EPILOGUE - TEN YEARS Later
On a fall morning where the air was just crisp enough and my big, beautiful yard was littered with colorful leaves from my big, beautiful oak tree, it was the perfect day for a party.
The house and yard were packed with people attending, with my husband and father-in-law outside manning the giant barbecue grill.
In the enormous kitchen my husband had spent years renovating into a stainless steel paradise for me, I added some last minute details onto a birthday cake.
The atmosphere was loud and hectic but I was totally zen, used to the chaos.
We’d been hosting parties for years now, usually alternating locations with Mom and Dad.
“Can I help?” Astrid asked, perched on a tall chair pulled up to the quartz countertop. Just barely into her tween years, my precious niece already loved everything pink, girly, and glittery. So it went without saying that we got along splendidly.
“Of course,” I said, pushing a little porcelain dish over to her, sending the fancy edible pearls in it rolling and clacking against the sides. “Just fill in the rest of the empty spaces.”
She’d been saying she wanted to be a baker since she was seven, and loved watching and helping me with whatever I was willing to teach her. I was too finicky about my working conditions to hire a real assistant, so I wouldn’t mind taking her on as an adorable little protégé one day.
“You’re not going to let Ryder dig around and put her face in this, are you?” She questioned, squinting as she picked up a pearl with the designated tweezers and painstakingly placing it onto the pillowy frosting between the pastel rainbows and fondant bows.
“God, no,” I answered, cringing as I imagined all my hard work destroyed in an instant.
Even if the cake was meant to be sliced up and eaten by everyone at the party, I didn’t think I could stomach watching what my sweet little human wrecking ball would do to it. “I made a smaller cake just for her.”
“That’s going to be cute,” she said. “Mom said you guys did that with me too, but I don’t remember.”
“Well, I remember,” I assured her. Of course she wouldn’t remember what we’d done for her first birthday. “And I have tons of pictures to prove how adorable you were.”
As I watched her transfer a few more shimmering candies onto the cake, pleased with her technique at such a young age, a pair of boys made their way down the stairs, beating each other over the head with foam swords and shouting what I thought was supposed to be pirate lingo at each other.
Our oldest and Benji and Josie’s youngest were only three months apart in age, and completely inseparable, just like Benji and I had always talked about.
“Keaton,” I said, and he froze, turning to face me while attempting to hide the comically large toy sword behind his back. His cousin Archer did the same, both giant foam blades sticking out from behind their tiny bodies.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“Are you supposed to be playing with that in the house?”
“Um… I don’t remember,” he lied, before blinking his lashes at me in an attempt at mercy. My heart clenched, predictably. It was always hard for me to discipline him. With his mop of dark hair and pale blue eyes, he already looked like Rhys’ little clone.
We’d used the same surrogate for both of our kids, Keaton with Rhys’ DNA and Ryder with mine.
I wasn’t sure if she’d end up looking like a miniature version of me yet.
All I knew was that along with Keaton, she was the most perfect and precious thing that had ever and would ever exist on the planet.
“You don’t remember?” I repeated doubtfully. He rocked back on the heels of his little sneakers, glancing up at the ceiling innocently.
At that moment, Rhys slid open the patio door and walked through, his eyes immediately landing on his son and nephew. Shifting Ryder on his hip, he reached out and snatched the foam sword from behind Keaton’s back, giving him a whack over his head before pretending to run him through.
“Rhys!” I said his name while Keaton giggled wildly, making exaggerated dying noises as a lovely backdrop. Rhys slowly turned to look at me, the expression on his face nearly identical to the one our son had given me literally moments ago.
Clearing his throat, Rhys pushed the sword back into Keaton’s eager hands. “Ah, I mean… These are outside toys. You know that. So, uh… Go outside. Go beat up your Uncle Benji.”
“Hey!” Archer cried, racing after Keaton. “Don’t beat up my dad!”
“Very smooth,” I told him once he’d closed the door behind them and come into the kitchen.
“Da!” Ryder cried out her favorite syllable, reaching for me with her chubby hands. “Da!”
“That’s right,” I said, straightening the hair bow I’d tied her blonde curls into.
I’d never forgotten being scolded at the baby clothes rack about the football onesie for Astrid, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to dress my daughter in frilly lace and ribbons.
At least until she started to object. “I’m Da. ”
“Hey, she could be talking to me,” Rhys reasoned, and I snorted.
“Maybe.”
“Rhys Kensington!” Mom called out from the living room, where she was organizing the massive table of gifts for Ryder.
There was almost forty people milling around, friends we’d made over the years, and people from town we’d become close with.
“Please tell me you do not have that baby over there staring down at her own birthday cake! You know that is supposed to be a surprise!”
“She’s literally one,” he retorted. “She barely has object permanence, let alone comprehending the concept of her own birthday.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes as she stomped her way over. “Give me this precious angel,” she commanded, scooping her up. Ryder only bubbled out a laugh as she was toted away. “And you and your father better not have had her breathing in all that smoke from that damn grill, either.”
“Yeah, Mom,” he replied flatly. “We let her flip a couple burgers, too.”
She gave him a dry, but exasperatedly affectionate look as she shook her head. She pulled me into a tight half-hug, giving me a loud smooch on the top of my hair. “The cake looks amazing, honey.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, squeezing her back.
“Astrid, come help me with these gifts.”
“Okay, Grandma.” She hopped off the stool and scurried off.
With the cake finished, I was done with all my last minute little tasks and could finally just relax and enjoy the party.
I let out a content sigh, sliding my hands up Rhys’ firm chest and raising to my toes so he could kiss me.
He leaned in, slipping his hands around my waist. My chest fluttered as he pulled me in closer, my lips tingling in anticipation.
We’d been married for nearly eight years, but sometimes I still felt like I was living in a dream.
A dream I’d conjured up as a lonely, lovesick teenager obsessed with the straight jock prom king quarterback.
But he’d proven over and over again that what we had was real.
He adored me as much as I adored him, as unbelievable as that seemed.
The moment his lips brushed mine, such light, teasing contact that I was ready to slip my fingers into his hair and pull his face closer, the patio door slid open again, letting in a blast of cool autumn air along with the sound of conversations and kids playing.
“Coach K! Run some drills with me! Rollouts and wrist flicks.”
Rhys let out a breath, slowly turning to face the teenage quarterback he was currently mentoring. We were friendly with his parents, and Astrid went to school with his little sister. Only in Cherryvale.
“Dolan, it’s Saturday. It’s my child’s birthday. Can you give it a rest?”
“No, Coach,” he said, with a level of intensity I’d started to realize was reserved for budding athletes. “You always tell us how important it is not to get complacent, and to make sure we’re getting in drills and workouts when we can.”
Wincing slightly, Rhys squeezed his eyes closed, slowly nodding. “Alright. Give me five minutes, at least.”
“Five minutes!” He repeated, clapping his hands together once. His eyes finally flicked over to me, dipping down to where Rhys’ hands were cupped around my waist. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, Mr. K. We only have two months until State Championships.”
“That’s okay, Dolan,” I said, trying not to show my amusement at his youthful passion. “Go Cardinals.”
He let out a rallying whoop before heading back outside.
Because I didn’t think I could stand another interruption before getting to lock lips with my unbearably handsome husband, I grabbed a handful of the front of his shirt, dragging him to the large walk-in pantry he’d built for me.
I clicked the door shut, closing us into a dark, quiet bubble of privacy among the chaos. Rhys cocked up a dark eyebrow, looking me up and down as I leaned into him.
“Feeling neglected, Sparkles?” He wondered, and I grinned up at him.
“Never. I just thought it might be easier to talk for a minute if we’re out of everyone’s direct line of sight.”
He chuckled, tilting his head in acknowledgment. “Probably.”
“And this,” I added, raising up to my toes again so I could snake my arms around his neck for a kiss. I purred, my lips parting just enough that he could slip the tip of his tongue in and tease me.
“Does this door lock?” He wondered, and I scoffed.
“You installed it! You should know it doesn’t.”
“Ah, yeah,” he remembered, wrinkling his nose in disdain for his past decision making. “I guess I wouldn’t have had a reason to put a lock on a pantry door.”
“Guess not.”
“That’s alright,” he mused, before hitching me up against his chest, tightly gripping my ass as he backed me into the door so no one could push it open. “Close enough.”
I chuckled, sliding my hands up over his broad shoulders to cup his jaw as I tightened my thighs around his waist. “My sexy problem solver.”
He kissed me harder this time, rolling his tongue against mine as his hips nudged me harder against the door.
Not that I would have ever complained about any of it, but the more demanding jobs and the kids definitely made spontaneous makeout sessions quite a bit harder to come by than they had been in the early days of our relationship.
Not to mention spontaneous sex. Or even non-spontaneous sex.
When we finally parted to breathe, I carded my fingers through his thick waves of messy hair, peppering quick kisses over his brow and temples, which were just barely starting to show signs of lightening with a bit of gray.
He wasn’t crazy about it, but I didn’t mind.
He was totally handsome and distinguished.
“You don’t really think I ruined the surprise for Ryder by showing her the cake, right?” He wondered, looking genuinely concerned.
I laughed, my abdominal muscles jerking against his as I shook my head. “No, baby. She’s one. She has no idea what’s going on.”
He let out a sigh of relief, pressing his face into my neck. “Thank god. I worried I was being a shitty dad for a second there.”
“You are an amazing dad. A wonderful husband. A kick-ass coach. You take care of all of us so perfectly. You’re like my real-life Superman.”
He let out a pleased little groan at my praise, nuzzling my throat. “How much time do we have again?”
“Not that much time.”
“Maybe my parents can take the kids tonight, after the party’s over,” he said, the barely-concealed excitement in his voice bringing a smug grin onto my face. “Mom’s always asking to keep them overnight more. And, you know, they’re right down the road if anything happens.”
“Well, we can certainly ask,” I responded lowly, tilting my head for another kiss.
Before his lips could touch mine, there was a crash from outside, followed by the sound of Ryder’s delighted shrieking, then the sound of several adult voices weighing in on the mess.
We froze, blinking at each other for a few moments before he cleared his throat.
“We’ll ask in a bit,” he decided, and I laughed, nodding.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked, my heart completely full of love and light and every good feeling the universe had to offer.
“Just a few times,” he confirmed. “But I don’t mind hearing it. Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“A few times,” I echoed him. “But I don’t mind hearing it either.”
“You sure you’re not getting sick of it?” He asked. “I’ve said it quite a lot over the years.”
“Why don’t you try testing it out?” I suggested.
“I love you, Kendall. You are the best part of my life, and I am so grateful for every day I get to wake up next to you.”
“Definitely not sick of it yet,” I promised. He chuckled, giving me one last kiss before lowering me to my feet so we could go out and take care of the beautiful little life we’d created for ourselves.