Page 122 of Call It Love

Chase lifted my fingers to his mouth and pressed a kiss onto them. “She doesn’t have anything to prove. Not to me. Not to anyone. And hopefully, not to herself.”

Emma’s eyes met mine. “If you ever change your mind, let me know. In the meantime, may I offer a little advice?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t discount the quality of your work. If you sell them at craft fairs or farmer’s markets or only give them to friends, it’s perfect the way it is.” She paused and glanced at Chase’s hand, which remained on my knee. “You already seem to have found what people spend years trying to find. Don’t lose that.”

I smiled at Chase. “Believe me, I won’t.”

By the time we pulled up to the farmhouse, the sky was streaked with pinks and yellows as the sun’s glow dipped lower and lower behind the mountains. Chase parked, but neither of us moved right away.

“Regrets?” Chase asked quietly.

I leaned my head against the seat and turned to look at him. I hadn’t known it could be so easy to be with someone. Like everything he grew, his love had deep roots—strong, steady, and secure.

“None,” I answered, knowing it was the total truth.

He leaned in to kiss me, then hopped out of the truck, momentarily distracted by Jack, who came bounding out of the house and threw himself at Chase’s legs.

I stayed in my seat a moment longer, savoring the sight. In the fading light, I watched the farmhouse that had been in the family for several generations. It had seen so many stories of love and loss, success and hardships. I wondered how my story would weave into its foundation. A part of me would always carry the ache that I wouldn’t be able to help carry on the Allen name, at least not by birth. But thanks to Chase, I knew what really made this house a home. And the proof of that was standing in the doorway, holding a bowl of popcorn and looking vaguely annoyed.

“Where have you been? You said afternoon,” Jordan scolded. “It’s practically bedtime.”

Chase smirked. “Miss us?”

“Nope,” he answered, but the faint smile he tried to hide behind a handful of popcorn said otherwise as he turned and went back into the house.

Chase came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice warm in my ear.

“Just how good this feels. Like I’ve finally come home.”

His mouth nuzzled my neck. “That’s because you have. It’s always been here. You just had to claim it.”

I turned in his arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For opening the door. All those years ago, and againwhen I needed it. For going with me to Nashville. For making me feel like I didn’t have to choose.”

His thumb brushed my cheek. “Always, Anna.” He winked. “But if you ever decide you want to take over the industry with lavender and goat’s milk, I’m your guy.”

I laughed. “What I want is what I already have. This.”

He kissed me, slowly and surely. And standing in the dusk with the arms of the man who had never asked me to be anything other than myself, I had everything.

Epilogue

Anna

Four monthslater

I woke to the weight of Chase’s arm around my waist and the steady rise and fall of his breath at the back of my neck. The window was cracked just enough to let in the cool bite of early fall. Out in the newly enclosed pasture, Mary, Martha, George, and a young set of newly born twins bleated. I snuggled deeper under the covers, loving it all.

Chase stirred, the faint scratch of stubble against my shoulder where he’d buried his face sometime during the night.

“Five more minutes,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

I laughed softly. “Is that all you need?”