Page 62 of Make Me Yours
I looked up. “That soon?”
He nodded. “Roof’s sealed, beams are done, and they’re re-staining the front doors. He said it’ll be ready before spring weddings start.”
A small thrill ran through me. The old cabin—my cabin—was becoming something entirely new. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“You will,” he said, crouching to toss another log into the flames. “That place deserves a new chapter.”
I watched him straighten, his profile caught in the firelight—strong, a little worn, but peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen before. Hope whimpered, and he turned instantly, instinctively.
“Actually,” I said slowly, “I’ve been thinking about something.”
He turned, one eyebrow raised. “That tone always means I’m about to get volunteered for something.”
“Not exactly.” I hesitated, suddenly shy. “But… once the remodel’s done, what if we renewed our vows there? AtBloom & Vine.”
He blinked. “Renewed?”
“Think about it,” I said, warming to the idea. “It’s the first place that ever felt like home to me. And now it’s where couples can start their lives together. We could dress up again, maybe hire a photographer—make it beautiful. Use it to help launch the venue, show couples what their day could look like.”
He leaned a shoulder against the mantel, watching me. “So you want to get remarried for marketing purposes?”
I gave him a look. “For love and marketing. Equal parts.”
That grin—the one that always started small and spread until it softened his whole face—appeared. “You just want another excuse to see me in a suit.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “You clean up nice, Sawyer.”
He crossed the room and sat back down beside me. Hope yawned, a perfect little O of a mouth, and he traced a finger over her cheek. “If that’s what you want, I’m in. I’d marry you a hundred times if it meant always ending up right here.”
My throat tightened. “Careful. I might hold you to that.”
“Good.” He kissed me softly, a slow, unhurried kiss that tasted like coffee and forever.
Later that afternoon, after Hope’s feeding and Sawyer’s well-earned nap, I slipped on my jeans and boots and stepped onto the porch. The cold hit instantly, crisp and clean. The sky hung low and silver, clouds stretched like wool over the hills.
Sunny followed me out, tail wagging, and leaped onto the swing, curling into a golden ball. The old chains squeaked as she shifted. I reached down to scratch behind her ear. “Lazy girl,” I murmured. She thumped her tail once in reply.
From where I stood, I could see the paddock beyond the barn. Grace stood near the fence, her breath puffing white in the cold air as our new ranch hand, Tyler, pitched hay from a wheelbarrow, whistling low. Her coat gleamed in the thin winter sunlight, brushed to a soft, pale shine. She was Sawyer’s mare—his first love, long before me—and I could see why. The way she lifted her head when he called, the quiet strength in her stance… she carried a piece of him in her.
I smiled, thinking how funny life was. Grace might’ve been his first love, but I was certain Hope and I were his last—and his greatest.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, thumb hovering over the screen. There was one person who’d love this idea as much as I did.
Emma answered on the second ring. “Well, look who’s alive. How’s new-mom life treating you?”
“Messy and perfect,” I said, grinning. “And before you ask, yes, I’ve showered today.”
“Gold star for you.”
“I actually called because I need your help.”
Her tone lifted instantly. “My favorite words. What’s up?”
“So… Sawyer and I were talking. We want to renew our vows there once the remodel’s finished at theBloom & Vine Wedding Venue. Kind of a soft re-opening event. We’ll get dressed up, hire a photographer—turn it into a little marketing piece for the venue.”
“Oh, I love that,” she said, voice bright. “A Bloom & Vine wedding reborn. It’s poetic.”
“I knew you’d get it.”
