Page 166 of Playbook Breakaway

Her eyes shine again, but this time there’s no panic in them. Just emotion.

“I love you,” she says simply.

“Good,” I whisper, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. “Because I’m crazy about you, and it would be awkward if that was one-sided after all this time.”

We fall silent again.

I sip my hot chocolate, then drop a kiss on the top of her head. “So what’s next, KitKat?”

She tilts her face up to me. “Next?”

“We’ve got Christmas in Whitefish,” I say. “Dad’s walking. You’ve got a call from that woman who wants to remodel that old theater with the other Kauffman brother’s money. I’ve only got one and a half more years on my contract with the Hawkeyes.” I shrug. “Feels like we should plan something fun. A trip. A goal. A new way to shock your grandmother.”

She hums, considering. “We could give her another great-grandchild.”

My brain short-circuits for a second. “Wait. Are you serious?”

“Maybe. I like the idea of another little Easton. A sibling for Roman. Maybe one with my terrible feet and your terrible sense of humor.”

“Hey,” I protest, but my heart is already doing cartwheels. “My sense of humor is excellent, thank you.”

She smiles. “It’s why I married you. That and the honky-tonk dancing.”

“I knew it,” I groan.

She laughs and kisses my jaw. “We don’t have to decide now,” she says. “I was just thinking… this life feels big enough for more. That’s all.”

I look back through the window at the darkened house. In the shadow of my dad’s cane by the door. At the faint nightlight glow from the room my son is sleeping in.

“You’re right,” I say quietly. “Katerina?”

“Yeah?” she asks.

I smile down at her. “You’re the best bet I ever made.”

She lifts up, kisses me slow, deeply, like we have all the time in the world.

Snow falls around us, soft and steady.

Inside, my family sleeps.

Out here, with my wife in my arms and my future stretching out in front of us, I know one thing with more certainty than I’ve ever known anything:

I’d lose that bet again.

Any day.