Page 25 of One Night Diamond

“Does she?” I swipe a stray tear from her cheek. “What if it’s a girl?”

“She says it won’t be.”

“Is that so?” I wink at Lilah.

“Yup. You’ll have a baby boy and I think we should get a girl puppy.” She says matter of factly.

“A puppy?” I chuckle. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Emily helps Lilah over the wall. She runs over the turf in a Bangor Brave shirt that’s three sizes too big, wraps her little arms around me and her mother, squeezing us as hard as she can. “No, silly. Mummy always told me the story about you wanted a dog when you were a little boy but you never got to have one. When I got you, daddy, when you came and found me, I got my dream. I think you should have your dreams, too.”

Her words hit me straight in the heart making my knees buckle. I don’t know when it happened, or how it happened, but somehow, I’ve become the luckiest man alive. I pull my girls in tight, kiss the top of Lilah’s head, kiss Darla’s smiling lips and let my palm rest against her stomach. “I’m holding my dreams right now, peanut. And I’m never letting go.”

Epilogue - Gage

I park the truck, grab the treats for my girls and the bag of groceries Darla insisted she had to have. I still can’t fathom why on earth she would need anything from the grocery store. We’ve made six trips this week. Six!

I tried to talk her into having Thanksgiving catered. But she wouldn’t hear of it. My wife is stubborn.

Wife.

I smile as I look at the gold band sitting on my left ring finger. The night after I slipped the diamond on her hand, we were standing in front of a Justice of the Peace. “I’ve waited a lifetime for you, Gage Harlow,” she said. “I’m not waiting one more day.”

“But you’ve only had the diamond for one night. That’s the shortest engagement in history.”

“One night with your diamond on my hand is all I need. I want to add a wedding band as soon as possible.”

How could I say no?

What my wife wants, she gets. Which is why I’m walking up the front steps of our new six bedroom, four bath oversized Garrison complete with a Farmer’s porch sitting on ten acres of land. My next purchase is going to be a John Deere riding mower. Because there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’m pushing a mower around this yard.

I kick of my shoes, hang up my jacket and head for the kitchen. When I hit the doorjamb, I stop dead in my tracks. The granite countertops are littered with mixing bowls. There are also crumpled wads of paper towels, tipped over spice jars, unwrapped sticks of butter and a hundred kitchen tools I’ve never seen before in my life.

It’s a mess.

Lilah’s standing on a kitchen chair, her hands kneading feverishly into a wad of dough as puffs of flour rise into the air. Darla’s at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes singing at the top of her lungs.

My throat closes and my eyes sting.

“How much longer do I do this, mummy?” Lilah is so in the zone she doesn’t even see me. She bites down on her bottom lip, using her shoulders for leverage.

“Another minute, peanut.”

“Do you think daddy will like our fresh-baked rolls?”

“Sweetheart, your daddy is going to love them.”

“What if they don’t rise right?”

“Your father won’t care. He’ll eat them because they’re made with love.”

My chest tightens as I realize this must be what heaven looks like.

“Hey, daddy!”

I snap to and wipe the mist from my eye. “Hey, you.” I kiss Lilah’s cheek. “Whatcha making?”

“Homemade bread rolls for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.” Her blue eyes twinkle. “Did you bring us a prize?”

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