Driving away from her is torture, and the last thing I want to do… but I have a few things I need to deal with in the next twenty-four hours.
The next morning I call my kids over to the house. They show up, no questions asked, with their spouses. It’s still crazy to think of them as all grown up, but they are.
And I’m grateful they are easily bribed with a box of donuts and coffee.
“What’s this about, Dad?” Billy asks. His wife Bailey is here too, and they both look worried.
Kourtney though, is onto me. “Is this about your date last night?” Her husband Kaden hands her a mug of coffee and slips his hand around her waist. I’m so glad my daughter found a man who cherishes her the way she deserves. Apparently I’m getting all sentimental this morning.
“Are you crying?” Bailey asks, her eyes widening.
I blink back the tears and tell the kids to take a seat. With our donuts and coffee, I explain the situation. “Look, I know it’s sudden, but I’m asking Lucia to marry me.”
“Wait, who?” Billy asks.
“Lucia, Matt’s sister.” Kourtney exhales. “Dad, are you serious, you want to marry her? You just met her.”
Billy smirks. “Did Dad give you a hard time when you married the guy you met over taco trivia?”
“It wasn’t trivia about tacos,” she snaps. “It was tacos and trivia.”
“I feel like this is getting off topic,” Billy interjects. “Who is she?”
Kaden breaks an old-fashioned donut in two, dunking a piece in his coffee. “She works at Nettle Bank Farm, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, but not too much longer. I know she wants a family and—”
“Wait.” Kourtney’s eye bug out. “Did you already propose?”
“No, I wanted to talk to you guys first. I know it’s a big deal. Mom’s been gone a few years and it might feel sudden to spring this on you but—”
“You love her?” Bailey asks. Her hand is wrapped around a mug, the diamond ring on her finger my first wife’s.
“So much. I know you four understand better than most people. When you know, you know. I know.”
“Wow,” Billy says, shaking his head. “When can we meet this woman?”
“Hardly a woman. She’s my age,” Kourtney says, clearly not warming up to the idea the way her brother has.
“You’re enough of a woman to know what you want,” Kaden pushes gently. “Maybe Lucia and Logan do too.”
Kourtney laughs, shaking her head. “Fair enough. Sorry, Dad. You’re right. I trust you to know what you want.”
“You really want more kids?” Bailey asks. “Most people seem happy when their kids are all grown, happy to put the diaper years behind them.”
“I started young. Eve and I, we had Kourtney when we were eighteen. The idea of more kids now doesn’t scare me. It excites me. Family is everything.”
“Well what are you waiting for, Pops?” Billy asks. “Go ask the girl to marry you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lucia
I’ve just finished my chores, and I’m filthy dirty from the garden. My hands need to be scrubbed, not to mention I need to cool off. The late August sun was relentless today. But first, I need to eat something.
Stripping off my jeans and tank top, I open the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of icy white wine. I pour myself a glass, then I pop open a jar of my pickles and take a bite of the crunchy sweetness.
There’s a knock on the door as I’m groaning in pleasure. God, these taste so good. I push the curtains over, looking through the door, surprised to see Logan there.
I pull open the door, not expecting him for another hour. “Am I missing the fun?” he asks with a smile. “All the moaning in here made me wonder.”
I laugh, offering him my jar of pickles. “Not quite orgasmic,” I say, “but still pretty tasty.”
He takes the jar and plucks one and eats it. With a moan, he takes another. “Okay, this puts the bread in my butter.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I agree.” I smile, pointing to the wine. “Want some?” He nods and I turn my back to him and pour him a glass at the counter. “So is there a reason you came by early? I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just I have to shower still.”
“I should have called. I didn’t want to wait.”
“Wait for what?” I ask, turning to face him.
But I have to look down. Because Logan Barton is on one knee.
A black velvet box is open in his hand, and a gorgeous diamond ring is perched inside. My heart flip-flops and tears fill my eyes.
“Oh God.”
“A good oh God, or a bad one?” He lifts his eyebrow.
“A good one.” I set the wine on the table and get down on my knees, meeting him face-on.
“Marry me, Lucia, let me knock you up half a dozen times. Let me build you a farmhouse, a big one, with a wide porch. Let me put a swing in the oak tree and push you at dusk. Give me a reason to get up in the morning that’s about more than corporate meetings. Be my wife, my lover, my heart.”
“Oh Logan,” I say. “You mean it?”
He takes my hand and slips the ring on my dirty ring finger and tears flood my eyes, my heart brimming with happiness. “I’m a man of my word. And I love you. Do me the honor of being my wife? Be my butter half.”
I fling my arms around him. “God, I’m a mess,” I say. “I was in the garden all afternoon and—”
“Then come on, baby. Let’s clean you up.”
Logan pulls me from the floor and picks me up. I wrap my legs around him, and he squeezes my ass, carrying me to the bathroom. “In our farmhouse, we’re gonna make an extra big bathroom, you know that, right? I’m thinking a double shower, jacuzzi tub.”
“I’ll need a big bathroom to hide in when the kids drive me crazy,” I say, laughing at the insanity of it all. The magic of it all.
Kismet.
Epilogue 1
Logan
One year later…
I’ve been in the yard all morning mowing. When I walk toward the farmhouse, with my shirt sleeves rolled up and wiping the sweat from my brow, my singular mission is jumping in the shower to clean up.
But I’m interrupted by the best sight in the whole damn world. My wife, Lucia, rocking our daughter Lauralie to sleep on the front porch swing. She’s singing our girl a lullaby and her voice melts me, heart and soul. All of her does though. I love my wife more than life itself.
“There room for one more?” I ask her. She smiles, moving aside a blanket so I can sit. “Don’t want to wake her.”
“Oh, she’s out cold,” Lucia says. “I’m gonna put her down in her crib, I think she will nap for a few hours.”
“Newborns are the best sleepers,” I say, remembering Kourtney and Billy when they were babies. God, time flies. I make a promise to myself for the thousandth time not to take a second of it for granted. Life has very few guarantees. But the ones I get, I won’t let slip by without notice.