Chapter 10
TEN
Kian
Five Years Later…
I stand in the driveway, coffee in hand, watching my wife back a truck out of the garage.
My wife.
I’ll never get tired of thinking those words.
Larsen’s tongue is poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration, both hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes flicking between the mirrors like she’s performing brain surgery instead of backing out.
She doesn’t need to concentrate this hard anymore. She’s a damn good driver, but old habits die hard.
I lean against the doorframe, smiling to myself as she eases the truck perfectly into the driveway, stops, and throws her hands in the air.
“Yes!” she cheers through the open window.
I laugh. “Darling, you’ve been driving for five years,” I call out. “You don’t have to celebrate every time you park.”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “I absolutely do. I barely get to drive. You always take me everywhere.”
She hops out of the truck, bundled in a big coat, scarf wrapped around her neck, black hair spilling out beneath her beanie. She’s got that soft glow about her that still hits me right in the chest, same as the day I first saw her in Murphy’s Bar.
Only now she’s wearing my ring.
She pads over and slides into my space. I reach for her instantly, the action instinct after all these years.
“You ready?” she asks.
“Born ready.”
She grins.
We’re headed into town for breakfast at the Nosh Diner, Ford’s brother’s diner. After that, she’s got a shift at the bank, and I’ve got a full day at the shop.
Same routines, same rhythms, but different lives than we had five years ago.
Better ones.
I moved in with Larsen in her little house. It’s not so little anymore. We added an extension a few years ago and built another garage out back that I use for my side projects.
It’s been perfect.
So is she.
Inside, the house smells like coffee and cinnamon. Larsen insisted on baking muffins from scratch this morning because she likes to show off for me.
I slide my arms into my jacket and follow her out to the truck. She climbs into the driver’s seat without hesitation, buckling up like it’s second nature.
I still remember the first time she ever touched my steering wheel. The fear in her eyes, the way she shook, the way she thought she was too much, too heavy, too flawed, too everything.
Now she’s confident. Still soft, still sweet, but stronger and braver.
Mine.
She reaches across the console and grabs my hand as soon as I buckle in. Another habit. One I fully encourage.
“Did I tell you Blair’s pregnant again?” she asks as she starts the engine.
I raise an eyebrow. “Again?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yep. Cole is apparently incapable of staying away from his wife.”
I snort. “Can’t relate,” I deadpan.
She laughs and squeezes my hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me.”
“I do,” she says easily.
Five years later, and it still hits me right in the chest every time she says it.
We drive into town, passing familiar storefronts, familiar houses, familiar faces. Wolf Valley stopped feeling like a stopover a long time ago. It’s home.
After breakfast, I walk her to the bank, same as always.
She kisses my cheek before hopping out. “Don’t forget. Dinner at Blake and Luca’s tonight.”
“I won’t.”
“And we’re bringing dessert.”
“I definitely won’t forget that part.”
Larsen smiles that soft, happy smile that still feels like a gift. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
She shakes her head. “Impossible.”
Heading inside, she waves over her shoulder. I stand there for a second longer than necessary, watching her go.
Yeah, I’m still completely obsessed with my wife.
I drive down the street, park outside work, then go inside.
Ford claps me on the shoulder as soon as I walk in, greeting me with a wide smile. “Morning, man.”
“Morning.”
Ransom’s already there, leaning against a toolbox. “How’s the wife?”
“Perfect.”
“Got big plans for your anniversary?” Ford asks.
“Yeah. Her present will be here tomorrow. Just in time.”
“Still can’t believe you proposed in a truck,” Ransom says, shaking his head.
My friends love giving me shit about that, but I’m used to it by now.
“She said yes.” I shrug.
“Fair point.”
The day flies by. It always does when your life is exactly what you want it to be.
I get off work and drive toward the bank to pick up my wife. She comes outside as I pull into a parking spot, and I grin as she approaches.
“Hi,” she says, climbing into the passenger seat.
“Hi.”
She tilts her face up, and I kiss her soft, slow, and easy.
Five years together, and it still feels new.
“How was work?” I ask as we head home.
Larsen yawns, resting her head on my shoulder. “Today was a good day.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, lifting her left hand and turning it so the light catches her rings. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe you’re my husband.”
I glance at her. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re my wife.”
She smiles. “Remember when I thought I was too heavy to sit on your lap?”
I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
She laughs softly. “You were so mad.”
“You were calling my girl names. Of course, I was mad.”
She presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For loving me.”
My throat tightens. “I loved you from the start.”
“I know,” she says. “I feel it.”
We pull into the driveway, and she doesn’t rush to get out. Instead, she turns toward me, climbing into my lap like she did all those years ago. Some things never change.
She cups my face, and then she’s kissing me.
Slow.
Deep.
Full of everything we’ve built together.
When she pulls back, her forehead rests against mine. I tighten my arms around my wife, already knowing one thing with absolute certainty:
Five years.
Fifty years.
Forever.
It will never be long enough with her.
* * *