Page 114 of Broken Halo

Griffin is the happiest—and as Trig describes him, the stickiest—baby around. And now I have nothing to shield him from. My ex-father-in-law is being investigated by the Drug Enforcement Administration for illegal distribution of a controlled substance. Trig says he’s in hot water and will likely lose his medical license. Carl and Teresa Ketteman are a distant memory and always will be. At least that’s what Trig promised and I know if they ever become a threat again, Trig will take care of it. He’s already claimed Griffin in almost every way, and tomorrow, right after we say I do, he’ll sign the official adoption papers. Griffin will be his even though he already is. My baby—he loves Trig and Trig loves him. It brings me to my knees at times … but pretty much everything does these days. The hormones are strong.

And it’s all I can do to keep my emotions in check as I watch them bond. Trig has made sure we’ve become a family, and has even mastered how to change a diaper and do it efficiently, which is good since we’ll have double the diapers to change soon.

He puts his lips to mine as he slides inside me. “Tomorrow, angel, it begins.”

“My love for you never ended, Trig.”

“Never,” he promises.

And, this time, I know nothing will ever rip us apart.

* * *

Five years later

“There you go, baby. Walk to daddy.”

My heart swells.

No, it bursts.

Our little Evelyn Faye, with her sweet blond curls and blue eyes the color of her daddy’s, flaps her arms and grins a big, bubbly smile as she toddles on her chubby legs from me to Trig. She’s got ketchup on her face and is fisting mushy bits of french fries in each tiny hand, but she does it. She eats up the five feet between us, waddling like a little penguin as she takes her first steps.

Her brothers hoot and holler as she moves right into Trig’s arms.

She’ll turn one next month. Griffin and Asher didn’t walk until they were well over a year—they didn’t have the patience and were happy to cruise around on all fours. But our little peanut, she has the will of a thousand with the disposition of her namesake in heaven.

She’s also got her daddy wrapped around her sticky little fingers and he loves every moment of it.

Our family has grown and our home is bursting with trucks, balls, and, now, baby dolls. We’ve filled all the bedrooms. The sunroom is now a toy room. The kitchen is now referred to as Barrett Command Central. And it’s perfect—all of it. Trig was right all those years ago. We could have so much more but this is home. As we’ve added to our growing family, it becomes more and more cemented in our hearts. We’re here, we’re close, and we’re together.

Trig and I had ten years apart. We’ll never take for granted being where we are now.

We found our own way, different from Cam, Jen, and even Quinn. Any divide between the Montgomerys and the Barretts is long gone and life is good.

Family is good.

Trig swings Evie up in his arms, making her squeal, and blows in her neck. She, in turn, gives him wet, ketchup kisses right on the nose.

This doesn’t bother my husband. He’s used to baby muck by now—he has no choice. Not since he likes to keep me pregnant. I told him one more—that was it.

I’m down to teaching ten hours a week at the studio but pop into every class when I can. I love getting to know my students, especially the little ones. Dance should be fun and that’s how we teach it.

Trig is still at Montgomery Industries, ruling the business world with my sister. We’re done with babysitters and nannies—the kids go to the in-house daycare at MI with their cousins when I teach.

Just when I think life can’t get any better, Trig will do something to take my breath away, and it does. Every touch, every whispered profession of love, and every time he makes a dad move that melts my heart, he goes and makes me fall deeper than I already am.

“Look at my girl.” Trig beams at Evie as she squeals. “Small and mighty, just like your mama.”

I go to them and lift up on my toes to kiss her chubby cheek. “Good girl, baby.”

Trig doesn’t move away and grabs me by the back of my head to pull me to him. He kisses me deep and hard before letting me go as Maxi, our sweet pound puppy, jumps at our legs. “You make good babies.”

“Quit trying to butter me up for another one.”

He doesn’t even try to hide his grin. “It’s time.”

I shake my head. “You’re impossible.”

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