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Epilogue
Alyssa
We’d lived in my dream home for seven years, but I was still awestruck at times that the place was actually ours. As I pulled into the driveway after making a quick run to the grocery store, I had one of those moments. The hour away had been exactly what I’d needed. Although, I’d had to talk Garrison into me being the one to go because I was desperate for a tiny bit of “me time” after we’d hosted ten six-year-old little girls all day yesterday for CeCe’s birthday party.
My lips stretched into a big grin as I murmured, “Home sweet home.”
My shopping list hadn’t been long, but I was still surprised that Garrison didn’t meet me in the garage to bring the bags inside the house. Normally, he’d smack my butt for daring to carry the bags myself. A sensual shiver raced down my spine at the possibility that I’d earn myself a punishment for not leaving the stuff in the car. Hopefully, the kids would go down early tonight, and I could get a little detention time.
I put the groceries away, and then I went in search of my husband and children. I didn’t have to go far. After we had the twins, we’d turned one of the extra bedrooms into a playroom for the kids. As I walked down the hallway, I heard the low murmur of voices drifting out from there. Curious about what they were doing, I tiptoed closer and pressed against the wall near the doorway.
“Do you want more tea, Daddy?” CeCe asked.
“I’d love some, pumpkin,” he quickly agreed.
Not wanting them to know I was eavesdropping yet, I held back a sniffle. Hearing Garrison use the same nickname for our little girl who my dad had for me always made me emotional. Seeing what a great dad he was to CeCe had finally been enough to make my dad fully accept Garrison into the family. He’d even gotten the boys 3-wheel toddler motorcycles for their second birthday.
“There you go, Daddy. How about you, Gavin?”
“Sure,” our oldest boy—by a whopping fifteen minutes—answered.
“I want some, too!” Jensen cried.
We’d named the boys after our fathers, which had definitely earned Garrison some extra brownie points from my dad.
“Oh, no,” CeCe cried dramatically. “We’re out of tea. Sorry, Jensen. There isn’t enough for you to have more.”
“Aw, man,” Jensen complained.
Taking that as my cue to make my presence known, I lifted my hand in the air as though I was carrying an imaginary teapot and walked into the room. CeCe was standing next to our youngest son, who was seated at the small round table along with his twin and dad. Garrison barely fit in his chair, and his knees were almost all the way to his chest. But that wasn’t what made me giggle. The tiara perched on top of his head did that, along with the two stuffed animals who flanked him on either side.
CeCe was obsessed with teddy bears—the bigger, the better. A light brown one was seated to Garrison’s left, and a bright pink one was to his right. They had tiaras on their heads, too. So did our sons. And none of them looked the least bit embarrassed for me to find them this way. Our daughter had them all wrapped around her little finger, and they’d do just about anything she asked. It was so darn adorable.
Forcing my lips into a pout, I said, “You guys started the tea party without me? I guess I’ll just go and drink this whole pot by myself.”
CeCe raced over to me, shoving the empty toy teapot into my other hand before taking the pretend one from me. “More tea! Yay! You’re the best, Mommy!”
Jensen flashed me a big grin. “Thanks. I was thirsty.”
CeCe poured some more pretend tea into his pink plastic cup. “Tada!”
He lifted the cup to his lips and made a slurping sound. “Mmm, good.”
“How about you pour your mom some too, pumpkin?” Garrison suggested.
“Good idea!” CeCe raced over to the kitchen set and grabbed another cup and saucer for me. Then she realized all the chairs were taken, and her smile fell. “Oh, no. There’s nowhere for you to sit.”
“Sure there is.” Garrison scooted his chair away from the table and stretched his long legs out. Then he patted his lap and flashed me a sexy smirk. “Best seat in the house.”
