“Only one girl I want to swoon,” he said, dropping his chopsticks on the coffee table and tipping me back on the couch, propping himself above me.
“I’m already swooning, Winslow,” I said through a fit of giggles.
“You sure about that?”
“I’m positive,” I said, smiling up at him.
He lifted my arm and kissed the little music note tattoo on the inside of my wrist. “So, when can I propose?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not supposed to ask me, fool.”
“Why not? You live by rules. I don’t. I’d marry you today and put a few babies in you if you’d let me. But we both know you have a plan, and I just need you to give me the thumbs up when it’s fucking go-time.”
It was difficult to speak through my laughter. “Go time? Really? And put a few babies in me? Are you serious right now?”
He looked down at me, his honey browns dancing with mischief. “Dead. Fucking. Serious.”
“We just moved in together. I’m starting medical school, you’re getting your masters and teaching. Let’s just sit on this for a minute.” I tangled my fingers in his hair.
“Not really my style, but I’ll do it for you.”
“Okay.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “Thanks for coming to New York with me.”
“I’d go anywhere with you. Thanks for waiting for me to stop being a fuck up.”
“I’d wait for you forever,” I whispered.
His mouth came over mine, and he lifted me in his arms as he pushed to his feet and my legs wrapped around his waist. His lips never left mine as he walked me down the hall to our bedroom.
He dropped me on the bed, and I bounced on the new mattress. I scrambled over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. “I got something for you.”
“Is it a sex toy?”
I laughed. “No, you perv. It’s a book.”
He dropped down beside me on the bed and I handed it to him.
“Pride and Prejudice. Ah, a little Jane Austen. Does Mr. Darcy do it for you?” he rolled me on my back and settled above me.
“Cruz Winslow does it for me.” My voice came out all breathy and needy which made us both laugh.
“That’s what I like to hear, More Jade.”
He kissed my neck, and the book dropped onto the mattress beside us. His mouth came over mine before he pulled away and sat back on his heels and reached for the book.
“You want me to read to you now?” he asked, and I didn’t miss the heat in his eyes.
I grabbed the book and tossed it to the side. “Mr. Darcy can wait.”
“Is that so? Tell me what you need, baby,” he said, leaning over me again.
“More Cruz Winslow.”
He laughed. “Not a problem. I’m all yours.”
“And I’m all yours,” I whispered.
“Damn straight. Always have been, always will be.”
His mouth crashed into mine, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. I had everything I ever wanted, and I was looking forward to the future.
And starting our new life together.
And doing it all with Cruz Winslow.
Epilogue
Ten years later
Cruz
It was Halloween, and my girls were in the bathroom getting ready. Yeah, my wife was that mom. The kind of mom we all wished for. She’d been working on Winnie’s butterfly costume for weeks. Our little girl had a thing for butterflies, and Jade stayed up late last night to finish constructing the wings.
“Daddy, Daddy, look at me,” Winnie said, running toward me down the hall flapping her orange and black wings like she was about to take flight. “I’m a real butterfly.”
Winnie just might be the most curious three-year-old on the planet. The girl never stopped asking questions and repeating things we said. She was smart like her mama. Jade and I read to her all the time and took her to museums and on nature hikes—always pointing things out.
Winona Jaqueline Winslow was the light of our lives.
Jade and I got married while she was in her second year of med school. We had a small ceremony on Little Gasparilla Island and flew our closest friends and family out to celebrate with us. Jade had matched for her residency program at the University of Chicago, which brought us back home. After a clerkship in pediatric neurology, my wife had discovered her calling. We found out she was pregnant with Winnie during her third year of residency. I’d landed a teaching gig at the same university, where I now taught both art history and musical composition. Between my mom who now lived in the city full-time and Jade’s father and his wife Sara, everyone stepped up to help out with Winnie.
“I didn’t even know it was you. I thought a real butterfly had flown in the house,” I said, bending down to meet my baby girl’s jade green gaze. Light brown curls trailed down her back, and her tiny little hand reached up and cupped my cheek.
“It’s me, Daddy. It’s Winnie,” she said, her eyes searching mine to make sure I understood.
“I can’t believe it’s you. You’re the prettiest butterfly I’ve ever seen.”
“Mama says that butterflies start out as canter-pills before they shed their skin. Did you know that, Daddy?” she asked, and I swear to Christ my chest exploded every time this little girl looked at me like that. Her brows cinched just like her mother’s always did, as she concentrated on what she was saying.
“Yep, they’re caterpillars first. They shed their skin and turn into beautiful butterflies.”
“When I was a baby, did I shed my skin before I turned into a big girl?” She scrunched her little nose, as she thought this over, before pinching the skin on her forearm. “No, Daddy. This is the same skin as I always had. I remember it.”
“Because you were born a beautiful butterfly, Winnie. You never had to shed your skin,” I said, pushing to stand when the doorbell rang.
“’Cause I’m your special girl, right Daddy?”
“You know it,” I said, opening the door of our Evanston home.
“Where is she?” Jade’s father, Jack and his wife Sara hurried inside, anxious to see Winnie all dressed up.
Halloween wasn’t what it used to be for Jack and Jade, not since Winnie had come into the world. It was no longer a day of mourning, but a day of celebration and fun. Winnie ran to the door, flapping her wings. Her tulle skirt fluttering all around her.