Page 101 of Love Off-Limits
That was definitely a future I could get behind.
EPILOGUE
Olivia
My phone buzzed with a call, and I pulled it out of my back pocket. Tyler’s name flashed across my screen. “Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey,” Tyler said. “I’m home. Where are you?”
“Really? Already?”
“Yeah. We finished shooting a day early. Are you okay? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m at the barn. Bluebell just had her babies.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. How many?”
“Just two this time. Want to come up?”
“I’ll be right there.”
I dropped my phone into the straw beside me and scratched Bluebell’s ears. “You did good, Mama.”
“Tyler’s home?” Mom asked from the other side of the birthing stall. She was using an old towel to scrub down the babies, still wobbly on their newborn legs. Bluebell had done a good job getting them mostly clean, but even in July, the nighttime chill in the barn was just cool enough that the kids needed to be fully dry.
“Yeah. He’s been in New York.”
“I don’t know how you handle it when he’s gone.”
I shrugged. “It’s not that bad. He’s home a lot more than he’s not. And he’s doing what he loves.” Plus, I was doing what I loved. Honestly, if I thought too hard about it, I’d probably pinch myself to see if I was dreaming for how perfect it all seemed.
We’d gotten married six months after Tyler had moved back to Silver Creek. It was fast, by the world’s standards, but when you know, you know. And I think I knew with Tyler on that first night. Even if it took me a while to admit it.
We’d bought a house a mile down the road with a big yard and a sugar maple in the backyard that already had a swing affixed to the lowest branch. We had a great view of the mountains, an office big enough for both of us to work—I’d discovered just how much I could do for the farm working in my office at home—and two extra bedrooms for guests. Or babies, when the need arose. Sooner than later, if seven tests (yes, seven.. . it wasn’t intentional, so I needed convincing) and my early morning nausea were any indication.
The restaurant expansion on the catering kitchen was nearly complete, and the Ethans had done an excellent job launching a marketing campaign that had magazines all over the Southeast anticipating the grand opening of the hot new chef Lennox Hawthorne’s very own family-run, farm-to-table restaurant.
If all happened according to plan, the restaurant would open around the same time I’d find out if we were having a boy or a girl.
Tyler slipped into the stall, his movements slow so as not to spook the goats. Bluebell bleated a hello.
I looked up and smiled. “Hello, husband.”
He settled next to me and leaned in for a kiss. “Hello, wife.” He looked at Bluebell. “She did good, huh?”
“She did great,” Mom answered. “Two healthy little boys. This one has eaten already, so I think he’s ready for some snuggling while his brother finishes up.”
She scooped up the goat that stood, knees wobbling, next to Bluebell and settled it in Tyler’s lap.
“Ohhh, this never gets old,” Tyler said quietly.
“It sure doesn’t.” Mom looked at me. “Livie, I’m exhausted. Kelly will be here within the hour; do you mind staying until she gets in? I think they’d be all right if we left them. Bluebell seems to have taken to them just fine, but I’d rather someone be here for at least a couple more hours.”
“We’ll stay. Don’t worry about it.”
She smiled, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Goodnight, y’all. Tyler, I’m glad you’re home safe.”
“Thanks, Mom. Me too.”
