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We both glance at the doorway. Holden sets down Joey, who heads toward the couch. His favorite toy—a stuffed giraffe—is sitting on the nearest cushion.
“Hey,” Sydney says, smiling.
Holden approaches the island, leaning a hip against the edge and snagging a strawberry from the bowl. “Should I head back upstairs so you two can gossip about guys some more?”
Sydney scoffs. “We’re done.”
“No, we’re not. Go back upstairs, please.” I flutter my eyelashes to make it extra convincing.
Holden smirks before rounding the edge of the island and coming up behind me. “Nah, nevermind. I want to hear the gossip. Go ahead, Syd.”
“I haven’t even gone out with him,” she says. “It’ll probably go nowhere.”
“You never know,” I tell her.
“That’s true. When we first moved in across the street, I never thought you would end up with Holden. And look at you guys now.”
I glance at Holden. He smirks.
Lana bangs on the glass door with one of the sandbox toys, so Sydney goes over to open the door.
Holden’s hand wraps around my waist. I lean back against him, keeping an eye on the bacon to make sure it doesn’t burn.
“I haven’t yawned once since I woke up,” I tell him. “I forgot what that was like.”
His chest rumbles against my back. “It wasn’t completely selfless,” he tells me. “I wanted you well-rested for tonight.”
I hum as his lips brush my temple, fully on board with that idea.
“Dada!” Joey calls.
Holden sighs, then drops his hand and steps away.
I turn before he can move too far away. “I love you.”
Those three words are ones I make a point to tell him every day. Because life is short and because I know I’m the only one who does.
His expression softens into my favorite smile. “I love you, flower.”
Truth resonates in every syllable.
Then he goes to take care of our son.
THE END
