Page 92 of Taming Georgia

“It’s real, and it’s forever. I hope you’re ready,” I tell her, running my hands up and down her waist.

She bites her bottom lip and inhales through her nose. Her gaze holds mine. “I’ve been running my whole life, desperately seeking some unknown that was always just out of my reach. All this time, I was running to you.” She shakes her head, and tears slide down her rosy cheeks. “I never knew it was you that I needed. It was always you, Wyatt.” She brings her hand up to my face, and her palm cups my cheek.

I cover her hand with mine, holding her grasp against my face. “I’ve always been waiting for you to find me. It’s always been you, Peaches.”

I lay my lips against hers and smile. The outlying fragments of my heart, shattered when I was young, come together, and I’m finally whole. Georgia tamed my broken heart with her love, and I’ll spend the rest of my life loving her with everything I have.

EPILOGUE

Three Years Later

“Fairy tales are real. I live in one every single day.”

—Georgia Gates

I set the Minnie Mouse cake down next to the Lightning McQueen cake and smile at the cuteness. Disney is single-handedly responsible for my children’s current obsessions. I know every word to all of theCarsmovies andMickey Mouse Clubhouseepisodes. When one is the parent of a two- and one-year-old, one learns quickly that Disney saves lives—or at least Mommy’s sanity.

Our first little miracle came less than a year after our wedding. We named him Asher, which means fortunate or blessing. We tossed around the idea of naming him after a place like my parents did with London and me, but it didn’t feel right. I’ve been all over the world and never felt at home anywhere until Wyatt. For me, it’s the people who make a place a home, not a spot on a map. Asher’s unofficial name is Asher Wyatt Stanley Cooper Gates, his three middle names after three souls who played a part in this amazing life in which I now live.

I think back to Stanley, the homeless man I met as a child who changed my views on the world. He was a chance meeting that altered the course of my life from what was expected to what was right. Meeting him made me think about everything—what I wanted to be and what I didn’t. Our encounter started me on the search for more, which ultimately led me to Wyatt.

The four-legged Stanley that accompanied Mark, the homeless man I met while I was running when I first moved in with Paige, played an essential role in my happily ever after as well. For he and Mark directed me to Cooper’s Place and Wyatt.

Then, there’s Cooper, my first furbaby, who Wyatt says saved his life. I never knew I could love an animal so much until I met Cooper. He’s an amazing breed ambassador, showing everyone what a pit bull is. He loves every creature he comes across, both two- and four-legged alike. He’s seen the worst that humans have to offer, and he loves us just the same. He is the inspiration for Cooper’s Place, which, once again, brought me to Wyatt.

After baby Asher was born, Wyatt convinced me that three middle names was a bit excessive and persuaded me to choose one. Truthfully, it wasn’t hard to narrow it down because, as important as both Stanley and Cooper were to my life, Wyatt’s my miracle. He’s the soul mate I didn’t believe existed, the love of my life. He’s my home.

So, our little love—Asher Wyatt—carries his father’s name, and it’s perfect. He’s a two-year-old, rough and tumble, little miniature of his father. My heart opened more than I had known possible the day Asher was born. The love I have for Wyatt is all-encompassing, but the love I have for Asher is indescribable. There really are no words to portray a mother’s love for her children. It’s an astonishing gift that I’ll forever be grateful for.

Then, almost a year to the date later, our baby girl came. It’s clear now that when people say that one can’t get pregnant while nursing, they are in fact lying. Having two babies so close has been a lot of work, but I wouldn’t change a thing. We named our girl Mirielle Ethel Gates. Mirielle is a French name meaning miraculous, which she is. Anyone in Michigan that sees it written automatically mispronounces it. The French pronunciation isMeer-ay, which has turned into Ray-Ray, her ever-so-fitting nickname. Ray-Ray is a little blonde spitfire. Besides her beautiful, doe blue eyes, which are all her father, she’s my mini me. She’s loud, bossy, and full of attitude in the most adorable way ever. She’s only one, but I can tell that she’s going to change the world someday. It’s written all over her soul.

Wyatt comes up behind me and places his hands against my round belly. I lean back into his chest, a content sigh leaving my lips.

He kisses my neck. “Cakes look good, babe.”

“They’re cute, aren’t they?”

“Very.”

“How’s Happy treating Mommy today?” he asks of the baby growing inside my belly, which we’re currently calling Happy.

Wyatt and I decided after Ray-Ray that we were satisfied with being a family of four. Fast-forward to six months later when I was in Target, buying a shirt with a quote from the late Bob Ross that said,There are no mistakes, just happy accidents, I got the urge to buy a pregnancy test, as I was feeling off. I presented the positive pregnancy test, wrapped in the T-shirt, to Wyatt that night. Baby number three has been lovingly referred to as Happy since then, though I’ve told Wyatt the name is temporary. I have no qualms about naming my child after a dog, but I draw the line at the seven dwarfs.

“Good,” I sigh with a grin.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers against my neck between kisses, causing goose bumps to erupt over my entire body.

“Yeah, right. I’m fat,” I tease because, truthfully, I do feel beautiful in spite of my huge belly. I love being pregnant. I feel so fortunate that my body will carry a little life inside it until he or she is ready to come into the world. The fact is, all babies are miracles, and we’re not sure what we’re going to name Happy, but I’d guess the name will mean miracle.

“Isn’t it weird that I’ve had a belly the majority of the time that we’ve been together?” I ask with a chuckle.

Wyatt turns me around so that I’m facing him and kisses me on the lips. “If by weird, you mean fucking sexy, then yes.”

His eyes darken as he scans my body because he’s serious when he says that my pregnant body turns him on. We’ve had the hottest sex with this big ball protruding from my middle.

With my arms wrapped around his neck, my thumb traces the short hair at the base of his neck. “You going to show me how sexy you find me tonight?” I ask coyly, my lips against his.

Wyatt growls and captures my mouth, kissing me like only he can. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait.” His voice is husky with need.

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