Page 67 of Restored By You

“Your mother would have loved this,” he says finally. “This kind of family. She always wanted more children, but I told her one was plenty.” His jaw works. “I’ve been thinking about all of the things I got wrong. It’s a long list, Shea. And I want you to know I don’t expect to make up for it in one Thanksgiving.”

“You won’t,” I say, not unkind. “But you could come to the next one and see how it goes.”

He nods. “I’d like that. Very much.”

I reach over and squeeze his hand on the railing, the first time I can remember reaching for my father instead of the other way around, and he squeezes back.

The door opens again and Rhett steps out, two mugs in hand. “Ma’s cutting the pies,” he says. “Figured I’d get you before Levi commits a crime covering the apple pie in cheese like he did last year.” He hands me a mug, nods to my father. “Daniel. There’s a chair by the fire with your name on it, if you want it. Michelle’s already claimed the good spot.”

My father looks between us and I hope he sees it, really sees it. What Rhett gives me. What I’ve found here. “Thank you, son,” he says, and heads inside.

Son. Rhett blinks at the door, stunned. “Huh.”

I laugh. “So, is winning people over your specialty or…?”

He grins, his free hand sliding over my waist and around my hip. The tips of his fingers settling on my ass. He taps his fingers. “That depends,” he says, playing coy. “Have I won you?”

I pull him down by the collar and kiss him. “You had me at where’s the leak.”

Rhett throws his head back and barks a laugh, but he’s beaming. And knowing I’m the reason is more than enough.

He will always be enough.

“I don’t think I said anything like that,” he chuckles.

I hum, tipping my head. “Agree to disagree.”

“Come on, gorgeous,” he murmurs against my ear, grinning. “Before the pie is gone.”

We go back inside and I take my place at a table that has somehow become mine. Tyler laughs. Julie hands my father a slice of pie. Clayton and Butch shout at the TV. Parker’s asleep against Maci’s shoulder. Callie is nestled on Beau’s lap, feeding him forkfuls of pie. Duke is cradling a sleeping baby girl in his arms. Lily is helping clean up with Cassidy. And Rhett’s arm is around me, solid and impossibly sure.

Two months ago, I flew into this town with a plan to go back to the place I thought was home. But I’m not going home.

I’m already there.

Epilogue.

Rhett

Five months later…

I’ve had the ring for three weeks now.

It’s not flashy. I thought about flashy. She’s from a world of diamonds the size of doorknobs, but Callie assured me that’s not something she wants, and to go with my gut. So I got her something simple, vintage. An old rose-cut stone on a gold band with intricate designs. When I first saw it, it reminded me of the house. Of us, in a way.

I’ve been carrying it around waiting for the right moment, which is stupid, because with Shea, every moment’s the right moment. And yet, I keep talking myself out of it. Too soon. Too many people. Not here.

But right now she’s standing in the middle of the Hargrove place—her place now—with a moving box on her hip and her wild curls escaping a claw clip, directing me where to put a lamp, and I have never in my life been more sure of anything.

“No, not there, that corner gets the morning light, I want the reading chair there.” She points. “Lamp goes by the window.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t yes ma’am me, you’re enjoying this.”

“I am,” I admit, setting the lamp down. “Bossy looks good on you.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles.