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Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together. — Marilyn Monroe
“Willa.” Cade says my name like it’s a demand. “You need to wear proper undergarments while you’re at work. You can’t be dropping them out of your purse around a child.”
“He’s probably going to need a massage tomorrow,” Jasper tosses back. “Willa can do that for him,” Luke slides in casually. And we all freeze. Rhett looks like a goddamn dog with a bone. “Oh yeah? Have Willa and your dad been swapping massages?” “No. Just beds.”
I want to take it back and throw Willa over my shoulder and drag her home with me. Where she belongs.
“Not unless getting older means sending away one of the best things that’s ever happened to you with another man who isn’t too dumb to see it.”
“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.”
“Are you insane? You think I went three years without laying my hand on a single person to break my streak with one as exceptional as you and then let you just walk away?”
“I’ve watched you with my son. I’ve watched you, period. I’ve longed for you. I went crazy tonight thinking of you out with Lance. I know in my bones that I won’t want to let you go at the end of the summer, but I’ll take what I can get. Because you’re too fucking special to pass up. Fuck my promises, that’s what I was going to say.”
“Because I like you, Willa.”
“You having a stroke, son?” My dickhead dad calls from the front porch, actually making me jump.
“You’ve got it bad, boy,” is what he says, clapping me on the shoulder as I move past him.
“Hey, Willa?” “Hey, Luke,” I reply dryly, since the be quiet part obviously didn’t register. “Sometimes I wish you were my mom.”
“Well, I don’t just like you, Luke.” My voice comes out thick with emotion, but I’m not so sure he picks up on it. “I love you.” “You do?” His smile is shy—tentative. “Yeah. And that kid is a major shithead.” His hand slaps over his mouth and his eyes go wide before he whispers, “He’s a total shithead and I love you too.”
“You scared, Eaton?” I shout. “No, baby. Just enjoying the view. Your ass looks mighty fine from back here.”
It feels like he’s wiggling his way into my heart.
Winter tracked me down a pregnancy test while Cade had his fingers casted. It came back positive for a tiny Eaton, and I just sat in the waiting room staring into space.
“I’m pregnant.” Those two words come out sure and steady. So much surer and steadier than I feel right now. Cade stares at me blankly. His mouth pops open and closes again, and then he shakes his head, like it might make reality seep back in. “Surprise?” I add awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I add even more awkwardly. My head is spinning, and I’m feeling like I could use a moment alone to get my bearings—to process this— because saying it out loud to him feels so much more real. “I just found out at the hospital and have been trying to find the courage to tell you. I’m sorry.” “Why are you sorry?”
“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.”
“This is the worst fucking feeling. Why do people like being in love again? Obsessed and emotional and clingy. Overrated, if you ask me.”
“It’s two people who were both a little lost until they ended up on the same path and walked together for a while.”
“It’s two people who are happier in each other’s company than they are alone.”
“Better together than they are apart.”
“See, Dad? I told you not to be sad. I told you she’d come back. Our wishes came true! She loves us too much to leave.”
“Thank you. Thank you for being the first person in my life to put me first, to give me options. I’m not sure I deserve that gift, but I know that I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.”
“My dad knows you’re pregnant.” “Okay.” “He asked me if I have a breeding kink.” My hands come up to cover my face and laughter shakes my body. “No, he didn’t.” “He did.” “Jesus.” I murmur,
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.
A love Luke has never known. A reason for me to smile again. A person to talk to after so many years of silence. A love I’ve never known. One I’m not so sure I deserve, but one I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to preserve.
“I love you, Cade Eaton, and I am so damn proud of you,” is what she whispers in my ear while her fingers trail up the back of my neck. “I love you too, baby,” is what I get out, just before she pulls the black cowboy hat off my head and plunks it on her own.
“Do you think it would be okay if I called you mom too?”
After though. Not during. I don’t need to know Willa that well.
“I’m sorry if the magic is gone after this,” he replies with, “It’s okay, I’ve lived through a lot of calving seasons.”
Our little girl, Emma Eaton, comes into the world healthy.
Light eyes. Dark hair. She’s us. “She’s perfect,” I whisper. “Both my girls are,” is what Cade says as he crawls onto the bed beside me and holds us both. We stare at her for I don’t know how long. Entranced. Happy. And when Luke comes in to join us —complete.
