Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“How did we make it through?” I said, rearing no more than an inch from Beau’s handsome face. I marveled at the obstacles he and I had overcome. My hand cupped Beau’s neck, drawing him in and down for another kiss. Smaller arms circled my knee. Fisher was there.
“He got you too?” Beau asked playfully.
“Yup.”
Beau and I glanced down together to see Fisher’s ever-smiling face. Then he placed a kiss on my knee, then on Beau’s. His newest way of joining in our affection. Beau scooped our boy up into his arms. “You’ve been particularly good today.”
“Yup. Daddy said if I was good, we could go to the trampoline park tomorrow,” Fisher stated proudly.
“Next weekend,” I corrected, smiling.
“I like the loud pop of the bombs.” Fisher bounced off Beau’s side, mimicking the sudden burst of the streamers. “But it scared Hunter.”
“Margaritas and lunch in the foyer!” Stone interrupted again, the bullhorn still on blast. The throng of people began walking through the parking lot toward the grand foyer that had been transformed into a seascape of food and fun. Every woman of the twenty-six was given a hotel room for the weekend. The last guests to stay before the remodel began next week.
“Daddy, can we go inside?” Livie asked, tugging at the bottom of my shirt.
Linda swooped in, taking Fisher from Beau’s arms and corralling the kids with practiced ease. “Best sons,” she said, putting Fisher on his feet, who took off running. “After today, it’s time for some quiet, easy years. Leave the drama behind.”
“I’m into her idea,” Beau said, lifting a hand to motion any stragglers toward the building. “I was thinkin’ about becomin’ a house husband.”
His unexpected words stopped me in my tracks. I was stunned speechless. This same man who had given me hell over the years about paying his own way in the world was suggesting a slower pace? I searched his face for sincerity.
Beau and I had spent the last several months on a perpetual vacation, rediscovering who we were and how devoted each of us were to our family. I’d learned again about the effortless commitment, friendship, and understanding he and I had shared since day one.
The best part of the case ending successfully was my win also being my family’s win. It took a village to get here. All of us had mucked through the scum to be standing here together.
Beau extended a hand, and I readily took it, separating the space between us. “I’d love you becoming a house husband. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Come on, guy,” Beau said, chuckling at me, not with me. He released my hand to wrap an arm around my back, walking side by side with me to the front. “I don’t wanna be a house husband like the Real Housewives, but I do want to permanently slow down. I want you to too. We lived way too much life on the front end of our relationship, let’s keep the backend low-key.”
Before I could respond, Hunter’s triumphant yell drew our attention. He stood atop a mound of flowers, fists raised high, while Fisher lay face down, trapped under Hunter’s tennis shoe.
Ava stood to the side, glaring at Beau and I, her finger pointing at the boys. “See what they do? You can’t go anywhere with them. Why do we keep trying?”
“What’s wrong with those boys?” Beau muttered, quickening his pace toward the kids. To my surprise, Amelia appeared beside me, keeping stride with me.
“You did it, Dasham,” she said, her voice soft and encouraging. “You made a better life. We know love.”
My arm anchored around her shoulders, slowing our way to the entrance. “You were always my strength, Amelia. I wouldn’t be here without you. You keep this life moving for us. Especially over the last couple years. You kept me emotionally afloat.”
“All that sweetness, and you’re still good at keeping secrets.” Not necessarily the conversational direction I’d expected. I ran through the words again before turning my head to her. Based on all that accusation on her face, the sweet moment I thought we shared, turned darker.
Okay.
She knew.
Dammit.
Amelia was the secret-whisperer. She read me like a book, a toddler-level read. “Don’t tell Beau. I will after the party. I don’t know that he knows we’ve moved past the figuring it out stage.”
“How far along is she?” Amelia asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
“Six weeks,” I lied, but Amelia wasn’t fooled. “I’ve been waiting because Beau’s nervous about handling the load. He doesn’t understand I’m almost forty-one years old, and we need to wrap all this up.”
With only a look, she suddenly reduced me into a young boy, explaining why I wasn’t wrong.
“Seven weeks and three days,” she said and pulled the sonogram picture out of her bag. “Don’t leave things lying around if you don’t want them seen.”