BONUS EPILOGUE — CUT SCENE

TESS

I never thought cooking dinner with someone could be so hot. And not just because Ian likes his food spicy.

Working together in my kitchen, we’re constantly nudging arms and brushing hands. There’s no escaping him being right here with me. It’s a rush, even if slightly awkward for all the unnecessary blushing I’m doing.

I can blame the hot stove, right?

“You’re a really good cook.” Despite my initial assessment of his cave man dinner menu.

“It was part of my job as a guide. I had to cook for everyone out on the trail with me.”

“Really? I always imagined they ate dehydrated meals out there.”

“Some are. Most of the menu was more like this.” He gestures with his spatula at the chicken and vegetable stir fry he’s making. “The hardest part was working with celebrities who had very specific meal requests.”

“You took celebrities on hikes?” I’ve never heard this.

“Sometimes. It wasn’t how it sounds.”

“Right. So hiking with celebrities was pretty boring and uneventful.”

He side-eyes me, and I catch half his grin. “The most mundane.”

August’s cries startle us. Ian turns off the stove and we rush into the backyard where August is limping across the grass, tears streaming. Dutch trots at his side, tail still, as if he knows something’s wrong with his pal.

“What happened, buddy?” I help August into a patio chair.

“I fell in the grass and scraped my knee.” He runs his hand beneath his nose, wiping away tears and snot. “Right here.”

He shows us his bare knee below his shorts. The tiniest drop of blood seeps from a grass stain there. As confident as he is with his diabetes care, any blood he didn’t intend to see is a catastrophe.

“Want a bandage?” I ask.

He nods.

“I’m on it.” Ian goes inside to bring back my first aid kit.

I rummage around in it until I find a bandage printed with his favorite cartoon firefighting dogs. “This one?”

He nods again. I dab a little antiseptic ointment on the bandage and secure it over his knee.

“Better?” I ask.

“Kiss, please.” His tears are gone, but we have a specific routine.

I press a light kiss to his bandage and make a smacking sound. “All gone.”

“Thanks, Mama.” He stands up and seems to test out his leg as if he’s uncertain it will hold his weight. Miraculously, it does. He takes off into the yard, Dutch right behind him, both back in playful mode.

Ian lifts his eyebrows. “Fast recovery.”

I grab the first aid kit and take it inside. “They usually are. He just needs a bit of attention.”

Some parenting books might disagree with my methods, but I’m not going overboard. I’m just letting him know I’m here for him when he needs me.

I move to finish preparing our dinner, but Ian cuts in front of me. He leans against the kitchen counter, eyes stuck on me.

“Kiss, please.”

My stomach swoops. “I didn’t realize you injured yourself.”

His mouth quirks. “Maybe I just need a bit of attention.”

“Unsurprising.” We watch each other for a minute, and I get the sense he’s daring me to indulge.

“I took care of your injury,” he says.

“You didn’t kiss it better.”

“A mistake I won’t make again.”

I cut my eyes to the back door, but August is fully occupied with Dutch. “Where does it hurt?”

His eyes are full of mischief as he points to his forehead.

I lean up on tiptoes and kiss him there, my heart racing the whole way. “Better?”

“And here.” He points to his left cheek.

I press a kiss right above his beard.

“And here.” He points to his right.

I follow along, barely moving a breath away from his face.

“Here.” He touches the tip of his nose.

I press the briefest kiss to it.

He can’t contain his smirk as he points to his mouth. “This part’s very needy.”

I lean closer until my lips are practically on his. “This is purely for medicinal purposes,” I whisper.

“You’re saving my life.”

My lips touch his, feather light. He responds similarly, the slightest pressure of his mouth. It’s too little, really, and somehow that sets me on fire as much as his full-blown kisses. I just love every way he kisses me, everywhere.

But since this one is for a fake injury, I break the kiss. He slips one arm around my waist, holding me in place.

“Still wounded,” he whispers against my mouth.

My lips curve into a smile against his. “Sounds grave.”

“I require constant care.”

“I’ve noticed.”

But I go on kissing him until the timer rings for dinner.

*****

BONUS EPILOGUE

IAN

“Do you think she’ll like this one, Papa?” August holds the small, orange lovey up to me with his free hand, his other clinging to mine. The toy has a fox head with a blanket for a body, and it’s the softest thing I’ve ever touched.

Hope helped him pick it out at The Painted Daisy before we came over here. He didn’t want to come here empty-handed.

“I think it’s perfect, buddy.”

He smiles at it. “I think so, too.”

We walk through the sliding doors in the birthing center and get our visitor tags from the front desk attendant. August puffs his chest out as she passes him his sticker, his eyes begging her to read his shirt. Thankfully, she does.

“‘Big brother,’” she reads. “Are you meeting someone special today?”

He nods. “My baby sister just got here.”

“Congratulations to you both.”

My chest might puff out as much as August’s.

We take the elevator to the second floor, August getting antsier by the minute. He’s spent the last two days with Maureen and Daniel, waiting for this moment to arrive, and now he’s about to burst.

“We need to be calm,” I remind him. “She’s very small.”

The smallest. So unbelievably tiny. And so very perfect.

“I’ll be calm,” he whispers.

We reach Tess’s door, and I gently knock before pushing it open.

My angel turns to greet us with a brilliant smile, our baby cradled in her arms. Tess was an absolute champ delivering her. I hated seeing her in so much pain for so long, but from the look on her face now, she’s already forgotten it.

“Oh, Mama,” August whispers even more softly than before. He tiptoes closer, not making a sound.

“She just had lunch, so she’s sleepy.” Tess angles the baby closer. “Meet your sister, Matilda.”

“She has red hair!” he whispers.

“She does, indeed.” It’s not much yet, but she has a dusting of soft, pale red hair. Her eyes are shut tight, one little fist against her mouth. I think I could stare at her for days.

“Come around and sit with me,” Tess says. August circles to the other side of the bed and climbs up next to her. Tess helps arrange Matilda in his arms. “What do you think of her?”

“I love her.” He kisses her forehead. In absolutely perfect timing, a gurgling sound erupts as she fills her tiny pants. August wrinkles his nose as the smell hits him. He turns his face away. “I’m glad she has her own room.”

I gently take her from him so I can clean her up on the changing table. Her eyes open, a little scowl forming between her eyebrows as I rudely expose her nether regions to the air. I get her fresh and clean and zip her tiny onesie back up.

I press a kiss to her itty bitty nose. “Perfect.”

Returning her to August’s arms, I take up the sliver of space on Tess’s other side. Matilda looks up at her brother, blinking hard as her sweet little brain processes the new sight. I wrap my arms around all three of them.

This is my whole world right here. My gorgeous wife, my son—I adopted August as soon as Tess and I were married—and now my daughter. I never imagined I could hold this much joy.

Tess angles her head to look up at me. I press a kiss to her soft mouth.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

“I’m thinking I’ll never stop thanking Amy for moving you in next to me.”

She smirks up at me. “You did not want us living next door.”

“You quickly taught me how wrong I was.” About pretty much everything.

“I love you, Ian.”

“I love you, my angel.”