“If you’ll excuse us?” Easton says to Amber and Flint as carries me toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. “I have to take care of my future wife.”
Epilogue
EMMA
A year almost to the day that I met Easton, we hang the very last piece of backsplash in the kitchen. “Are we really done?” I ask him, my voice quiet because I’m afraid we’ve forgotten at least one or two small projects. I don’t want to celebrate too soon.
“We’re done, babe.” We’ve spent every free day and most evenings working on some piece of our home together. Sanding, painting, tiling, measuring—you know name it. I’ve learned so much from my husband that I might be up for buying another property down the road and flipping it with him. One we could use as a rental. “Our forever home is finished.”
Such loves fills Easton’s eyes as he looks at my swollen belly.
“Done just in time for our daughter to arrive.” Easton drops his lips to mine and kisses me sensually. It leaves me panting. Wanting. I lace my fingers through his.
“Why don’t we celebrate properly?” I tug him toward the bedroom.
“Well, the doctor did say—”
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