And I don’t pull away.
We just lie there, wrapped in heat and calm and something we haven’t quite named yet but feels like more than want.
It feels like something that might last.
20
The early morning air is crisp, sunlight just pouring gold across the snow-dappled fields as I follow Sam across the yard. I’m wearing my new jeans and shirt, but the way he glances back at me like he’s proud I’m wearing them makes me stand taller.
“One of the mares had her foal last night,” he says, voice low and warm. “Figured you’d want to meet the little one.”
“I do,” I say instantly, my heart already fluttering with anticipation.
The barn is quiet, full of soft snorts and rustling straw. The scent of hay and cedar and horse fills the air, comforting in a way that surprises me. Sam leads me to a stall near the end, where the light slants through a top window like something out of a painting.
Inside, a mare stands tall and proud, her body curved protectively around a tiny foal—legs long and wobbly, ears twitching, dark lashes blinking slowly as it adjusts to the world.
I gasp, hand covering my mouth. “Oh my god…”
The foal is perfect. All spindly limbs and soft fur, impossibly delicate and yet already so real. So here.
Sam leans on the stall door beside me, voice soft. “Filly. Born just after midnight. Healthy as can be.”
“She’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“So are you,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I glance at him, and he’s not even looking at me. He’s watching the foal, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes full of something warm and still.
And somehow that makes it even more real.
We stand there in silence, just watching as the foal nuzzles into her mother’s side, finding her balance one shaky step at a time.
“She doesn’t have a name yet,” he says.
I smile softly. “Think she’s waiting for the right one.”
His gaze flicks to mine. “Maybe you’ll find it.”
“Do you want kids?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can second-guess it.
Sam doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah. You?”
I nod, slower. “Yeah.”
He turns to face me fully, the sun catching the lighter strands in his hair, his eyes unreadable but certain. “Want to make one together?”
I blink, my heart catching in my throat. “Are you asking me to have your baby, Sam Stone?”
His voice is quiet. Steady. “Baby. Life. All of it.”
There was a time I would’ve thrown up walls so fast he wouldn’t have seen it coming. I would’ve run before I even let myself feel what I’m feeling right now. But I don’t want to run. I want this. With him.
“Yes, to all of it.”
He doesn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, his mouthcrashes into mine. His hands find my waist, pulling me in until we’re chest to chest, heart to heart, like saying yes unlocked something neither of us can hold back anymore.
He walks me backward with slow, purposeful steps, lips never leaving mine. My back hits the cool wood of the stall wall, and I gasp but not from surprise.
