Page 61 of Make Me Yours
And for the first time in my life, I didn’t need to know what came next.
Because right here, I had everything I had ever dreamed of in this room.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Full Circle
Lilly
Hope’s cry cut through the quiet like the soft squeal of a violin string—sharp, sudden, but somehow still sweet. She was only five days old, but already her tiny lungs ruled the house. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my robe. A blue-gray winter morning had settled over Lucky Ranch, the kind that made coffee and quilts feel like necessities, not luxuries.
From down the hall came Sawyer’s voice, low and steady, followed by a muttered curse. I smiled to myself—diaper duty.
By the time I padded barefoot to the nursery, the scene that greeted me was both hilarious and heart-melting. Sawyer stood at the changing table like a man facing a live grenade, sleeves rolled up, jaw set in determination. Hope kicked gleefully, flailing her tiny fists as if she found his panic entertaining.
“Need a hand, Daddy of the Year?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
He shot me a look over his shoulder—one of those half-serious, half-pleading glares. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
I bit back a grin. “You’ve stared down worse.”
“Yeah, but none of ’em came equipped with bodily functions like this.” He dodged just in time as Hope let out a perfectly timed squirm. “Man down,” he muttered, reaching for the wipes.
I laughed outright then, and the sound seemed to ease him. He glanced at me, shaking his head. “Don’t say it.”
“Say what?” I teased. “That you were built for battle, not diapers?”
He fastened the clean diaper with surgical precision, as if disarming explosives. “SEAL training didn’t prepare me for this. Next time, I’m calling in backup.”
“You’re looking at your backup,” I said, stepping closer. Hope’s legs kicked against his forearm, her little face scrunching as if she knew she’d won. “Nice work, soldier.”
He let out a breath and smiled—one of those slow, tired, heart-stopping smiles that still did funny things to my chest. “She’s got your attitude.”
“And your stubborn streak,” I replied softly.
He bent to kiss Hope’s forehead. “Guess we’re even, then.”
He lingered there a moment, cheek brushing her soft hair, his big hands surprisingly gentle as they adjusted the blanket around her. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at her, like every breath she took reset his entire world. Watching him like that—this man who once lived by precision and control—melt into quiet awe over a seven-pound miracle did something to me.
I’d fallen for Sawyer in a hundred different ways before, but this was new. Seeing him like this, stripped down to nothing but love and wonder, undid me completely.
Afterward, he carried Hope to the living room where the fire crackled in the stone hearth. The smell of pine logs and baby powder mingled with coffee from the kitchen. I sank into thecouch beside him, pulling my robe tightly around my shoulders while he cradled Hope against his chest.
Outside the windows, the pasture was white with frost. A few stubborn cardinals hopped along the fence line, their feathers bright against the frosty grass. Lucky Ranch was quiet this time of year—wedding season had slowed after the holidays, and the remodel at the Bloom & Vine Wedding Venue was still in progress. For once, there was time to breathe.
Sawyer tilted his head back against the couch. “Can you believe it’s only been a few days since we brought her home?”
I nodded. “And she already runs the place.”
He chuckled. “She runs me, that’s for sure.” His hand brushed lightly over her back. “Never thought I’d get addicted to watching someone sleep.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “You’re a natural.”
“Natural disaster, maybe.”
I smiled into his shirt, letting the warmth of the fire seep into my bones. I watched them for a long time—Sawyer, broad and steady, holding our daughter like she was the most fragile treasure on earth. It struck me that this, right here, was everything I’d ever wanted but had been too scared to imagine.
After a while, Hope stirred, stretching her arms like a tiny ballerina. Sawyer passed her to me and rose to poke at the fire. Sparks flew up the chimney. “Matthew called this morning,” he said. “Said the painters should finish the cabin by the end of the month.”
