His voice is raspier than it was a moment earlier. “He dared me to bid on the work.”
I flip through the file, but there’s too many pages and my own eyes are hazing over. Flinging it next to my plate, I beg him, “Just tell us what it means, Jennings.”
Reaching over, he takes Kevin’s hand before he reaches for mine. As if I needed another reason to love him. “It means, that”—he nods at the folder—“it’s a big enough contract to open up the southeast division of Northern Star Flights. I’ll be transferring some guys, but I need to hire pilots. For the next five years, we have an exclusive contract with the hotel to fly executives and VIPs from St. Augustine to the Caribbean, St. Simons, well, pretty much anywhere they ask within a day-trip radius.”
“Jennings?” I say it at the exact same time Kevin pleads, “Dad?” The word is a hope, a wish, a prayer from us both.
“It means, we’re going to need a bigger house. I looked up your model online, and there’s no way—umpphh.” Kevin and I tackle Jennings out of his chair at the exact same moment.
We’re laughing and talking over one another, making plans and celebrating. What we’re not doing is letting go. According to Jennings, we never have to do that again.
For long moments we lie on the kitchen floor a tangled heap of family. My head is on Jennings’s chest. Kevin has a grip of his dad’s hand, but he’s rolled off to the side. Amused, I know there’s nothing that’s going to be able to wipe the smile from his face for a long time. And that’s because one of the two men who would do anything for me, did. Squeezing my eyes tight, I pray he can hear me.
Thank you, Jed.
I’m surprised when Jennings leans over to whisper in my ear, “I said almost the exact same thing when I got the email,” before he presses a kiss on the edge. Lifting us both into a sitting position with an ab curl that makes my toes tingle, he announces, “Now, let’s finish eating. Kara, you have to work tomorrow, and I’m taking over your kitchen while you’re there. I need to make some calls to some real estate agents for office space.”
“Mom, Dad can come to my swim meet tomorrow night,” Kevin says with excitement, scrambling to his feet. “Can I call Brooks to let him know?”
“Quickly. Then you have to finish dinner and studying for your history test,” I warn him.
“On it.” He starts to dash away but freezes. Turning, he jogs back and captures both of us in a hug. Summarizing everything we’re all feeling, Kevin chokes out, “I’ll always miss Uncle Dean and Uncle Jed, but now I feel like I have everything.” Then he dashes away calling, “Save me some pepperoni,” over his shoulder.
Jennings and I don’t move from our position on the floor. Still cradled in his lap, I whisper to him, “This exact moment was worth waiting my life for.”
Groaning, Jennings drops his head and nips my lips, demanding entrance. His tongue seeks and finds mine, licking and twining against it. I don’t give him passive; I give him everything in that kiss. My tongue strokes over his, seeking the warm recesses of his mouth, relearning the taste I’ve been so long denied due to distance. What had been merely dormant since that last night in Alaska only began to flame out of control between us.
That was until we heard, “Come on. Am I going to have to put ground rules in place?” Kevin stomps back into the kitchen. But as aggrieved as he sounds, his face is shining with joy.
Jennings gets to his feet before lifting me to mine. Then he turns a wicked grin to our son. “Get used to it, kid. Who knows, if I can convince your mother, maybe we’ll give you a little brother or sister yet.”
My womb convulses at the idea of carrying John Jennings’s child while he’d be with me the whole pregnancy. But we’ve had enough excitement for tonight. So, all I say is a mild “We’ll see. Now, what do you mean the new house is too small? It’s perfectly lovely.”
And just like a normal family, we begin bickering about things like three-car garages around the kitchen table. Because that’s what we are—a family.
Finally.
Epilogue
Kara
“What do you mean there’s no time for an epidural?” I shriek in the face of the anesthesiologist. I reach out and