Page 47 of Finding Home

Placing my hand on the paper, I stop Wren’s spiel. She turns to me, eyes wary but hopeful. “It really means that much to you?” I ask.

“It really does.”

“Okay. Call her Monday to start the onboarding process.” Wren flings herself into my arms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Harper. I’ll make it up to you, I promise, and I really think this is the right thing to do.”

“Wren, I want us to be partners, and part of that is trusting you. And just so we are clear, there will be no unpaid overtime. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for everyone else all the time, you know.”

The weight of my words visibly affects her. “I know.” Her words are quiet.

“Do you? I’ve seen you take on the weight of others too many times to count without ever asking for help. I hope you know you are worth looking out for, too.”

I’m wrapped in another hug, the moment shifting our relationship.

The front door swings open, and Blake is there taking in the way Wren is hugging me. A smile tugs at his lips. “Sorry to break up the party, but Bree is ready to serve dessert, if you two are done.”

Wren and I turn, both dissolving into a fit of laughter. Blake is wearing a pink tiara, clip-on earrings, a necklace, and someone has even put makeup on him. “Jace’s sister is a menace. Who buys a four-year-old a makeup kit?” he questions, pointing to his face. This sets us off again. Blake gives us a curtsey and heads back inside.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” I nudge Wren before standing.

“Yeah, he is.” Her tone is not nearly as light as before. It takes all my self-control to not push her on the topic of Blake, but I know now isn’t the time. With I sigh, I follow her into the house to the family I have built all gathered around laughing together, and the sight fills my heart with gratitude.

Chapter 32

Jace

The breeze winding through the rows of evergreens has just enough bite to it to have me pull my coat a bit tighter, looking up to the sky. Snow is still unlikely, but the cold snap hitting the area feels like mother earth is preparing for the shift from fall to winter already. I actually love winter. Sitting around the fireplace, a warm drink in hand, surrounded by the people that mean the most to you, and this year, that will be truer than ever before.

Harper and Lizzie’s cheeks and noses are pink from the cold, but it doesn’t faze them. Lizzie is scampering about, checking out every tree, running her hands through the boughs, sniffing them, and even hugging a few. Tink is on her heels, ever the protector of her girl. Last month, we went for a walk at the park. Lizzie made for the pond, and Harper rushed to intervene, but Tink was faster and herded Lizzie back to the path, away from danger. I smile, watching Lizzie prance about, and my lips tug up remembering the way Harper had her bundled up when I swung by to get them earlier.

“Hi, girls,” I call out the window of my truck as I pull into the drive with a wide ass grin on my face. We’re going tree shopping today, and apparently, they are ready to get to it, both already waiting on the front steps. The only thing I can see on Lizzie is her face, reminding me of the kid on A Christmas Story. Randy, that’s his name, I think.

“Harper, can she even walk in all that?” I laugh, hopping out, leaving my truck running so it stays warm.

“The temperature dropped last night, and I don’t want her to get cold. I also don’t want to be rushed finding the perfect tree, so…” her words trail off like her explanation is complete.

Lizzie chooses that moment to try and run for Tink, toppling over and getting stuck on her back. Harper laughs so hard, tears run down her face, then acquiesces that maybe she had gone a little overboard.

We pile into my truck, and I surprise Harper with having the same car seat she has in her car waiting in the back seat. Honestly, it was long overdue for me to have one, and luckily, she takes it as the kind gesture I meant it to be, and not me being presumptuous. The hour drive to the tree farm is filled with laughter and Christmas music. I knew Harper loved Christmas, but I sorely underestimated her level of love for it. She sang along to every song, talking nonstop about all the must have qualities for a tree.

I soaked it all in, again thankful for bench seats so she could be right beside me, and I could have my hand on her thigh the whole drive. The way I crave contact with her borders on obsession, but I can’t stop it, nor do I want to. It doesn’t help that Harper decided to wear the wrap around sweater she wore on our first date. Not only is it insanely soft, just asking to be touched, but I also know a gentle tug at the ribbon will expose her to me. My cock stirs just thinking about it. I adjust it and pull my coat down, concealing the tent that has been created.

Lizzie is a blur as she runs past. Hat crooked and scarf trailing behind her about to fall off as her laughter rings out. Harper, who had wandered off to check on a tree she spotted, is nowhere in sight, so I follow behind Lizzie with my hands tucked into my pockets. A minute later, Harper appears, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders as she curls into me.

“Mmmm, you’re so warm.” Her voice is light and happy.

“How was the tree?” I ask, rolling my lips over my teeth to hide my smile when she sighs dramatically.

“Nearly perfect, except for an ugly bare spot on one side.”

“Can’t you turn it so that spot is in the back?” Her steps falter, her eyes aiming incredulously at me. I try but can’t stop the laughter this time. She takes tree hunting so seriously, and it’s fucking adorable.

“That is sacrilege, Jace. The perfect tree is here; we just have to hunt for it.” The conviction in her voice has me tugging her in for a quick kiss. We walk slowly, her tucked under my arm, Lizzie and Tink just ahead.

“Too thin, too short, weird top,” she murmurs, her head on a swivel, checking each tree we pass. Lizzie is stopped before a large tree, at least nine feet tall. Her mittened hands caress the lower boughs. Harper breaks away from me, circling the tree, running a critical eye over every inch of it, disappearing from sight. Lizzie trots over, lifting her arms to me. Swinging her onto my hip, I wait for the verdict.

Harper reappears, cheeks rosy, eyes lit up. “This is the one!” she declares and jogs over to us, wrapping me and Lizzie in a big hug. Smiling down at her, my throat gets tight. This…this is the good stuff that people write songs about. We stand together, soaking up the joy of finding “the one.”