Page 145 of Hidden Memories

Kat’s eyes shine. Laughter spills between us, filling that last empty space inside me.

“No, Santi…youdid it. This one is all about you. The man you are.”

Her words soak into my chest.

Owen is here. Safe with me. I don’t know what’s on the horizon with his mom, if adoption will ever be a possibility, but at least he’ll never have to worry about where his pillow is at night or where his boots are in the morning. Never again.

I kiss Kat’s temple.

She looks up at me, smiling so wide I think she might burst. “Ava’s going to be insufferable now, isn’t she?

“Oh, you have no idea.” I huff out a laugh, already imagining her smug grin. “But I don’t care, I got what I wanted.”

Kat’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight.

Just then, another text pings on Kat’s phone, and she bursts into laughter. She shows me the text.

Ava

Tell Santi not to forget my thank you dinner. I expect steak.

I groan. “Jesus Christ.” I shake my head. “Do you think she’s the reason the decision came through a month early?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She combs her fingers through my hair. “The result would have been the same. Who better for the job than you, cowboy?”

I clutch Kat close, needing something real to hold onto. The rush of it all nearly knocks me flat.

Then her phone buzzesagain.

She groans. “If Ava demands gold-plated French fries, I swear?—”

I pick up her cell, then bark out a laugh.

Ava

Don’t forget dessert.

Kat snatches the phone and then raises a brow. “She thinks you’re handling dessert?”

I smirk, hauling her closer. “Woman, Iamthe damn dessert.”

I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her laugh, her surrender, her playful words…

“Guess I better work up an appetite.”

Epilogue

THREE MONTHS LATER

The wind movesthrough the valley, rustling the golden grass in slow, sweeping waves, carrying the scent of earth, of fall, of home. The sky is that deep, endless blue that only comes in the last stretch of the season before winter settles in, and the light is softer now, draping everything in gold.

It reminds me of the first time I saw her here.

Kat stands beneath the tree, one hand resting on the rough bark, the other absentmindedly tracing the K&S heart I carved there all those moons ago.

She asks wistfully, “Were you already whittling back when you carved this?”

I nod, thinking of how I use the exact same knives to work on projects with Theo now. Sliding doors.

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