When Alec Met Evie (Appies, #6)

by Jenny Proctor

“I mean, my bank account balance is abysmal, I still can’t fit into my favorite jeans, and I’m hormonal enough to cry at every single dog rescue video that comes across my feed. But otherwise, yeah. I really think so.”

Evie is buzzing with energy, her cheeks pink from exertion, her eyes bright. With Juno in her arms, she looks like life. Like happiness.

I haven’t felt a stronger sense of victory since we took the Calder Cup last season. Juno is asleep—in my arms. I did this. And it feels amazing.

Plus, he brought home an Appies jersey for me from his game, and he’s talking to me like I’m a real person and not just a frumpy, exhausted dairy cow. He’s being so nice, Megan. Thoughtful in ways that are literally the exact opposite of Devon.”

And then my heart climbs into my throat because Alec starts to sing.

When he sings the line, “For one so small, you seem so strong,” tears fill my eyes.

I repeat the face and watch in wonder as Juno laughs again and again, feet kicking in excitement. An ache forms deep in my chest that I can't identify at first, but then it shifts and sharpens, and I recognize it for what it is. I want this. I want lazy mornings in bed with my wife, a kid tucked between us. I want to make coffee for someone as easily as I make it for myself. I want to talk about a baby laughing or rolling over for the first time. I want to be a dad.