Page 139 of Dean

“Then go goth. Purple it is.”

She squeals and the line goes dead. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.

A year ago, my sister told my parents to fuck off, left Northern California, and moved into the garage apartment that Ben used to occupy. Ben’s now living with Cash and Ford, and of course, he was happy to know his place was going to be used by someone special to me.

And plus, Dean insisted. He told me he’d been planning it with Amanda for years now. He even paid for the moving truck to help her get her things down here.

I fucking love that man.

I’m so glad he asked me to marry him shortly after I moved in. I would have had to drag him to the alter if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee one evening and asked me. The wedding was a small affair with just close friends, but it was perfect.

And now he’s all mine.

My husband.

Strong hands wrap around me from behind and lips brush against my neck. I know who it is without even looking. I can just sense him. Perfection.

“Hey,” I moan, leaning into him as his lips trail up to my cheek. I turn slightly and he captures my mouth with his own.

“You smell fucking good,” Dean says lowly.

“So do you,” I reply and then step away. “But I have the meat in my hands and I need to get it on the grill.”

“Meat you say?” he jokes, and I roll my eyes.

“Literally.”

He stares down at the container I’m holding and takes it from me.

“Alright. But tonight, Avery. You and me. Alone. Your meat. My meat.”

“Oh my god. Never say that again.”

He chuckles and then leans forward, kissing me roughly before moving toward the sliding glass door.

My eyes trail down to his ass as lust courses through me. These feelings I have for him haven’t lessened in the slightest, and his feelings for me only seem to have grown—if that’s even possible.

To say I’m happy is an understatement.

I’m fucking thrilled.

This has been my dream come true. I can’t believe this is my life—living with the man I love, my sister close to me, and everyone around me happy. I hang back from following Dean outside and glance around the house. Everything here is so much more alive, so much more colorful than it was. My art decorates the colorful walls, plants scatter the tables and floors, and pictures of our family sit on bookshelves. Don’t worry, Elaine is there as well. She will never be forgotten.

I love the way Dean is looking at her on their wedding day. I found the photograph in a box in his closet and insisted it be hung up.

He cried a little when he saw it.

I want him to remember her, to think of her often.

I think this is why I’m here—to love him the way she would have.

I pluck a wilting flower off one of my plants as I walk past it and toss it into the garbage can. This place feels so much like home, one I never thought I’d have.

And don’t get me started on the backyard. The trees are growing perfectly, lush plants in pots sitting on the porch. This entire space is an ongoing project. Just last weekend, I found some geraniums on sale at the garden center and planted them in the planter boxes Ford and Cash helped Dean build.

It looks fabulous. I can’t wait to add more.

I never thought I’d ever be this content.

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