Page 117 of That: Taylor & Brooks

Brooks nodded, pressing a kiss on Denver’s head as her little eyes already began to droop. “I’ll put her down.”

As Brooks headed toward the house with their drowsy daughter, Taylor turned back to the party, catching sight of Paige sitting slightly apart from theothers, typing furiously on her phone. The smile on her friend’s face was impossible to miss, secretive, excited, completely absorbed.

Taylor approached quietly, sliding into the chair beside her. “So,” she said casually, “are you going to tell me who’s got you smiling like that, or do I have to steal your phone to find out?”

Paige jumped, nearly dropping her phone as she locked the screen. “Jesus, Taylor! Sneaking up on me like a damn church mouse.”

“We said no more secrets. And your clearly hiding something.” Taylor nudged her playfully. “Come on. Spill.”

Paige hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one was within earshot. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“Mmhmm.” Taylor’s expression made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “That’s why you’re blushing.”

Taylor studied her friend’s face, recognizing the combination of excitement and uncertainty there, the same cocktail of emotions she’d felt when Brooks had first entered her life. “Be careful,” she said automatically, then laughed at herself. “God, I sound like such a mom.”

“You are a mom,” Paige pointed out with a grin. “A great one. But don’t worry about me. I’m just having fun.”

“Uh-huh.” Taylor wasn’t convinced. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“When it gets serious, and it will, I get to meet him properly.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. “If it gets to that point, you’ll be the first to know. Afterme, of course. You know I don’t love these hoes.”

Before they could continue the conversation, Brooks reappeared, minus Denver but plus a bottle of cognac and a stack of glasses.

“She’s out cold,” he announced, setting the items on the table. “Time for the adults to celebrate properly.”

As he began pouring, the remaining guests gathered around. Brooks raised his glass, his eyes finding Taylor’s across the circle.

“To Denver,” he said simply. One thing about it, he was going to make his daughter the focal point of everything he did. “For changing our lives in the best possible way.”

“To Denver,” the group echoed, glasses clinking.

Taylor moved to Brooks’ side, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. In the corner of the yard, she could see Jacques with his arms around his younger sisters, all of them laughing at something Emon had said. The sight warmed her heart, this extended family they’d built, not just through blood but through choice and circumstance.

“And to us,” she murmured to Brooks, just for him to hear. “For finding our way to each other.”

Brooks’ lips brushed her temple, his voice low in her ear. “Best call I ever answered.”

As the sun dipped low over Coupeville, casting a golden wash across the yard, Taylor watched the last of the balloons tug lazily in the breeze. Laughter echoed behind her—family, friends, the people they’d held close through every storm now gathered to celebrate their daughter’s first year of life.

It still caught her off guard sometimes—how far they’d come in so little time.

In just one year, they had rebuilt. On their terms. In their time.

She’d left the hospital behind and launched Taylor’s Way Consulting, a business built on helping other women breathe easier, delegate smarter, and lead without burning out. She no longer worked behind someone else's desk. She was building her own table now.

Bishop Towing had grown beyond Coupeville, now servicing Millbrook, Ashton Grove, and making his presence known city by city. Brooks was taking over and expanding creating opportunities for community.

Their daughter’s laughter lived in the walls. The driveway held cars she chose, a few he’d insisted she had. The kitchen had already been graced with dance parties and disagreements and second chances over coffee.

It wasn’t the life she planned.

It was better. Rooted. Built on truth and real love—not the kind that saves you, but the kind that stands beside you while you save yourself. It was soft, easy, luxurious without forgetting how to be humble and grateful for the seasons of plenty and for the seasons of lack.

And it all started with one late-night call—to the man who never needed convincing to show up.

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