Page 15 of Merry Ever After

It’s a baby sling. A king-size one that will fit me.

Unexpected heat presses in behind my eyes, fast and furious, my heart beating loudly in my ears. It’s the most incredible gift she could have given me, because it’s a symbol of her trust. Trust I’m sure wasn’t easy to give.

Unable to speak, I put on the sling and go around to the baby seat and unstrap Sonny, then tuck him carefully into the swatch of material, until I’m satisfied that he’s nestled safely against my chest. When I finally feel like I’m not going to be swept off in a tide of emotion, I kiss my woman while her son squirms between us. If I have my way, it’ll be the first of ten million kisses. More.

“You’re both welcome here as often as you want, Evie,” I say against her mouth, voice gruff, my heart telling me not to hold back even after all the self-doubt I’ve been living with for a week. “You’re welcome forever, if you want it.”

She searches my eyes. “Foreversounded less and less scary every day I spent away from you.”

A knot ties itself tight in my throat. “You let me know when it’s no longer scary at all, Evie Crowe.”

“I will, Luke Ward.”

We hold hands on our way into the house. I’m pretty sure I don’t let go for hours.

Epilogue

Evie

Seven years later

My husband and son are silhouettes in the golden sunset, their voices carrying through the late-afternoon haze to reach me on the porch. Luke is explaining the stages of harvest to Sonny, his hand resting on the top of his head, Sonny leaned against Luke’s hip, wearing an identical hat. The sight of them together always makes me wish I was a painter so I could capture their bond on a canvas, but today it’s enough to know I sewed the clothes they’re wearing by hand.

Using my big toe, I gently rock the porch swing, my fingers sifting through the hair of my daughter, who dozes with her head in my lap. June will start prekindergarten soon, and I’m going to miss her running barefoot around the farm all day, but I’m also ready to devote more time to the shop. Five years ago, Luke purchased the thrift shop as a wedding gift for me, and now, more than half the clothes we offer are my upcycled designs. Soon, the whole store will be original pieces with my name stitched on the inner collar. And with the addition of my new online presence, I’m hoping to create even more demand.

Not unlike most days, I marvel over how a decision centered around an ant statue has led me here. To this beloved time and place, this ... man. My man.

As though I’ve called to him out loud, Luke glances back at me over his shoulder. The sun prevents me from seeing his eyes, but I know they soften. I know they brim with love, seeing me here with our daughter’s head in my lap. I know everything about Luke and he knows everything about me. We’re lovers, partners, and best friends.

Forever.

Funny how quickly that word became a comfort once I let myself trust again.

That trust was not misplaced,hums my heart as Luke guides Sonny back toward the house, patting him on the shoulder and encouraging him to run ahead, no doubt to wash up for the Christmas Eve dinner I’ve got roasting in the oven. Sensing the return of her beloved big brother, June reanimates with a yawn and ambles off into the house after her sibling, leaving me to greet my husband alone.

I rise from the swing and cross the porch to the top of the steps, leaning a hip against the banister. Luke, covered in dust and sweat and clothes made by my own two hands, stops at the bottom of the stairs and slowly removes his hat, letting it drop to his outer thigh. And he drinks me in like he does at the end of every day, his gaze carrying slowly up the length of my legs, hips, stomach, and breasts, his Adam’s apple paused in motion.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” he says, sounding a touch raspy. “That a new design you’re wearing?”

“It is.” I turn in a circle, pretending not to hear the appreciative noise he makes while looking at my butt in the tight denim skirt. “Do you like it?”

“How long until dinner?” he asks in lieu of answering.

My pulse starts to pick up. “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

Luke takes all four stairs in two strides and yanks open the front door of the house. “Sonny, keep an eye on your sister for twenty minutes and there’ll be an extra present for you under the tree come tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Dad.”

Now my hand is enclosed in Luke’s, and I’m jogging to keep up with him on our way across the sunbaked paddock to the barn. My eyes are still a smidge damp from hearing Sonny refer to Luke asDad, even though that’s what he’s called him since he learned to speak. It’s not something I’ll ever take for granted, though. Not for a single moment.

As soon as we reach our secret spot, Luke drops his hat and backs me into the shadows behind the final horse stall, pressing his thick body against mine, his calloused fingers already snagging the hem of my skirt, wrenching it up to my hips, his mouth crashing down on mine. Those hardworking hands grip the cheeks of my backside and treat them roughly, kneading and slapping as the kiss grows more frantic.

“You don’t know what it does to me,” he pants while I unfasten his jeans, groaning and wincing as I lower the zipper, “seeing you there waiting for me, all lit up by the sun. The only Christmas present I need. This year or any other year.” He shakes his head. “What gives you the right to be so beautiful, Evie Ward?”

Head tilted back, looking him in the eye, I whisper, “Happiness. You.”

He pauses ever so briefly in the act of shoving down my panties. “If I’ve made you half as happy as you’ve made me, I consider that a life well spent.”

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