Page 135 of The Only Thing That's Real

Elated, I text her on the spot and ask when she has time to get together. She answers right back and invites Ry and me over for dinner. Her exact words are, “Since the four of us will be raising him together, we might as well discuss it together.” Gus smiles and I may be naïve, but my world feels like it’s falling into place.

I’m happy. Like really, truly happy for the first time in my life. There’s just one more answer I need before all the pieces fall into place. Patience has never been a strength of mine, but for her, I’ll wait.

On the drive to the cabin, she’s quiet. Neither of us drank much, so I know she isn’t drunk, but I give her space. When we get home, she goes straight for the porch swing. There’s something on her mind and I want to see her face when she finally tells me whatever is going through that beautiful head of hers. I wait her out, leaning against the post at the top of the front steps.

“Do you promise not to build a gigantic mansion and for the foreseeable future, the cabin is home?”

God, she’s perfect.

“I do.”

“Do you promise?—”

“I do,” I interrupt her from my spot by the steps. Not daring to move closer or do anything to stop her line of questioning. It doesn’t matter what she asks. I’ll promise her the moon and stars if that’s what she wants.

“And if we can’t have kids?”

“I already got one.”

“You might want more one day.”

“Will I have you?”

“If you want me.”

“Then I won’t change my mind.”

“You might.”

“Ifwechange our minds, we can adopt or decide if a surrogate is the answer. There are always options if it’s something we ever want to explore.”

“Do you promise never to marry me? To be all mine without a ring on your finger?”

“I’m too old and wise to say never. But you can bet your sweet ass I’ll promise not to marry you unless you change your mind. Then I’ll tattoo a damn ring on my finger if that’s what you want.”

She pats the empty space next to her on the swing. “All I want is you.”

Taking my place beside her, I pull her against me, gazing out at the dark lake lit only by the reflection of the moon. “I’m gonna make you so damn happy, Ry.”

“You already do, Knox.”

“Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Epilogue

Knox

“Damn it! Knox. I’m so sorry.” Ryan lowers her headphones so they sit around her neck. “We were so close. Why can’t I get this last bit right?”

“Baby, you are killing it.”

And she is. The woman is fucking phenomenal.

It took nearly two years to get her in the studio, but we’re finally here. Since the first moment I heard Ryan Jameson sing karaoke in a hotel room in Nashville, I’ve dreamed of singing with her. Her smokey voice wrapped around my soul that night and hasn’t let go.

“You have to say that because you love me,” she says, stepping away from her microphone so the producers don’t hear her.

The woman is absolutely clueless about her ability. Shetold me I was crazy for wanting to do this. She said she isn’t a singer and has no business being in this booth with me.

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