Page 110 of Found in Wild Sage

Evie stirs and her eyes blink open. The moment she focuses on me, her lips spread into a smile. I wonder if I’ll ever get to a point where having that look directed at me doesn’t send a shudder of gratitude and bliss through me.

“Good rest?” We have admittedly been insanely busy with the opening of the Juniper View Community. Yes, I named it, and yes, I know it’s not particularly sexy. It’s no Silverton Springs, that’s for sure. But it’s not supposed to be flashy. The very point of it is that it’s not a nursing home or a facility. It’s meant to feel like a place to call home.

That Evie has helped me feel at home in my own life has been the greatest gift I’ve ever received—with the possible exception of getting to be Charlie’s dad.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as rested as I do right now.” Her cheeks pinken. “Satisfied and rested.”

I am not ashamed to admit this sentiment fills me with no small amount of pride. What is better than knowing I satisfy this amazing, strong, wonderful woman?

I can attest that few things are better.

Drawing her in for a kiss is a mistake, but it’s one I’m happy to make. We have reservations for dinner in an hour or so, but it doesn't mean we can’t linger here a while longer. And, in fact, we do. I tug at the sheet wrapped around her and soon enough, we’re celebrating this trip all over again.

Her hand grazes over the scar on my back where they operated on my kidney, and I freeze for a beat. Her brows furrow in concern.

“Did I hurt you? Is anything hurting?” She shifts, pulls away, and eyes my abdomen where the other scar slashes across my belly in a jagged arc.

“No, no.” I huff. “I had one of those silly moments of self-consciousness.” My cheeks heat, and I try to shake it off.

She smiles and holds my face, presses a kiss to my lips. “My love, I will never look at those scars and think of anything other than how heroic you were that day. I hate that you have them, but they’re part of you and I love you. So much.”

I nod. “Thank you. I know. It’s silly. I’m not particularly vain, or⁠—”

“It doesn’t make you vain to care. Your body has changed in ways you didn’t get to choose. It’s okay to have mixed feelings about it. But please never doubt they don’t impact my attraction to or love for you, okay?”

If I didn’t believe her words, and I do, every bit of her expression says the same. Her blue eyes, that small smile, the notch at her brow.

“Thank you. And I’ll say the same for you.” I trace the soft line along her bare hip. “I think I’ve made that quite clear.”

Her lashes flutter and she grins. “Yes. I will never doubt how you feel about my stretch marks.” But her face falls, sobers completely.

She takes my hand and slides it across her skin to settle over her belly. “I should probably mention, then, that I’ll likely be getting a few more.”

I blink. “More… Stretchmarks?”

“Yes. And I’ll gain a fair amount of weight. My boobs are going to be huge, and I’ll⁠—”

“Evie, what are you saying?” I’m shaking my head, sitting up, hand still pressed to the gentle curve of her belly.

She bites her lips, then beams. “I’m pregnant.”

I laugh, because it’s too good. “You’re pregnant?”

She nods, and I haul her into my arms. Then cup her face. “How long have you known?

“Since about two hours before we left for the airport.” She giggles, beaming. “I wanted to tell you then, but I, I don’t know. We’ve crashed into your life and taken over, and I just thought another baby might be too much. I wanted to give us this time, just us, but…”

“You aren’t too much. This isn’t too much.” I laugh, emotion welling up so quickly. “My God, Evie, I love you so much. I can’t wait to meet this little person, and see Charlie as a big brother.”

By the time we clean up for dinner and she accepts a lei from one of the hosts before we step out into the open-air restaurant lit by tiki torches and starlight, I’m in danger of forgetting what real life is like. This is all such a dream.

But the most amazing part of it is that back home is a dream, too. Charlie is a dream come true, and so is my family. What we’re doing in Juniper View, our little home, the clinic, the Community.

The best part is none of it is a dream, though. It’s this reality we’ve been brave enough to step into. And we’re not wasting it.

“Thanks for making me brave, love.” I hold her hand across the table, the stars glittering above us and the waves crashing on the shore a few hundred yards away.

“Thanks for giving me a home.”