Lifting a brow, I can’t help but smile a little. “If I were, does that mean you’d say no?”
Blushing so pretty, she shakes her head. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t crazy for wanting to say yes. Seems you’re as bad as me.”
“Oh, angel…” Scooping her up, I bring her inside. “Why don’t I show you just how bad I really am, and then we can compare?”
Wiggling in my grip, she lets out a small groan. “We’re going to have to save that for tomorrow. Today is a rest day.”
Iknewwe shouldn’t have gone another round. Cursing under my breath, I nod. “Then how about another murder documentary and some non-handsy cuddling?”
Lifting in my grip, she teases me with a kiss. “Deal. But a little touching is okay.”
With that, I whisk her away with a smile big enough to cause an ache, ready to see where this new life is going to take us.
* * *
Epilogue
The barn smells of fresh straw and the simple, honest sweatof this morning’s work. Still, it’s nowhere near done. Still plenty of work to be finished.
“Easy,” I say, my hand over my son’s smaller one on the cow’s teat. “It’s not a tug-of-war. It’s a rhythm. Squeeze, pull, release. Like this.”
Beside me, Asher’s little face is a portrait of fierce concentration, his brow furrowed exactly like mine when I get worked up. He’s got my stubborn chin, currently set in determination as he mimics my motion. But his eyes—wide, expressive, and the color of summer honey are all his mother’s.
“Squeeze… pull… release…” he mutters under his breath, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. A thin, steady stream of milk hits the pail with a soft ping.
“There you go,” I say, hands moving to my hips as I watch him make his way toward being a pro. “You’ve got it.”
I let him take over, my hands hovering nearby just in case. He’s still a little nervous around the animals, but once he realizes they don’t bite too hard, he’ll be just fine.
That’s when I feel it. The shift in the air. The prickle on the back of my neck that has nothing to do with the morning sun cutting through the barn boards.
I lift my gaze, and theresheis.
Millie is leaning against the barn entrance, backlit by the fierce Montana light, so she’s all silhouette and grace. She’s holding two glasses of lemonade, beaded with condensation.
I bet she juiced fresh lemons, just because that’s how I like it made. My wife, man.
She’s wearing a simple sundress, the color of buttercream, and her hair is piled up in a messy knot with little wisps escaping to curl at her neck. Every morning, she tends the chickens and then cleans up, wrapping her body in my weakness.
“Mom!” Asher abandons the cow’s teat, the rhythm forgotten, the pail and all his hard work instantly irrelevant inthe face of her presence. He scrambles to his feet, scattering straw, and bolts toward her.
“Hey, cowboy!” she laughs, bending down to hand him a glass. He takes it with both hands, gulping noisily, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. He’s used to being spoiled by her, too. Like father, like son.
I rise more slowly, wiping my hands on my jeans, my own smile feeling like it’s permanently etched into my face these days. I cross the barn, eliminating the space between us instantly.
She meets my eyes over the rim of Asher’s head, her smile turning cheeky. I stop in front of her, drink in the sight, and have to convince myself that we’re not alone. But I don’t have to press her against anything to release a little steam.
I don’t say a word. I just cup her cheek, my thumb stroking that soft skin, and lean down to kiss her. It’s not a hungry kiss, not here in the daylight with our boy watching. It’s a silent thank you. Her lips are cool and sweet, tasting faintly of lemon and sugar.
She sighs into it, a little hum of contentment that vibrates straight through me.
“Ewwww!” Asher’s voice, thick with disgust, breaks the spell.
I pull back just enough to rest my forehead against Millie’s. “Drink your lemonade, son,” I say, my voice rough. A kiss has to be enough for now. Ithasto be.
She giggles, amused by my struggle. “I was getting worried you two were overheating out here.”
“I think you just wanted to see me after a couple of hours,” I murmur, my lips brushing hers again.
