Epilogue 1-Micah
Late summer looks good on Jersey Iron Ranch.
The hay's been cut.
The bulls are fat and healthy.
The cryo system hasn't so much as hiccupped in over two months.
And my cabin...
Well.
It finally feels like a home.
Not because I built it.
Because she's in it.
Sloane officially moved in weeks ago.
It wasn't exactly planned.
One day there were a couple of overnight bags.
Then a few boxes. Then somehow every cabinet had her dishes in it, my closet mysteriously lost half its space, and there were flowers in the kitchen window.
I don't know how women do that.
Turn a house into a home.
But she did.
Hell, she's even got me picking out antique fabric for Bit to sew cases for throw pillows.
Don't tell Benji. I'd never hear the end of it.
Not that those assholes have much room to talk.
Sawyer follows Bit around like she's carrying the Crown Jewels instead of a baby.
Though if you ask him...
She probably is.
Bit's well into her second trimester now, and I've never seen Sawyer smile so much in my life.
It's damn unsettling.
Benji isn't any better.
Esme announced a few weeks ago that she's pregnant too.
The idiot actually cried.
Full-on tears.
Then he denied it when we called him on it.
Claimed he had dust in his eye.
Good thing my surveillance cameras picked it up, and yes, I might have turned that little video clip into a gif.
I plan on sending it to Esme for Christmas. A sort of present for her viewers.
Moron deserves it.
Now, all three women have become thick as thieves.
Best friends.
Angie, Sawyer’s housekeeper, is very much like their doting surrogate mother. I know Sloane adores her.
But I don't know exactly when it happened.
One minute they were having coffee together. The next they're texting all day, shopping together, and conspiring about God knows what.
I'm pretty sure that spells trouble.
For Sawyer, Benji, and me, mostly. Diego is old enough to know better. And Alex doesn't seem to mind.
In fact, the kid follows them around like an eager puppy.
Need groceries?
Alex's already loading the truck.
Need something off the top shelf?
Alex's got it.
Need ice cream at nine o'clock at night because Bit suddenly decided she absolutely has to have mint chocolate chip?
He's halfway to town before anyone finishes asking.
Smart kid.
He knows which side of history to stand on.
Angie laughs every time she sees him.
“Soon he'll be bringing babies bottles too.”
Probably.
Diego just shakes his head and says the ranch finally feels alive again.
I think he's right.
Thursday nights have become something of a tradition around here.
Nobody planned it.
It just...
Happened.
Someone grills.
Someone else brings dessert.
Kids from neighboring ranches run around chasing fireflies. The dogs steal scraps whenever they think Angie isn't looking.
Everybody talks over everybody else.
It's loud.
Messy.
Perfect.
Angie says it reminds her of Sundays growing up in Mexico.
Big family.
Too much food.
Not enough chairs.
Nobody caring about any of that.
Tonight is one of those nights.
Sawyer's handling steaks.
Benji brought homemade peach cobbler because apparently Esme wanted peaches, so naturally everyone gets peaches.
Bit made potato salad.
Angie roasted corn.
And Sloane...
Jesus.
My woman has been tending a brisket since before sunrise.
She disappeared into the smokehouse every hour to check it like it was a newborn baby.
Watching her learn barbecue has been almost as entertaining as watching her fall in love with ranch life.
She takes everything seriously.
Researches.
Practices.
Perfects it.
Kind of reminds me of someone.
The restaurant renovation is almost finished.
Watching that dream take shape has been one of the greatest privileges of my life.
The Watering Hole is gone.
In its place stands something entirely hers so naturally I suggested she rename it.
And my good girl listened.
Sloane’s BBQ.
Warm.
Welcoming.
Family friendly.
Smoked meats.
Craft beer.
Closes at ten.
Just like she dreamed.
She still doesn't know I picked up the keys yesterday.
The contractors finished early.
Tonight, I'm giving them to her.
But that's not the only surprise.
My hand slips into my jeans pocket.
The little velvet box is still there.
I've checked at least twelve times today.
Probably thirteen.
Inside sits the prettiest sapphire I've ever seen.
Deep blue.
Rich enough to swallow the light.
It’s the exact shade of the midnight sky through the skylight I installed over our bed.
Most nights, after we've crawled beneath the covers, she'll lie there with her head on my chest, staring up through the glass while the stars blink to life one by one.
She says the sky reminds her of me.
Quiet.
Steady.
Always there.
But I think she's got it backward.
The night sky reminds me of her.
Endless.
Beautiful.
The kind of thing a man could spend the rest of his life looking at and still discover something new every night.
The sapphire rests in an antique platinum setting surrounded by tiny diamonds, each one catching the light like stars scattered around a midnight sky.
The second I saw it tucked away in that dusty little antique shop, I knew.
It wasn't just a ring.
It was hers.
Timeless.
Perfect.
Just like her.
The old woman behind the counter of that dusty little antique shop three towns over told me it had been waiting a long time for the right person.
Guess she was right.
Because the second I saw it...
I saw Sloane.
Now, I don't know if she wants children.
We've talked around it.
Never directly.
Honestly? I'm okay either way.
Kids.
No kids.
Dogs.
Horses.
Fennec foxes.
Growing old arguing over what to watch on television.
None of that matters.
All I need...
Is her.
The screen door creaks open behind me.
I don't have to turn around.
I know those footsteps.
Know the rhythm of them.
Know the scent of smoke and barbecue drifting ahead of her.
Strong arms slide around my waist.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
I cover her hands with mine.
“You.”
She laughs softly.
“Liar.”
“No.”
I turn in her embrace.
She's got a smudge of barbecue sauce on one cheek.
I kiss it.
“Definitely you.”
She wrinkles her nose.
“I've been tending that brisket for ten hours.”
“I know.”
“I smell like hickory smoke.”
“You do.”
“That's probably not attractive.”
I stare at her.
Really stare.
At the freckles scattered across her nose.
The warm brown eyes smiling back at me. The soft curves she's finally stopped trying to hide. The confidence that's slowly replacing years of doubt.
She catches me looking.
“What?”
“You're beautiful. And brisket is my favorite meal. So to me, you’re an eleven out of ten tonight, Princess.”
She giggles and blushes.
Just like I want her to.
After all these months, she still blushes for me.
“I love you,” she whispers.
The words hit me just as hard now as they did the first time.
“I love you too.”
She rests her forehead against mine.
“Dinner's almost ready.”
“Good.”
“You sound nervous.”
“I am.”
She pulls back just enough to study my face.
“Everything okay?”
I smile.
More than okay.
I slip my hand into my pocket one more time, my fingers brushing the velvet box.
Tonight.
I'm going to hand her the keys to the restaurant she dreamed into existence.
Then...
I'm going to ask the only question that has ever really mattered.
Not because I need an answer to know how I feel.
I've known that since the first time she smiled at me across that bar.
No.
I'm asking because I want the rest of my life to start tonight.
I just hope to fuck that she says yes.