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Harper takes my hand in hers. “I do. You’re in love and you couldn’t suppress it for another minute.”
Digger wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Your heart was in the right place. Your timing was a little off …”
“Better now than tomorrow, though,” I tell him.
“Can we wrap this up?” the pastor asks. “I haven't had supper yet and I’m getting a little hangry.”
“Of course,” Ethan tells him, pulling me to his side.
“Sorry,” I add.
I don’t go back to Harper’s side. Instead, I stand right next to Ethan for the rest of the rehearsal, gripping him like I’m afraid he’s a figment of my imagination and is going to slip away.
And while I’m slightly mortified by my behavior, more than anything, I’m thrilled to have fully opened the door to love. My life is changing in ways that I never saw coming and I can’t wait to see what comes next.
Chapter46
Ethan-One Year Later
One Year Later
“Wyatt, don’t forget your lunch!” I call as he yanks open the front door.
He spins on his heel and tippy toes toward me, his muddy runners leaving tracks on the hardwood.
We both glance at Moira, who is too busy shopping online for pink baby clothes to notice. “I’ll come to you,” I tell him.
Without looking up, she says, “I’m not cleaning that up, mister man. When you get home, you’ve got a job to do.”
“How does she do that?” I whisper to Wyatt, handing him the lunch kit.
“Magic,” he says, before sprinting out the door.
I watch from the front deck as he runs to the end of our driveway, where Ash and Colton are already waiting for the bus. He makes it just in time. I wave to Mrs. Upton, the driver, and she hollers out the open door to me, “How’s Moira feeling?”
“Grouchy!” I call, then say, “Just kidding. She’s wonderful, as always.”
Mrs. Upton laughs until she wheezes, then pulls the door shut and they’re off for the day. I take a moment to enjoy the view of the lake from our new home and revel in my wonderful life.
Moira and I got married exactly one month after Harper and Digger. Once we made up our minds to spend the rest of our lives together, we couldn’t wait. Ours was a tiny civil ceremony at town hall with only our closest friends and family. Moira felt that she already had one big over the top wedding, and what she really wanted was an intimate gathering.
After I moved in (having successfully completed my rental move-out inspection—no sheets were stolen), we decided a fresh start was in order, meaning a move rather than a long, drawn-out renovation.
This place came up on the market the same day we found out we were expecting, and Moira took it as a sign that this was the house for us. I suppose it didn’t hurt that it’s a seven-bedroom walk-out cabin with incredible views, a hot tub, and a huge kitchen.
We kept the house in LA and go back there on school holidays so we can see my parents and do all the fun California stuff. It’s more than enough to satisfy my craving for good sushi, surfing, and sun.
My first book sold, and I’m already hard at work on the second one. I don’t write at the diner anymore. Instead, I’ve turned one of the bedrooms into an office.
Moira hired Abigail to manage the restaurant, and she hired two new servers, so she doesn’t have to work all day every day. She pops in to do the books and check on things, but there’s no pressure anymore.
Inhaling the fresh pine-scented air, I turn and pull the door open and go inside to find my wife. She’s sitting on a chair in the kitchen with her feet propped up on another one. “Forty dollars for a onesie? I don’t think so,” she mumbles at the computer.
I walk over and drop a kiss on her forehead, then place my hand on her growing belly. “You know we can afford clothes, right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to open my wallet and let someone rob us blind,” she answers, placing her hand on mine.
“You happy?” I ask her.
