“It is, Summer. It’s so much more.”
“I know. It is. We are. And I’m so glad we figured it out,” I said, resting my hand over his heart. He put his hand on top of mine, and I closed my eyes, basking in bliss.
“Me too. Because I meant what I said. I want you here with me. I want to start a life with you.”
“I want that more than anything too, Maverick. I love you.”
It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and I felt the first tendrils of sleep wrapping around my mind like a warm blanket. In the light of morning, there would be more confessions shared and promises made, because we’d chosento come back to life for one another, knowing we were better together.
The old Summer would have been filled with doubts, but the new one decided she’d already made a choice—finding this new beginning in the most unlikely of places, when neither of us were looking, and forging it into something strong and precious.
I refused to squander this gift with bitterness and mistrust.
“I love you too,” Maverick said, raising the hand from on top of mine to caress my hair.
We stayed like that, wrapped in one another until the creak of his bedroom door disturbed the quiet, followed by a low yip.
“What is it girl?” I asked Malibu, who trotted over to Maverick’s side and rested her head on the comforter.
“You can’t come up here. You know that princess. I’ll take you for a walk in a few.”
He adjusted us on the bed so he could reach over and scratch her head while her tail thumped on the floor.
“Aw. Let her up for just a few minutes,” I cajoled, leaning over his stomach.
“Just for a minute,” he relented. “I don’t want this to become a habit. She’s a bed hog.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Oh, it is, trust me. And why do I get the feeling it’s going to be next to impossible to say no to you?”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” I giggled, pressing a kiss to his chest as Malibu yipped her agreement.
“No, baby. That wouldn’t be a bad thing at all.”
The End
Epilogue
Iwoke to thegentle tap of tiny fingers on the hand that was dangling from the edge of the bed. I didn’t need to open my eyes—I already knew who it was and what they wanted—but I desperately needed a few more minutes of shut-eye, so Ipretended I didn’t feel anything and stayed still. Sunlight was barely visible behind my eyelids, telling me it was still some unholy hour of the morning. During the weekend.
The tiny fingers moved from my hand to tap my cheek, the movement getting progressively harder the longer I faked sleep. With the reflexes of someone long used to this routine, I snatched the little bundle of energy around his waist and dragged him into the bed and underneath the heavy comforter.
The high-pitched squeal of delight made me smile, especially when a larger but delicate hand reached over and caressed the side of my thigh, immediately making my thoughts wake up and turn filthy. A flirty chuckle filled the air as the small body wedged itself between us, snuggling into my side and wrapping an arm around my middle. I leaned down and pressed a kiss against the messy head of dark hair as Summer yawned, cozying up to us.
We had precious seconds before the rest of our entourage made their presence known, so I took a moment and closed my eyes, breathing in the scents of vanilla and mint from the humidifier working overtime on the dresser. I’d never expected that my life would have taken such a left turn from what I perceived as normal, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Most days, I looked on in a perpetual state of exhausted awe, wondering how I got so lucky. Sure, the days were long, and the nights were sleepless, but I’d never understand how I could have thought my life was complete before.
A cold nose made its way under the comforter and nudged me until I cracked one eye open and patted the bed. Malibu yipped and jumped, wedging herself on the other side of Summer, who sighed.
“Hot toast, Da,” Martin said, tapping my chest with his index finger.
“What was that, little man?”
“Please, hot toast,” the feisty three-year-old repeated, turning to face his mom when I didn’t give him the answer he wanted.
I tickled his belly and then groaned as a full, warm pull-up squished against me.
“Rock, paper, scissors to see who does breakfast and who does bathroom?” I asked, propping my head on my elbow and looking over my son to face my wife.
