Page 36 of Found in Wild Sage

We’re sitting on lounge chairs set on the stone-paved patio that faces the back of the yard and beyond it, the mountains that rise over Juniper View. When we drove here, I kept thinking we’d reached the pinnacle, but the farther up you go, the farther the mountains do, too.

“I can see why. It’s an incredible view.”

“I putter around in the garden, too. Keeps me busy for half the year, at least.” He shrugs like it’s a frivolous hobby and not demonstrably another skill. Every pot teems with happy blooms, and a raised bed to the right just past a large tree looks absolutely bursting with healthy plants.

I’m no farmer, but I don’t need to be to know Declan’s got a green thumb.

I stifle an audible groan when I taste the ice cream because good grief, it’s so much better than store-bought, and that raspberry sauce makes me want to kiss him.

Not that I need raspberry sauce to do that.

“Do you think you and Charlie could be comfortable here?”

This makes me swallow the bite I took whole. I gulp it down, eyes blinking rapidly at him. Thank goodness no brain freeze settled in.

“I know we haven’t discussed it, but I think we’ll need to move in together or people won’t believe we’re actually married.”

Idiot. How had I not thought of this? I mean yes, I was sitting here mooning over the house like it’d be a cozy room for three, but I didn’t actually think about the fact that married people live together because of course they do, you idiot!

“I—I hadn’t thought of that.” It sounds even more pathetic out loud.

“Did you have something else in mind?”

I’m already shaking my head. “No. But oh my gosh, I feel so stupid. And you can’t possibly want us invading your whole life. I mean, Declan, this is too much. It’s not just on paper.” I abandon my ice cream and shoot to my feet. “Your family is throwing us a wedding. Your mom has been sending me pictures of flowers and food and bridesmaid dresses. And now we’re going to live with you?”

He’s right with me when I turn.

“I’m ready. I understand if you need time. We can put my family off by a week or two so you⁠—”

“No. I mean, if you are certain you’re ready, I can be, too.”

This is for Charlie, after all. I don’t need to remind myself of this, but obviously, I also do.

For my baby.

His expression is that same unreadable one he often has, but there’s a softness to it that makes my pounding heart want to flutter on top of everything else. He’s backlit by the bright orange and pink sunset sky, the mountains purple cutouts hulking farther on.

His lips part and draw my attention, but he doesn’t speak for a minute.

Then he clears his throat. “Why don’t I show you around the house? You can see where Charlie’s room will be.”

“Okay.”

He leads the way inside, then up one flight of stairs to a carpeted hallway with three doors. On the left is a bright bedroom with light blue paint that’s empty of everything else.

“This is Charlie’s room.” He walks in and snags a piece of bright blue tape off the windowsill, wandering around the space and inspecting it with those discerning eyes of his.

Then it clicks. “Wait, is that painter’s tape? Did you just paint this?”

Is it possible he’s painted this room for my son before we’re even married?

His jaw flexes, then he nods. “I know light blue is a bit cliché, but I was told it’s also a calming color. If you prefer something else, I⁠—”

I grab his arm and halt his nonsense. “No, it’s perfect. I—” And then I go full tilt and hug him. I’m a tactile person and he’s just so deliciously sweet.

Forget ice cream. I’ll take a scoop of Declan Ryan, please and thank you.

My arms wrap around his waist and I hug him close. It’s a lot for us, but it’s not completely new. “This is so kind of you. It’ll be perfect.”