We passed a sign for a farmstand. Then another. The kind with hand-painted letters and crooked arrows. I turned off the main road and followed a gravel path that wound through a stretch of open fields. No buildings in sight. Just rows of green, a few scattered trees, and a wide sky.
Liam sat up straighter.
The driveway seemed to go on forever, a ribbon of gravel cutting through a sun-dappled tunnel of trees. Every now and then, abreak in the foliage revealed another cabin tucked deep in the woods, each one far from the next and shielded from view.
At the end of it stood a small guest house, white clapboard, wide porch, herb boxes lining the railings. Beyond it, a barn. A real one. Weathered wood, rusted roof, and a garden that looked like it had been planted with care, not symmetry. And between them, a stone patio held a rustic outdoor kitchen, a sturdy picnic table, and strings of lights looped overhead, just waiting for nightfall.
I parked.
Liam didn’t get out right away. He stared at the barn, then at the rows of vegetables, then back at the house.
“This is it?” he asked.
I nodded. “We’re staying here.”
He opened the door slowly. His feet hit the gravel with a crunch. He walked toward the porch, not saying anything, just looking. At the herb boxes. At the baskets stacked by the door. At the chalkboard sign that read:Pick what you need. Cook what you love.He touched the wood with two fingers and smiled.
I followed him up the steps.
We stepped inside. The kitchen was clearly the heart of the place. A big island dominated the room, with a gas stove and copper pans hanging from hooks above it. A bowl of fresh eggs sat on the counter. The windows looked out over the garden.
Liam didn’t speak. He ran a hand over the edge of the counter, then over the handle of the oven. His fingers lingered there.
“I know cooking is important to you,” I said, leaning against the island. “And we both know fresh ingredients are important to you.” I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips.
A low chuckle escaped him, the memory of our basil argument hanging unspoken in the air between us.
He looked back out the window. The garden was quiet. A few bees hovered near the lavender. The barn door was open just a crack.
“So,” I continued, gesturing toward the window and the garden beyond. “I thought this way, you could go out there. Pick whatever you want. There’s a farmer’s market up the road for anything we can’t find here. You could… I don’t know. Try it on. See what it’s like, living in a place like this. Growing and picking your own stuff.”
Liam finally looked over at me. A thought crystallized in my mind, so clear and certain it stole my breath.
I can’t possibly love this man any more than I do at this moment.
“But I also did this to honor Nora.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch. He just nodded once, giving me the courage to go on. My voice was shaky, but I pushed through.
“Well, really to thank her.” I took a steadying breath.
“I know she lived on a farm,” I said, voice low. “I know that’s where it started for you. She started you on the path to the man you’ve become.” I looked right at him, my vision blurring with tears. “To the man I love.”
I swallowed hard as I wiped the tear from my eye. “I guess I just wanted to let her know that you found someone who loves you so much that she wanted to bring you back to the beginning. To the part of you that she loved first.”
A single tear traced a path down his cheek. Then another.
My 6'3" hot goalie.Thanks Brooke.A beautiful mix of strength and tenderness, and so handsome, it hurt to breathe.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” I whispered.
He didn’t speak. He just pulled me into a crushing hug. I felt his shoulders shake, so I held him tighter, my hand cradling the back of his head.
After a long moment, he pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes red-rimmed but clear. “Okay,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I concede. You win. This is the best birthday trip.”
I laughed, a wet, happy sound against his chest.
He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “I love you, Dr. Claire Bennett.”
