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My feet root to the ground, and my lungs stop working. Her laugh has nothing on her face. Cat-like eyes, arched brows, and milky skin. She’s fucking stunning.
My eyes shoot to hers, all wide and green. So many shades. A mosaic.
“Sounds like her loss, because you might be the coolest kid I’ve ever met.” She doesn’t use a sad voice, or a baby voice, she just talks to him like a normal human being. “Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath because she just practically hired herself.
All thick arms and broad chest and furrowed brow. Dirty boots. Muscular thighs. Cowboy porn with a frown.
I’ll take a boozy brunch with my bestie and a dirty book in bed by eight for a thousand, Alex.
If nothing else, Willa Grant is a stunner.
I heave the suitcase out just in time to watch them walk hand in hand into my house, and for some reason, I stop and watch. Unable to look away. Lots of people have walked through that front door. But somehow this feels different.
“Daddy Cade it is.”
“Beg.” “Pardon me?” “You heard me.” Her lips don’t even twitch. She’s not joking at all. “Beg.”
Then I feel it. The scowl. My eyes shift, and Cade is staring right at me, bulging arms crossed over his impossibly broad chest. Biceps straining against his signature black T-shirt. And my cheeks heat for no good reason other than my body is a traitor and I’m probably ovulating.
And for once, Cade Eaton isn’t scowling at me.
“Eaton. You grumpy motherfucker. You just laughed,” I blurt. “Yeah, Red. I did.”
And I feel like I want all her smiles for myself.
“The joke’s on you though. I wouldn’t last ten minutes and just because you’d be quiet doesn’t mean I would be.”
Willa might be a bit of a psycho—after all, she did just push a child into the pool—but the more time I spend with her, the more I feel like she’s my psycho.
“That’s my girl.” His deep voice vibrates through my bones, and then his fingers are in my hair, gently combing it back into a ponytail and wrapping a soft silk scrunchy around it.
Grumpy Cade is hot. Sweet Cade is irresistible.
“Keep talking like that and I’m going to fuck the filth right out of your pretty mouth.”
“You heard me, Red. You keep barking at me like that and I’m going to put you on your knees, open those strawberry lips, and fuck your face just to shut you up.”
When he murmurs, “That’s my girl,” while looking me in the eye, nothing in the world has ever felt more right. My girl.
We build each other up. We tidy one another’s loose ends. We fit so perfectly.
“Because you’ve never been just the nanny, Willa.”
“You want it all, Willa? The house? The babies? The ranch?” I nod again because it’s all I can do. I want all that. With him. “You want me, Willa?” “Yes.” I cry out against the soft fabric, nodding frantically as he slams into me. I want him so badly it hurts. “Good. Because I’m sick of holding back with you. You’re not going anywhere. You belong here, with me.”
It hits me hard as we drive in a companionable silence that Willa is that person. My person.
She blinks at me, and I rub my thumbs along the arches of her feet and up her ankles. “I haven’t shaved my legs.” I chuckle. “I don’t care. Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you, Willa. Prickly legs, random carrots in your purse, pregnant, not pregnant. I want you.”
A country boy who looks as good as Cade Eaton should be illegal. But instead, he’s mine.
“And this one is yours.” He points at a heart that’s right next to one with the initials C.E., except this one says W.E. “My initials are W.G., bud.” I give him another squeeze and he giggles. Cluelessly. “I know. But dad made that one. I told him the same thing.” My head snaps around to Cade, who still hasn’t moved but is staring at me like I might disappear if he blinks. “But he said they wouldn’t be for long.”
We stand in silence for several minutes, just holding each other in the middle of the front yard, beside the heart he made for me, with my future initials written into the center. Like he’s just that sure of me—of us. Like we’re better together and he knows it. “I love you, Cade,” I murmur against his chest. “I love you too, Red.” Then he just holds me tighter, and I hope he never lets go.
And I realize in that moment maybe I am heartless after all, because the beautiful girl with the copper hair grinning back at me right now is the one who stole it.
Our little girl, Emma Eaton, comes into the world healthy. Kicking and screaming and surrounded by so much love that tears trail freely down our cheeks.
We stare at her for I don’t know how long. Entranced. Happy. And when Luke comes in to join us—complete.
