“Christ, Shiloh,” he said tightly. “I thought having you back would be the best thing that could ever happen to me. But seeing him…” He heaved a shaky sigh. “I had no idea I could feel like this.”
“Like…happy?”
“So fucking happy, it doesn’t feel real.”
A little sob erupted from my throat, and Ronan’s arms went around me and pulled me in, letting me feel the solidity and permanence of him for the first time. I sagged in relief, so strong, it left me weak while the purest joy rushed in. I clung to him, my Ronan, who gave everything and asked for nothing in return. Who’d lived his entire life in an empty void so that he didn’t trust the love that was his or believe he deserved it.
He kissed me then, the sweetest, best kiss of my life. The kiss that sealed our promises and tears that washed three years away and let us start again.
“Come on,” I said, tugging him to his feet. “You need to meet your son properly.”
“You keep saying those words, and my fucking heart explodes.”
“Wait until he calls you Daddy for the first time.”
“Christ…”
We stepped back inside the house. Bibi was bustling around the kitchen. Mama sat with August on her lap on the floor, the two of them going through a huge picture book.
“Is that them?” Bibi called, sounding nervous. “Are they back?”
“We’re back,” I said.
“Hey, Bibi. Marie,” Ronan said in a low voice.
“Hello, honey,” Bibi said, shuffling into the dining area. Her hands twisted in front of her like she didn’t know what to do with herself, and I realized she’d been waiting for this day just as much as I had been. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. How are you doing? Big day, isn’t it?”
He nodded, his gaze glued to August. “Yeah,” he said faintly. “The biggest.”
“I believe I’m in your spot, Ronan,” Mama said with a smile. She set August down and stood up, giving Ronan’s hand a short squeeze.
Ronan sat on the floor with August and me, still looking a little shell-shocked.
“He’s all you,” he said.
“Not all me,” I said. “He’s got a lot of you in him.”
August studied Ronan with his big brown eyes, solemnly. “Mama, who dat?”
“Do you remember how I said your daddy had to be away for a long time?”
He nodded.
“Well, he’s home now. What do you think of that?”
August considered this. “Daddy home now,” he said, more curious than wary.
“I’ll stay somewhere else,” Ronan said to me. “Take it slow.”
I hated the thought, but he was right. And the fact that Ronan was already doing right by his son…
My poor heart isn’t going to make it through this day.
Ronan cleared his throat and picked up the picture book. “You reading this book? Hey, that’s a lot of trucks.”
August studied his father for a moment more, and then my heart nearly burst when he toddled over to him and situated himself on his lap.
From the couch, Mama clapped a hand to her mouth.
“Truck!” August said, pointing at a yellow dump truck on a page of trains, cars, and construction vehicles.
“And what’s this?” Ronan asked, his finger on a freight train.
“Train!” August said. “Dis a firetruck,” he said, pointing. “An’ dis right here, dis a race car.”
“Sure is.” Ronan looked at me, his eyes full. “Smart kid.”
They finished the picture book and moved on to a book about a grouchy caterpillar, and then Bibi announced from the kitchen that it was dinner time. The scents of beef stroganoff and warm bread filled the house.
“You ready for dinner, little man?” I asked.
August nodded and held his arms up for me. I picked him up as Ronan got to his feet, and the three of us stood for a moment together. August’s chubby fist wrapped around a handful of my braids, his large eyes still on Ronan. Then he put his hand on Ronan’s cheek.
“Dis my daddy,” he said like a proclamation.
Ronan and I looked at each other.
“Now it’s official.” I smiled through tears. “Guess you’re stuck with us.”
“Guess I am,” he said and smiled back—the real, genuine smile I’d been waiting years to see. So beautiful. So much him…
“You’re staying for dinner, right, Ronan?” Bibi asked, then snorted and muttered to herself. “What am I saying? Of course he is.”
“Stay,” I whispered. “For always.”
He leaned in and kissed me softly. “For always.”
I closed my eyes, letting the bliss wash over me, filling in all my broken pieces, making me whole.
We moved to the dining room and Ronan went to Bibi.
“I didn’t get a chance to say hello,” he said, his voice thick.
“You were a little busy getting acquainted,” she replied. “Oh, honey…”
I watched as he bent his tall, powerful frame to hug her. I watched how she closed her eyes against his shoulder, holding him tight. And how she seemed bigger than him somehow—his shelter from the storm, like she’d been for me my entire life.
My battered heart rejoiced and finally knew peace because my beautiful man, who’d been lost and cut adrift, was safe at last.
“My darling boy.” Bibi took his face in his hands and kissed his cheek. “Welcome home.”
Epilogue
I
Six months later…
“You’re going to wake our boy,” Ronan whispered into my ear.
We were on our knees on the bed, my back to his chest, his mouth hot against my neck, while his powerful body rocked against me and inside me. One of his hands was clamped over my breast, the other between my legs as he took me from behind, the angle hitting that spot in me that made me see stars. Outside, rain pelted the window and the wind whistled in a late November storm.
I whimpered, Ronan’s thrusting cock, his hands, his mouth—all working to undo me.
“I…I’m going to…”
“Give it to me,” Ronan growled, and I obeyed, craning over my shoulder to find his mouth. He kissed me hard and hot as my orgasm crested and crashed. I cried out and he drank it down, holding me into his kiss, muffling my sounds when I could’ve screamed at how good he made me feel. Every. Time.
He grunted, and I felt his own release shudder through him as he came deep inside me. He sank back, and I sank with him on his lap. We stayed there for long moments, catching our breaths, his arms wrapped around me. I felt as if I were melting into the sweat-slicked heat of his body, into him.
I could stay here forever…
Then Ronan nuzzled my neck, nipped my ear, and his hands began exploring and caressing…
“Are you kidding me?” I laughed. “I nearly lost count, but I think that was number four. How are you ready again?”
“Four is nothing,” he said, grazing his teeth along my skin. “Five is okay, but six is a number to be proud of.”