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“Most of the time,” he amended.

Biscuit gave an impatient huff from beside the abandoned box. Claire glanced toward him. “Do you think he knows he’s being ignored?”

“He’ll recover.” Noah held out his hand. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“We have a bedroom now.”

“That does sound more efficient.”

Noah took her hand and led her toward the bedroom.

Claire looked back once at the final box, the couch, and the apartment that had already held most of her life long before she officially moved in.

Then she followed her husband down the hall, leaving the final box and everything else until morning.

Epilogue

Claire stood on the wraparound porch with two mugs of coffee in her hands, smiling at the scene unfolding before her.

Noah was in the yard. Lily ran toward him and threw her arms around his waist. She was just as enamored with her daddy as Ainsley was with her Uncle Noah.

A few feet away, Jonah tossed a ball toward Biscuit. It landed directly beside the dog’s paw. Biscuit looked at it, then at Jonah.

“You’re supposed to bring it back!” Jonah called.

Biscuit remained unconvinced.

Gravy, their blue belton English Setter, apparently had no such reservations. She bounded across the yard, snatched the ball from beside Biscuit’s paw, and raced back toward Jonah like she had been personally waiting for this opportunity.

“See? Gravy knows how to play,” Jonah told Biscuit.

Biscuit looked deeply offended.

Claire laughed from the porch.

Somehow, against every prediction she had ever made about her own life, she now had two children, two dogs, and enough dog hair in her house to qualify as a third flooring material.

And she loved every ridiculous bit of it.

“Cookies are on the counter!” Claire hollered.

Jonah and Lily immediately raced toward the house, arguing over who would get the first one. Gravy followed at their heels, Biscuit trailing behind her, apparently deciding cookies were more interesting than fetch.

Noah approached at a much more reasonable pace. He climbed the porch steps and stopped beside her.

Claire handed him a mug of coffee. He smiled, taking it from her.

“Thanks, princess.” He kissed her cheek before taking a sip.

“Of course.”

“How many cookies did you make?” Noah asked.

“Enough.”

“That is not a number.”