It feels right when he scoops me up into his arms, just like he did when I fell off the ladder, and carries me into the cabin. It feels right when he lays me down on the bed, stripping off all my layers, running his hands and lips over my body.
And it feels right when he places a kiss on my belly, when I tangle my fingers in his hair and think about how miraculous this entire experience has been.
Max is thoughtful, sweet, and an artistic genius. Maybe neither of us came from the perfect home or the ideal upbringing, but together, we can give our baby the life they deserve.
“I love you,” he murmurs, smiling up at me, his hands skating along my thighs.
“I love you, too.” I laugh, another little sob catching in my throat. “And to think, all that time I really couldn’t figure out why you were helping me with the renovation.”
He laughs, and I feel the vibration in my bones, the flutter of his breath against my skin.
“Well, I’m glad I did it,” he says, flashing me a winning smile. “And I know exactly what we can do with that pink bedroom.”
EPILOGUE
LACEY - ONE YEAR LATER
“Gotta say, Lace,” Warren says, watching with wonder as Claire reaches out and wraps her fingers around his. “This is your best character creation yet.”
“I told him that joke in the car,” Vanessa scoffs, and when she laughs, Claire giggles happily in her arms, looking up at Vanessa with that wide-open, gummy smile I’ll never get tired of seeing.
There’s always that ever-present itch to take my baby back, nestle her back into my arms, but I ignore it. I trust Vanessa, and besides, I’ve been playing with Claire all morning. It’s nice to relax for a moment.
Also, there’s something undoubtedly heartwarming about seeing Vanessa and Warren — an even more unlikely pair than Max and me — giving the wholebeing togetherthing a shot. And holding a baby, nonetheless.
We’re standing in the living room of the cabin that was once Jasper’s, and now mine.Ours.It looks a little different than before. Max painted it a sea foam green after I decided I didn’twant to rent it out, and I love the way the sunlight through the windows lights up the space.
Claire laughs again, throwing her head back, and Vanessa laughs, copying her. Warren looks on with admiration.
At first, I’d worried that Max and I weren’t going to make good parents. We read the books, went to the classes, and took advice from anyone who would give it, despite the fact that a lot of it contradicted itself.
But there was nothing to worry about. Max loves me, I love him, and the moment Claire was born on a beautiful June evening, that love shifted and expanded. We have more than enough for her.
“Are we ready to go?” Max asks, walking into the living room, a huge diaper bag slung over his shoulder. Each time we leave the cabin with Claire, he acts like we’re going on an expedition, packing any number of items wemightend up needing. It’s resulted in a huge bag, and also several other parents being very impressed with us.
“We are,” Vanessa says, reaching over and handing Claire back to me. “More than ready. You’ve been talking about the fall festival since you went last year.”
“You’re going to love it,” Warren says, eyeing her. “It is totally your kind of event. But you can’t ride your motorcycle there.”
She punches him lightly in the arm, and we turn, heading out the door and to the car.
Max plucks Claire from my arms, making her laugh again, and tucks her into the car seat in the back. I circle around to thepassenger seat, and we convoy down the side of the mountain with Warren and Vanessa in the lead.
When we get to Low Pines, it’s just as cute as it was last year. We park on the edge of town and get out, chatting while Max puts together the stroller, then we set out down the road.
“Just wait until you see it,” Warren says, right before we turn the corner and spot the general store, and the crowd gathered outside it.
Actually, they’re not outside the general store; they’re gathered around the buildingbesidethe general store.
“There he is!” someone whispers as we walk past, and Max waves, smiling quickly before averting his eyes.
“He’s never going to get used to it, is he?” Warren asks as Max unlocks the shop and heads inside.
“No,” I answer, and Vanessa taps my arm, nodding her head in the direction of the crowd. Someone is wearing aHigh Pinesshirt: the game we made based on high fantasy and this town. Their shirt featuresLeithe, the succubus hardware store owner.
“Unreal,” Vanessa says, and she’s right, it is. While not a break-the-charts best-selling game, ours is doing pretty well for itself and building up a fan base of players who are entranced with the story. It’s more than I’ve ever wanted.
A moment later, Max flips the store’s sign toopenand says something to his partner behind the counter, an apprentice he’s taken on who helps him run the shop and make the furniture at his workshop. The crowd floods inside, and Max is delayed a few times for conversations before he finally makes it back to us.
