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By the time we’ve taken enough photos to fill the Louvre and the December sun is high enough that we’re all starting to sweat in our sweaters, Theo is completely limp in Simon’s arms. His head is flopped on Simon’s shoulder, cheeks flushed from the hike and all the attention, a little ring of sweat curling the hair at his temples.
I lean into Simon’s side, brushing a lock of Theo’s hair back off his forehead. My ring catches the light and sends tiny rainbows scattering across his sleeping face.
“Sweet girl,” Simon murmurs, leaning down to kiss my temple.
Just those two words send a rush of heat straight through me. This man is going to be my husband. It still doesn’t feel real that he still wants me, still loves me, and now I get to spend forever with him. The way his arms look holding our son, the low rasp of his voice, the way he keeps glancing at me like he can’t believe I’m real—it’s making my skin feel too tight. I want to drag him into the trees right now, push him down, and ride him until neither of us can think straight.
“Thanks for saying yes, by the way,” he chuckles. “Was a little terrified you’d just pitch me over the edge. Or that you’d say no and I’d have to pitch myself over.”
I burst out laughing. “Of course I said yes!”
He smiles, and even that is so unbelievably sexy I have to press my thighs together. I want to drag him somewhere into these woods and ride him until he breaks.
“Well, I was nervous,” he admits.
“I could tell. You looked like you were going to throw up. I was worried you were scared of heights or something.”
He gives me a deadpan look. “I’m not scared of heights.”
I bite my lip, heat pooling low in my stomach as I glance up at him. “Good. Because I have plans for you tonight that involve you being very… steady.”
His eyes darken instantly, and I know he’s thinking the exact same thing I am.
“Okay lovebirds! Stop eye fucking!” Chance calls out, rocking his infant against his chest.
I whip my head around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Simon just snickers behind me, the low sound vibrating through his chest and straight into my already overheated bloodstream.
“Leave them alone,” Carter defends, stepping closer with that easy grin of his. “Simon finally nutted up and proposed after like… ten years. They’ve earned some eye fucking.”
“Can we all watch our language around the kids?” Sophia snaps at her husband and brother-in-law from where she’s helping Mom get sandwiches out to the little ones still awake and cranky.
Before the bickering can spiral, Carter turns back to us, his voice softening into something genuinely warm. “Seriously though, congrats, you two. If you want, I can take Theo for the night—Alex and I can watch him. You guys can go to dinner or something to celebrate. No rush picking him up tomorrow.”
Simon’s arms tighten around our sleeping son, and my heart does a ridiculous little flip at the offer.
A whole night alone. The thought alone makes me clench my thighs as slick pools hot and insistent in my panties. I can practically feel Simon thinking the same thing—a whole night, uninterrupted, not having to worry about a sleeping toddler down the hall waking up to us making too much noise. No tiptoeing around, no muffled moans, no worrying about him stirring at 6 a.m. and needing us to function as parents.
Dad, who’s been chatting with Mom nearby, makes a choked, strangled sort of cough at the implication. His ears go pink as he clears his throat and mutters, “Well… that’s… considerate of you boys.” He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and Mom softly bumps his shoulder, whispering something that makes his scowl.
“You sure?” I ask Carter, though the hopeful, breathless note in my voice gives me away completely.
“Positive,” Carter says with a wink. “Go celebrate.”
Simon’s free hand finds the small of my back, fingers slipping just under the hem of my sweater to rest against warm skin.
When he speaks, his voice is low and rough. “Thanks Carter. Appreciate it.”
The husk in his voice makes my knees weak. I press closer, already counting the minutes until we can hand Theo off and slip away. This man proposed to me today. He’s been carrying that ring for five years. And tonight, I’m going to show him exactly how much I still want him.
***
I trail after Simon as we start the slow walk down the mountain toward the cars, my eyes fixed on the broad line of his shoulders. He’s carrying our sleeping son like he was born for it—Theo’s head tucked against his neck, one small hand fisted in the collar of his sweater. Simon chats easily with Chance and Carter like no time has passed at all, like he never left our family.
The sight makes my chest ache in the best way. This is how it was always meant to be. As much as it still stings that he waited five long years to choose this life with us, I’m almost glad it happened this way. We’ve both grown so much on our own—him learning how to be steady, me learning how to stand on my own two feet as a mother and a woman. Now we get to step into forever as better versions of ourselves, stronger for each other.
“You have to post this one!” Sophia says, thrusting her phone toward me for the third time. Brittney makes an excited little chirp of agreement beside her, already scrolling through her own camera roll.
They’ve been pestering me nonstop about making an official announcement on Facebook ever since I casually mentioned Veronica’s post from this morning. I’ve never been big on social media—being a teacher means keeping a low profile online is just smarter—but the petty part of me wants to make this a whole thing. I want to start posting photos of Simon and me and our new life together, knowing full well Veronica—and probably a handful of his other exes—will see them.
