We both laughed, and Kick ended the call, saying he had to tell Alex before she heard it from someone else.
His sister squealed so loud that he held the phone away from his ear. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew you two were perfect for each other. I called it years ago.”
“You did not,” Kick said.
“I absolutely did. Ask anyone.”
By the time we’d made it through the family, my face hurt from smiling. We collapsed onto the sofa, tangled together, the fire burning low in the grate.
“That was a lot,” I said.
“Welcome to the Avilas.” Kick pressed a kiss to my temple. “It only gets bigger and louder from here.”
I smiled and nestled closer. His hand found my belly, resting there the way it always did now, as if he couldn’t stop reaching for our daughter.
“Have you thought of any names?” he asked.
“I have.” I hesitated. “But I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“It?” He tilted his head to look at me. “Just one?”
“Just one.”
“Tell me.”
“Anaïs.”
He closed his eyes, and a smile spread across his face, slow and certain, like sunrise breaking over the vineyard hills.
“I thought of one too. Just one,” he said. When he opened his eyes, they were bright with emotion.“Anaïs.”
My breath caught. “You?—”
“The moment I saw her face. Your grandmother’s face. Your face.” He cupped my cheek in his palm. “I’ve been holding onto that name for weeks, waiting for the right time to say it.”
“Anaïs Avila,” I whispered.
“Perfect,” he said. “Just like her mother.”
I kissed him, soft and slow, tasting the future on his lips.
“She’s going to grow up with so much love,” I said when we finally broke apart. “Grandparents, aunts,uncles, cousins. All those people who just screamed at us through the phone.”
“Chaos,” he agreed.
“The best kind.”
We lay there, in the quiet, the fire crackling softly, the ring warm on my finger. Outside, the vineyard stretched, dark and dormant, waiting for spring. Inside, everything was warmth and light, with the steady rhythm of Kick’s heartbeat beneath my ear.
This was my life now. This man. This family. This house that we would fill with children and laughter and wine made from grapes we’d grown ourselves.
I closed my eyes and let myself believe it.
All of it. Finally.
22
KICK
