“Get used to it.”
Later, we bundled up and took our coffee out to the porch. Morning light stretched over the mountains, mist lingering in the valleys, the world quiet and unhurried.
Sydney leaned into my side, and I pulled her close. We stood there like that for a long time, not talking.
“I’m keeping you,” I said eventually.
She laughed, tilting her head back to look at me. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. The mountains stood watch, patient and eternal, and somewhere down in town, a life waited for us to build it.
I couldn’t wait to get started.
EPILOGUE
SYDNEY
The overlook hadn’t changed in four years.
Same wide pullout carved into the mountain road. Same view stretching for miles—layered ridges fading from green to blue to hazy purple, the valley nestled below like a secret waiting to be discovered. Same afternoon light painting everything gold.
I climbed out of the truck and breathed deep, letting the clean mountain air fill my lungs. Beside me, Kross did the same, his door shutting with a familiarthunk. He came around to my side and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him as we took in the view.
“You going to tell me what this is about?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against my hair. “Not that I’m complaining. But you don’t usually kidnap me from job sites in the middle of the day.”
I smiled, leaning into his warmth. “Maybe I just wanted some alone time with my husband.”
“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying it. “And the kids?”
“Keaton’s wife offered to watch them for a few hours. Maggie’s teaching Lara how to make cookies, and Trey is happyas long as his sister is in sight.” I tilted my head back to look at him. “They’re fine. We have time.”
He studied my face, dark eyes searching for clues. I kept my expression innocent, which only made him more suspicious.
The truth was, I had a surprise for him. A big one. But I wasn’t ready to share it yet. First, I wanted this—the quiet, the view, the man I’d built a life with standing solid and warm beside me.
Four years ago, I’d stood in this exact spot as a terrified twenty-three-year-old who’d never been kissed, never made a decision without her parents’ approval, never dared to dream this big. Kross had pulled over on our drive from the bus station to show me the view, and I’d looked out at those mountains and felt something—hope, maybe. Or the first fragile seed of belonging.
Now I was twenty-seven, a mother of two with a third on the way, married to a man who loved me exactly as I was. We’d expanded the cabin twice to make room for our growing family. Our daughter had inherited her father’s stubbornness and my tendency to ask too many questions. Our son toddled after her everywhere, determined to keep up despite his shorter legs. And Biscuit—the scruffy mutt we’d fostered during that first rescue operation and never managed to give back—ruled the porch like a benevolent king.
It was everything I’d wanted. Everything I’d been afraid to ask for.
And now I got to tell Kross we were adding one more to the chaos.
But first…
I turned in his arms, sliding my hands up his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his work shirt. He’d come straight from the job site, sawdust still clinging to his jeans, and he smelled like pine and sweat and home.
“Remember the first time you brought me here?” I asked.
“Of course I do.” His hands settled on my hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles through my dress. “You looked at the view like you’d never seen mountains before.”
“I hadn’t. Not like this.” I rose on my toes and brushed my lips along his jaw. “I knew that day I’d made the right choice.”
His arms tightened around me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I kissed the corner of his mouth, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “And I thought maybe we could make some new memories here. If you’re interested.”
Heat flickered in his gaze. “What kind of memories?”
