Page 126 of Peaches & Pistols

“I’m hoping you’ll be happy for both of us, well, all four of us,” he says nervously.

“Of course I am. I go where you go, Greyson. Your happiness is my happiness.” His callouses meet my palms when I give them a double squeeze.

He must be satisfied with my assurance, because he turns me by the hand to see what I’ve had my back to.

A large log cabin sprawls beneath the clouds, shaded by the towering aspen and evergreen trees surrounding us.

“My plot of land includes the original ranch house, back from when this was an operational cattle ranch, going back generations. The family’s maintained it over the years, and as it stands, it’s completely livable—it’s passed all safety inspections, and any immediate issues were fixed. We could move in tomorrow if you wanted. But if you’ll hear me out—” I press a finger to his rambling lips.

“There’s nothing to hear out. This is more than I ever dreamed of. Whatever you want to do with this house, my answer is yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, babe. I’m unquestionably a yes.”

Greyson answers by picking me up and spinning us in a circle.

“Do you want to see it?” he asks.

I pinch his side hard enough he slaps my hand away.

“Damn, woman. What was that for?”

“Of course I want to see it!” I chastise playfully.

When he doesn’t immediately move, I push on his Wrangler butt to get it in gear.

“Show me everything!”

We walk the exterior first. The cabin is an “L” shape with multiple entryways. The logs are in amazing condition and freshly sealed. The windows are on the newer side which will be a lifesaver during deep winter.

Greyson explains how he plans to build a large hybrid building to serve as our garage, shed, and workshop. He asks if I want a stable built outside for Pickle, and I break my own “yes to everything” promise and say no. Pickle is such a social boy, he’d be miserable out here alone when he’s happy in the main stables.

Working our way inside, the cabin is laid out with one wing of the “L” as bedrooms, the other wing housing the kitchen, dining area, and family room.

A couple bathrooms are sprinkled throughout the cabin, and Greyson details how he plans to break down a wall between the two back bedrooms and adjacent bathroom to make a master suite. He also plans to convert two bedrooms with a bathroom between into a Jack and Jill layout for the girls.

Seeing as this cabin housed numerous children and the occasional ranch worker, there are a ton of bedrooms. We excitedly discuss a playroom, an office—a freaking home library. When Greyson mentioned creating an exterior door in the library so I could have fresh air and easily access the porch, I nearly kissed him to death.

Our tour lands us back in the kitchen, where Greyson’s hoisted me onto the counter and is standing between my legs, massaging my thighs.

“For the kitchen, I’m gonna need your input, honey. I want you to have the double ovens and humongous fridge, and whatever features will make cooking easiest for you. You’ve already mastered it though, seeing as you already spoil us in the apartment’s tiny kitchen.”

Greyson pats his softening belly as evidence of his love of my cooking.

“I hope I didn’t overwhelm you talking about how this house has always been jam packed with kids. Back then, there wasn’t birth control, and more kids meant more hands to help on the ranch. Times have changed, and I wasn’t implying we need to fill the house with kids,” he says sheepishly.

“I know you didn’t mean any of it that way. Don’t worry about it.”

“If I would’ve known that you were on my horizon, I might not have gotten my vasectomy. I need you to know I’ll go in for an attempted reversal in a heartbeat if you want more kids.” And I know he would. “You said once that if it was with the right person, at the right time in your life, you might want more kids, and I want you to have that opportunity.”

“No, babe. I’m very happy with our little family. The second Harper called me ‘mommy’ my heart was full to the brim. Our family is already complete, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I promise from the depths of my soul.

The tour of the cabin has been an emotional rollercoaster, and I know exactly what we need to reset.

“We can just get lots of practice making them instead.”

Heat flares in his eyes on cue. Greyson makes quick work of my belt and jeans, and I lift myself off the counter so he can slip off my panties with my jeans, taking my socks and boots as he goes. His hands burrow under my sweatshirt, and I’m greeted with a deep groan.