“We did it,” Caleb says, wrapping me up in his arms from behind as I set our hammer down on my desk. “The ten-year plan is complete and then some.” I laugh, admiring the wall. “We’re getting old, Linwood,” I tease. “No, baby,” he says, tucking his chin against my neck, those aged but familiar features that I love so much burrowed into the side of my face. “We’re just getting started.”
