EPILOGUE
Bryce
Seven Years Later
Am I supposed to be okay right now?
It’s the first of September and I’m walking hand in hand with my baby girl up the steps of the elementary school to drop her off for her first day of kindergarten. Leanne is ahead of us, being hauled up the steps by Lily in her purple dress covered in butterflies.
Beside me, Jane Bryce Butler flounces along in a pair of jeans and a green flowy top—one we had to force her into instead of the ratty T-shirt she wanted to wear—and her cowboy boots.
She’s my rough and tumble girl who’s always getting into scrapes and doesn’t care about a little dirt under her fingernails.
Lily, according to Kimberly at least, is just like Leanne was as a kid—more cautious, less wild.
They’re completely different, and yet a perfect pair… Kind of like me and their mom.
“Come on, Jane,” Lily shouts over her shoulder from the top of the stairs. She’s excited to get to her second-grade class and see all her friends, but she was determined to be with Jane when we dropped her off.
“I’m coming!” Jane hollers and begins tugging my hand until we all meet at the main doors.
The sisters join hands, unceremoniously leaving Leanne and me in their dust as they head into the school.
In silence, I lace my fingers with Leanne’s and pull them up to graze my lips over her skin.
She’s trying to hold it together, but I know she’s as internally wrecked as I am at the prospect of both our girls being in school full-time.
We follow them down the long hallway. Lily’s dark hair sways along her back in waves—she’s my miniature, down to the dark chocolate coloring of her eyes. But Jane is all Leanne, with hazel eyes and blonde hair that’s always tangled, hence the pigtail braids she’s sporting today.
When we reach Ms. Ness’s classroom, Lily is already helping Jane hang up her backpack—the epitome of eldest daughter responsibility.
But Jane quickly breaks away from her, offering Leanne and me a wave over her shoulder before she’s off like a shot toward the far corner of the room where her friend Joey is playing with some blocks.
“Wow, I feel a little like chopped liver,” Leanne mutters, recognizing we aren’t going to get so much as a goodbye hug from our independent daughter.
“Same,” I whisper back.
That’s when Lily collides with us both, wrapping her arms around our waists. “Love you. See you later.” And then she’s gone too, skipping down the hall to where her friends are waiting for her in their classroom.
“Hey, at least we got one hug,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of Leanne’s head and leading her out of the classroom.
We both look back for one more glimpse of Jane, who’s completely oblivious to her overemotional parents.
It’s how it should be. It’s not like I want her to be miserable on her first day of school, sad to be away from us… but she could’ve spared us a hug at least. Right?
Back at the car, I settle behind the wheel and glance in the rearview mirror, still expecting to see Jane sitting in her booster seat.
Not having her in the car everywhere I go is going to take some getting used to.
The transition with Lily felt easier because we still had Jane at home, but now with both of them in school… I don’t know how to feel.
“Are you crying?” Leanne asks from her place in the passenger seat, an admonishing laugh escaping her lips.
I swipe under my eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “Like you can talk. Look how red your eyes are!” I reply.
“Shut up. I’m supposed to cry, I’m her mom,” she says, dashing a stray tear away from her cheek.
“I see you’re still just as sexist as the day we met,” I snark, my dark beard twitching with the smile I’m trying to hide. There’s a lot more grey interspersed in it now than there used to be.
She shoves my shoulder. “Asshole.”
Who knew someone could call me names with so much love, but Leanne has sure figured out how to do it.
I grab her hand and bring it to my lips.
“You love me,” I croon.
When I settle our hands on the center console, Leanne uses a finger to trace my tattoos up my forearm. “I do,” she says without even a hint of sarcasm.
Her touch is as electric now as it was eight years ago. When she gets to the line of barbed wire above my hand, she stops on the fresher ink there. Ink depicting two monarch butterflies I had etched into my skin to represent my two daughters.
I smile at the tattoo and then at my wife, whose glittering wedding band shines in the morning sun. “So… We could go back to the ranch and prep for the wedding this weekend…” I say with raised eyebrows.
We could do that… and probably should. Now that Leanne and I work together to run events at the ranch, our business has only grown.
After her maternity leave, she went back to work at Latitude 45 for about a year, but it was exactly as difficult as she thought it would be.
Commuting, figuring out childcare when our event schedules conflicted—though both sets of parents were always more than willing to help—and always wanting more time together led us to the decision that was best for us and our family.
It was a good thing too, because not a week after she gave notice, we found out she was pregnant with Jane.
But Leanne brought in her contacts and expertise in corporate events and has expanded the events at the ranch to include more business retreats and team building opportunities.
But it’s still the weddings that make up most of the summer and fall.
And the one this weekend is going to be a doozy—the bride may be worse than Leanne ever was.
Thank goodness she’s taking point on this one.
“Or?” she says, clearly seeing the mischief in my eyes.
“Or we can go home and… enjoy the quiet…” I say, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. Then I run my fingers along the curve of her shoulder and up her neck until they wrap around it.
“Oh yeah, you think so, huh? I’m not sure it will be quiet for long if we do that.” She bites her lip and glances at my crotch. Just thinking of having her all to myself for a few hours has me thickening in my jeans.
“Fuck, I hope not. It’s been ages since you’ve been able to properly scream my name, blondie.”
I throw the truck in reverse as she throws her head back on a laugh—her blonde hair bouncing in the high ponytail she pulled it into this morning—and I do my best not to speed all the way home while I imagine wrapping it around my fist.
I never imagined, in the afterglow of our first night together, that we’d end up here.
That the woman who drove me crazy would become my sanity. That the woman who found me where I was, living by the motions, would bring me back to life with her fire and her sass, and that she would give me the greatest gifts I ever could’ve asked for.
She gave me her love and her trust, and she gave me Lily and Jane.