Page 150 of Run to Me

Seated next to me in a lawn chair, his adoring gaze stays on his wife and son as they make the rounds, saying goodbye. “Your turn,” he says, referring to marriage and kids.

I stare at Maisy through the hazy flames rising from the pit. She and Lucy laugh at something Tatum says. Every day, Maisy laughs a little louder and a lot more.

“Not yet. Maybe one day.”

Jake bumps my knee with his. “Y’all have time. Just enjoy each other.”

“Says the man who got Tatum pregnant within weeks of getting back together.”

He chuckles and rubs his belly. “This is our round two. We moved fast. You and Maisy are still on round one.”

“It’s a forever round. Infinite.”

Nodding, he says, “I see that now. Don’t know how I never noticed it when we were kids.”

I sink further into my chair and spread my legs wide, enjoying my view. “What Maisy and I have belongs to us. It’s not meant for other people to notice, and we like it that way.”

When Jake stands, I bump his fist without looking at him. We usually hug when we part ways, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off Maisy. She’s in leggings and an oversized sweater that slipped off one shoulder. With the front of her hair pulled back, her beautiful smile and sparkling eyes shine in the firelight. She’s stunning. And she’s mine.

“Damn. You’ve got it bad, man,” Jake says, clapping me on the shoulder. Chuckling, he tosses a wave to the group as he leaves with his family.

Our other friends follow suit, saying their goodbyes with sleeping children in their arms. Soon I’m left alone by the fire pit, gazing at the dying flames. I’m amazed at the wealth I’ve accumulated in life. Friends, family, a thriving business. But my most valuable and prized possession is my relationship with Maisy. It’s priceless, and I’m a lucky man to be trusted with the heart of such a strong, independent woman. She doesn’t need me, which makes her wanting me that much sweeter.

The patio door closes, and she climbs into my lap with a blanket wrapped around her. Resting her head on my shoulder, she says, “You’re deep in thought. What’s on your mind?”

I rub a hand along her thigh. “You.” Always you.

“Oh yeah? Are you having dirty thoughts or sweet ones?”

“Neither. I just realized I forgot to tell you something important.”

Brows creased with concern, she adjusts her position and straddles me, searching my face for answers. “What is it?”

I cradle her head in my hands and press my lips to hers, lingering as I breathe in her presence, her realness, her love. Pulling away to gaze into her pretty eyes, I say, “Welcome home, my beautiful birdie. I’m glad you finally found your way.”

Her breath hitches before she throws her arms around my neck. Squeezing me tight, her tears wet my cheek, and she whispers, “Me too, J. Me too.”

EPILOGUE

THREE YEARS LATER

JENSEN

Cheeks flushed and eyes burning with angry fire, Maisy growls at me. “I hate you so much right now.”

“I know. Hate me all you want. I can take it.” I brush the mess of curls off her damp forehead while she crushes my other hand in a death grip, her nails cutting into my skin. “You’re so beautiful right now,” I whisper.

She drops her head on the pillow and whines, “Why did you do this to me? You’re such an asshole.”

The nurses assisting in the delivery room can’t contain their amusement, biting back laughter and ducking their heads to hide their smiles. Maisy has been entertaining them with her rapid mood changes for the past hour.

She woke me in the middle of the night, hitting me in the face with a pillow, and demanded I drive her to the hospital. By the time we arrived and got her checked in, she was about ready to deliver, and the medical staff sprang into action.

“Everything will work out. I promise,” I assure her, something I’ve been doing for the past few months.

After a slow start, her career got back on track, and she’s making a name for herself in editorial makeup. She travels to photo shoots all over the world, but she took a break at the end of her second trimester. With her job, she’s often in high-stress environments and spends long hours on her feet. She’s been worried about how an extended maternity leave might affect her career, but we agreed her and the baby’s health are more important than work.

A keening sound escapes her when she curls forward with a strong contraction. Once the pain subsides, she slumps back in defeat and cries, “I’m having a giant!”