"She’s an English teacher, really smart and sweet?—"
"Nope. No. Absolutely not."
“Please,Dad!" Riley clasps her hands together. "Please please please let Coach Sloane set you up!"
"No. Forget it."
"Ugh! You’re such a grump. And no fun atall."
“Too bad, so sad.” Wade grunts.
Sloane catches my eye across the room and winks.
I lean back against the couch cushions, as I watch my family—because that's what they are, blood or not—bicker and laugh and pull Sloane deeper into their orbit.
This right here, with Sloane already scheming to spread the happiness around, Riley bouncing with excitement, and Wade trying to fend off their efforts, is exactly where I belong.
Sloane shifts closer to me on the couch, her thigh pressing against mine. I slide my hand into hers.
She looks up at me, her smile soft, just for me. She leans close and whispers into my ear so no one can hear.
"Are you happy, Daddy?" she whispers, echoing Wade's question from earlier.
I look at our clasped hands.
"Yes, sweetheart. Yes, I am."
EPILOGUE - SLOANE
Ike told me the station often smells more like a bakery,or even a diner, than an actual firehouse these days.
And as we walk through the door, I can see his point.
Today it’s pot roast, as Aiden mentioned he’d be making—rich and savory, with undertones of garlic and rosemary that make my stomach growl.
“You should’ve snuck a roll like I did to hold you over,” Ike says, hearing it. He’d plucked one right out of my basket while I was buckling my seatbelt.
“I didn’t want to spoil my dinner, likesomepeople,” I reply.
He chuckles. "Sweetheart, I could eat a dozen of these and still put away a full plate. Your rolls are that good."
I can’t help but melt at his compliment. Especially when he's looking at me like that, butter on his lip and mischief in his gray eyes.
Now, walking into the fire station with his hand on the small of my back, I'm hit with a wave of noise and warmth that's become wonderfully familiar over the past couple of months. Music plays from someone's speaker and voices overlap in that chaotic harmony.
This place has become my second home. These people have become my family.
"There she is!" Aiden's voice booms from the kitchen. He's standing at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, looking far too pleased with himself. "Please tell me those are your honey butter rolls."
"Would I show up empty-handed?" I hold up the basket, and his face lights up.
"You're an angel. A literal angel." He abandons his pot roast long enough to peek under the towel covering the rolls, inhaling deeply. "Oh, that's the good stuff. Beth, babe, smell this."
Beth appears at his side, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She's wearing a soft floral wrap dress and her hair in a tortoise shell clip that is so pretty, and her smile is as warm as ever.
"Sloane! It’s good to see you." She pulls me into a hug, then peers into the basket herself. "Oh wow, these smell delicious.”
“You have to teach me how you get them so fluffy," Aiden says.
