Page 171 of Stay Wild Darlin’

My girls.

That would never get old.

“They’re upstairs getting dressed. Cora’s on this one-nap-a-day schedule now, so . . . yeah. We’re all adjusting.”

“Whoa,” Beau said as he stepped inside. “This is amazing. You did all this since I was here last?”

Fable trailed right behind him, wide-eyed. “This looks like it belongs in a magazine. Like the good kind. Not the ones in gas stations.”

I grinned as Harleigh and Gatlin walked in next, both stopping in the doorway like the house had knocked the breath out of them.

“Shit,” Gatlin muttered, hands on his hips as he looked around. “I knew y’all were fixing it up, but damn. This is nice.”

“Wow. This feels like a home,” Harleigh added.

“Alright, alright. You’re all too nice,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Let me take you on the grand tour.”

I led them through the front room first, where cream-colored walls were accented with dark green pillows, throws, and a painted shelf to match our plan to paint the house deep forest green this fall. The leather couch was rich brown, centered around a vintage coffee table.

In the kitchen, white quartz countertops and brass fixtures gleamed under warm light.

“Poppy picked everything,” I said, nodding toward the open shelves, labeled jars, and the big farmhouse sink. “This is her dream room.”

Harleigh peeked into the playroom off the kitchen. “This is Cora’s?”

“Yep,” I said. “Sunroom turned into toddler paradise.”

We made our way upstairs, where I cracked open Cora’s room. Peach walls, fairy lights, and her name above the crib in soft wood script. Poppy stepped out from the hall bathroom with Cora on her hip. She had her hair up in a ponytail and was wearing cut-offs and her infamous tank top.

“Oh, hey, didn’t know y’all were already here.”

I kissed her cheek. “Had to show ’em around.”

“Welcome to our chaos,” she said, laughing gently.

We all meandered back downstairs, the house buzzing with quiet chatter and creaky floorboards under bare feet. Poppy disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food she’d prepped, humming as she pulled trays from the oven.

“Thank you, guys, for coming,” she said, setting a big bowl of pasta on the counter. “Seriously, it means a lot. And also—I need someone to take leftovers, or I will cry.”

Harleigh reached for a roll. “I will gladly be your emotional support leftover person.”

“Same,” Fable said, already poking around the salad bowl. “I have no shame.”

Beau stepped up beside me, quiet for a second, hands in his pockets as he looked around. “You did it. This place is beautiful, man.”

“Took a while, but it’s ours now. Every wall, every board . . . we built it together.”

Beau nodded slowly. “Feels like you. Like a fresh start.”

“It is,” I said, swallowing hard. “It’s the first place that’s ever felt like a real home.”

He clapped a hand to my shoulder, squeezing once. “I’m proud of you.”

I didn’t say anything back, just watched Poppy lean down to kiss Cora’s curls, her smile soft and full of light.

I never imagined life would look like this, but I couldn’t picture anything else.

We took our plates outside, the evening sun casting a golden hue over the yard. The big oak tree out back stretched wide above us as we settled on the long wooden picnic table beneath it. Poppy had draped a linen runner down the center, and someone lit the string lights she’d wrapped through the branches weeks ago.