my name and dig her nails into the back of my neck.
“I love you so much.” I push up on my forearm, aware that she’s close to coming again, and I want to watch it happen, because the next time it does she’ll officially be mine forever.
She touches my cheek, eyes soft and full of need. “And I love you.” Her soft gasp is followed by “Oh God” and my name. It isn’t until the stiffness in her body eases and her hips stop jerking into mine that I change the tempo, moving faster, chasing my own orgasm.
She drags her nails down my back. “Let me finish you on top.”
I love it when she says things like that. I don’t know what it is about the phrasing, but it intimates a possessiveness that sets me off. I roll onto my back, taking her with me. She splays her hands out on my chest and rides me, hips moving in a figure eight, keeping me deep for several beats before she rises up and her ass settles on my thighs, breasts bouncing, long hair swaying down her back.
She leans down, back arching, nipples brushing my chest. “You’re so beautiful.” She bites my bottom lip. “And you’re all mine.” She grinds over me, hard and steady, squeezing me from the inside. “Every part of you is mine, just like every part of me is yours.”
I grab her by the hips, sit up, and wrap her legs around my waist, lifting and lowering her, faster, harder, until her mouth drops open. “I’m right here,” she whispers against my lips. “Come with me.”
This time we fall through the clouds one right after the other.
We stay wrapped in each other, kissing, hands caressing, for long minutes. At least until both of our phones start going off. Now that we have Kody, I upgraded the service.
We grab them, clear our throats at the same time, and laugh against each other’s shoulders as we answer our respective calls.
I can’t hear the conversation on Lainey’s end, but based on her responses I’m pretty sure the questions are the same.
“She’s yours forever as of tomorrow—you can survive without her for one night.”
My brother has a point—we’re leaving for Hawaii in two days for a weeklong trip. The grandparents are going to take care of Kody and enjoy Alaska and the cabin.
“I’ll be ready to go in fifteen minutes,” I tell Kyle before I end the call.
Lainey lifts off, and I groan at the cold air that’s nothing like her warm, wet softness.
She presses a kiss to my lips. “Less than twenty-four hours and you get to have me again.”
“Forever.”
“And ever.”
We change into jeans and matching plaid shirts, because we are totally that couple. They also say Groom to Be and Bride to Be on the back. I open the window to let in a little fresh air and to help get rid of the freshly fucked scent in our bedroom.
Lainey absently runs a brush through her hair, grinning devilishly as the curtains flutter with a cool breeze. She’s about to make a pithy comment, based on her expression. At least until something white skitters out from under the bed and across the floor. She yelps and clambers up onto the unmade bed. It’s unnecessary, since it’s just a piece of paper, not a mouse—which I’ve discovered she’s fine with when they’re outside, but not so much in the cabin. I bend to pick it up, recognizing Lainey’s distinct handwriting. It’s dated the day after I left Alaska, two years ago.
RJ,
A storm took out the power and the phone lines were all down until this morning. I waited as long as I could to hear from you. Even if you don’t get this for another year, know that this isn’t where I want us to end, so if you feel the same way please call me.
Yours,
Lainey
“It was here the entire time.” It must’ve fallen on the floor and ended up under the bed.
“What was?”
I hold it out to her, and she takes it, her smile soft and sad as she realizes what it is.
She places a gentle hand on my cheek. “We made it back to each other—that’s all that matters now.”
I pull her into my arms, grateful that fate found a way to bring us back together. We stay that way for a long while, just holding each other, until static brings the baby monitor to life. We both look at it at the same time. Kody sleeps through the night most of the time, so we don’t need it like we used to—but the little dots are jumping all over the place, signaling sound, so she turns it up.
“What’s he doing?”
We can hear him babbling in his room—but there’s another sound, a whoosh-clunk, like maybe he’s hitting the side of his crib with something.
“I hope he hasn’t managed to get out of his crib—I’m so not ready for that.” Lainey turns on the video monitor.
He’s only fifteen months old, but he’s done everything early—and I mean everything. From his physical capabilities to words, this kid has hit the genetic jackpot. He’s got his mother’s incredible brain and determination and my size and athleticism. He’s going to have the world in the palm of his hand, especially with a mom like Lainey to keep him in line.
“Oh my God, you need to see this.” She motions me over and turns the video monitor so I can see.
Kody is still in his crib. At one end is his teddy bear with the Bowman jersey—it goes with him everywhere—and Kody is standing at the opposite end, holding the little hockey stick I bought him, playing with the puck, shooting it down to the teddy. We watch him shoot, toddle down to his bear and pick it up, then move back to the other end and do it all over again.
“He wouldn’t let it go when I put him to bed, wanted to sleep with it. Now I guess we know why.”
“Pretty sure this one is following in his daddy’s footsteps.” She tips her head back so she can aim her smile at me.
I slip my arm around her waist and splay my hand out over her flat belly. “Maybe he needs a little brother or sister to play with.”
“I’ll stop taking my pill so we can start filling up the bedrooms as soon as I’m Mrs. Rook James Bowman.”
Lainey
I can’t stop smiling, or crying, and we haven’t even said our vows yet. Thank God for waterproof mascara.
Eden hands me yet another tissue, and RJ takes my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes are full of the same emotion as mine, but he manages not to let his leak out.
We watch as RJ’s sister, Stevie, guides Kody, who is our ring bearer, down the aisle to us. It’s a small wedding, just our immediate family and close friends. Well, as small as it can be with seven brothers and sisters on my side and a few of RJ’s current teammates from Seattle, as well as the ones we’ve stayed close with from Chicago. Having people stare at me makes me anxious, but I’ve learned how to manage it this year.
Kody looks adorable in his tiny little black tux, bumbling happily toward us with a big grin on his face. Eden tries to take the pillow with the rings, but he clutches it to his chest and yells, “Mine!”
It takes some gentle coaxing from me and RJ to get Kody to let us claim the rings. Then, when our mothers try to lead him to the chairs in the front row, he calls out, “Mama! Dada!” and reaches for us.
“It’s all right—all my vows today include Kody.” RJ scoops him up, and I flank him, wrapping my arm around Kody as well.
He keeps playing with the flowers in my hair while the minister has us say our vows, and he pokes RJ in the nose more than once when he sniffles. And when the minister says, “You may kiss the bride,” Kody presses a warm palm against each of our cheeks. We follow our own kiss with a big sloppy one on both of his cheeks. His giggles of pure joy set off a chain reaction in the guests.
Kody is the reason I ended up in Chicago; he’s the reason I gave RJ a second chance. He showed me what real love looks like, the unconditional kind and the forgiving kind, and the kind that transcends time and distance and leads two hearts back to each other.
My heart is stronger for having been broken and healed by the man who gave me my greatest love. And from here, we get to watch it grow together.