Ivy have picked up Trace from school and let him piddle around the ranch until I was done with work.
The house is quiet when I step inside, but then the shrill of a power drill echoes down the hallway.Uh-oh.
“Hello?” I call out when the sound dies, placing my purse on the dining table.
“In here, Mama!” Trace shouts.
I amble down the hall to my bedroom where the racket is coming from. Parker and Trace sit on the floor, surrounded by plastic wrap and wooden beams.
“What’s going on?” I perch my hands on my hips.
“Hey, Firefly.” Parker glances up, his biceps flexing when he picks up a flat board. “We’re putting your bed together.”
“I didn’t buy a bed,” I volley back.
“I know.” He grins. “I did. I’m not having my girl sleeping with just a mattress on the floor.”
My stomach flutters.My girl.
“I have a bed. You need one too, Mama. You’re the queen of the house.” Trace inches closer to Parker on his knees, his attention focused on the instructions he attempts to read.
“Here, buddy. Can you hold this while I get more screws?” Parker hands Trace the piece before he climbs to his feet.
I leave my room, leading us out to the kitchen for some privacy. I lean against the counter and face him.
“Just add it to my tab,” I tease. “Thank you for doing that. You didn’t have to.”
He chuckles before he tugs off his cap.That cap.
“You still have it.” I stare down at the faded ball cap.
He rotates it, showcasing the bill with the barely legible black ink.
“Wear it every day,” he says, running his fingers over the words I wrote all those years ago.
Every Single Second.
Emotion builds in my chest as we stand in the empty kitchen.
“I kept my promise,” he says quietly. “To hold on. To not let go.”
I lift my head and he casually reaches out to run his thumb along my jaw. “But I wasn’t holding onto the rope. I was holding onto you. To those memories. That’s all I allowed myself over the years. Those eight seconds to drown inyou. To remember how you felt in my arms. It’s all I deserved. I really didn’t even deserve those seconds.”
Not allowing him to live in regret, I step forward and cup his face. “No more regrets. I’m here. You’re here.Weare here now. Together.”
He leans his forehead to mine.
“I love you,” I whisper, the confession bursting from deep within my soul. “I’ve loved you since I was seventeen.”
