Page 95 of A Simple Life

“Daydreaming. What are you doing here?”

“It’s our anniversary. Did you think I forgot?”

I laughed. “You reminded me last week, last night, this morning as we made love, and you wrote me a poem. I knew you didn’t forget.”

“Well, I decided flowers were necessary.”

I took the bouquet, inhaling the blooms’ enticing scent. “Thank you.”

He bent and kissed me. “Thank you for a wonderful first year. I look forward to many, many more.”

Pulling out a chair, he sat beside me. “Memories,” he murmured. “Such good memories.”

“Yep. I was recalling how sexy you looked in your suit.”

“Not half as sexy as you looked in that damn dress. I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and run someplace so I could rip it off you.”

I nudged him. “What, my overalls don’t do it for you?”

He tugged on my straps, pulling me close. “Woman, you do it for me all the time.” He kissed me soundly. “Every. Damn. Day.”

“I see.”

“I got you a present,” he murmured, still holding me close, his lips hovering near mine.

“Is it in your pocket, or you’re just happy to see me?”

He started to laugh, kissing me again. “Both.”

He pulled out a folded envelope. “It’s not really from me, but I get to give it to you.”

I took the envelope and unfolded the document in it, gasping in happiness. “Really? The building is mine?”

“Signed, sealed, and delivered.”

I flung my arms around his neck. “I own a building!”

He hugged me close. “You do. The Dill has a permanent home, and if you want to expand, you can.”

“I was thinking of putting a small market next door. Showcasing local goods.”

He stroked my cheek. “Great idea. The tradesmen in town can help renovate it. Show off their skills. There is a new development down the road, seeing their work might help them find jobs.”

“Perfect.”

I smiled as I slipped my hand into my purse, pulling out a flat box. “I have something for you too.”

“Yeah?”

I handed him the package. “Yeah. Happy anniversary, John.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna love it.”

“I hope so.”

He unwrapped the box and pulled out a frame. He studied the blurry black-and-white image for a moment, then froze. He looked up, expectant and happy. “Really, Quinn?”

“I’m pregnant,” I confirmed. I tapped the image. “That’s our baby.”