I shrug. “I think I like it.”
“Then Leo it is.”
I thought we were headed back to the apartments, but instead we drive out a bit further until we pull into the Marnock Hotel. He reserved Room 206, the same room from the night of the wedding. Jordan walks me to the door. He steps forward and puts his hands on my hips, gently tugging me toward him until our bodies touch. I’m still holding my alligator.
“I’ll snuggle with him every night we’re apart,” I promise.
Jordan’s smile comes back out to play. “This guy and Mr. Fluffers both get to share your bed while I’m not there? Are you trying to make me jealous?” His thumb hooks into my belt loop.
“Maybe a little.”
One of his hands moves up to cup the back of my head while the other wraps around to the small of my back. I tilt mychin up to look into his eyes again, and his face hovers just above mine. “I know being apart will be hard when you go back to school. I’m not going to pretend it won’t. But I believe in us. It will go so fast. You’ll be busy while I finish out the season. Then we’ll figure out what comes next. People have done much harder things than love someone who lived a few hours away. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Shelley. Tell me you feel this, too.”
One tear trickles down my cheek as I stare up at him. How did I get this lucky?
“Yes,” I whisper. “Of course I feel it. I love you, too.”
He brings his lips to mine, and I run my fingers through his hair while I pour everything I thought I would never be able to say to him into this kiss.
“Jordan?”
He hums a questioning noise into my mouth. I’ve never been more confident in anything than I am when I tell him exactly what I want.
“I think it’s time for me to cash in that raincheck. Will you take me to bed?”
And he does. But not before I ask if he remembered to pack his jersey. There’s still one more dream we can make come true.
Epilogue
Eight Years Later
Shelley
"Daddy, can you fix my braids?” Janie runs into the living room with a crocheted bunny rabbit in one hand and a coloring book in the other. Jordan picks her up and spins her around, blowing raspberries into our four-year-old’s belly until she dissolves into a fit of giggles. Then he takes a seat on the couch and sets her on his lap, expertly redoing the pigtails that have come undone from her roughhousing.
As he secures the second elastic, my husband kisses the top of our daughter’s head and says, “Should we stick some waffles in the toaster for breakfast?”
“Can we put sprinkles and whipped cream on them?” Janie’s eyes widen in delight.
Jordan smiles and nods. “And we’ll fill all the squares with blueberries.”
“Chocolate chips,” Janie counters. She’s a tough negotiator, like her mom.
As she scrambles off his lap, Jordan stands and I make my way over to wrap my arms around him. “I hate to say I told you so, but do you think after all these years you can finally admit toasters are a must-have?”
He looks down at me through his glasses as his arms circle my waist. “Oh, I think you love telling me that. But Iconcede. This time you were right, Counselor. How do you feel about the brief?”
I was up late last night working on a new case, and I need to head out soon if I’m going to beat the traffic on the way to the courthouse. It’s a long commute from North Bay into Fredericksburg, but totally worth such a small sacrifice for our children to grow up surrounded by family.
Sighing, I shrug. “It’s as good as it’s going to get. I really do need to get moving. Have a great day with Janie.”
“Always do.” He smiles. “Will we see you for dinner?”
“I hope so, but it might be a late one for me. Don’t wait if she’s hungry.”
He smirks and kisses my neck, his beard tickling my skin. “I’ll feed her, but I don’t mind waiting formydinner.” The mischievous tone in his voice hints that he’s not talking about food at all.
I swat him away, playfully. “Maybe. We’ll see how I’m feeling.”
