Page 54 of Always Will
“True… Okay, so about ten years after we were adopted, my parents were contacted by a social worker. My bio mom had just given birth again and gave up her rights immediately. Despite being six months pregnant with Lainey, my parents jumped at the chance to start the adoption process. They’re only three months apart, thus twins.”
“Pseudo-twins. Got it.”
“This is Maya and her husband, Ben.” He points to a tall woman with light brown skin covered in freckles. Her tight auburn curls fan around her face and down her back. Standing next to her is a lanky Asian man with short black hair who has a protective grip on a toddler. Trevor circles around the two little girls hugging in front of them, one redhead, one brunette. “I guarantee Harper and Hazel—the actual twins—and baby Holland will be running all over the ranch this year.”
His voice tinkles with pure adoration as he shows off his older sister’s family. The smile on his face when I peek up at him pulls at my heart. For all of this being unplanned, I couldn’t have accidentally picked a better person to experience this pregnancy with.
“How else can I help calm your nerves?” His thumb continues those slow swipes over my skin. It’s entrancing. I’ve never felt tranquility like this with any man before.Withanyone,really…
I’m surprised by a yawn. Growing an entire person from scratch is the most exhausting thing, and it’s catching up with me. All I want to do is snuggle into the heat radiating off his body and sleep for the rest of the flight. It’s irrational, considering first class gives me plenty of room to stretch out. This wide-ass armrest is in the way too, but he’s warm and smells so damn good, I just want to lean my head on his shoulder.
“Come here, Gem.” Trevor untangles our fingers and tucks me under his arm.
Another yawn slips, and I shake my head. “I can just lean against the window.”
“And let this perfectly good-looking Willa pillow go to waste?” He waves a hand over his body like he’s on display. “Come on. You can sleep, and I can cuddle without you rolling your eyes at me.”
I roll my eyes despite the edges of my mouth turning up, andadjust in the seat, rotating on my hip to rest against him. A third yawn has me nestling my head into his chest. As his quickened heartbeat slows, I snuggle into him. His hand stroking my upper arm is a serenity song, sending calming surges through me that lull me into a restful sleep.
By the timewe get to Heritage, stars are twinkling in the dusky periwinkle sky. Snow blankets every surface as we drive down Main Street, the warm glow from shop lights rivaling a holiday winter portrait. I wish it was light enough for me to snap a picture, just to remember how magical it all looks.
Trevor’s signature music croons quietly through the radio, and I realize I’m humming along with the catchy song. When I notice my hand tapping my leg to the beat, I curl my fingers, staring out the window to hide the grin tugging my lips.Okay,maybe I like Trevor’s music too.
“I see you dancing over there. Admit it, my music’s pretty good.”
“Yeah, maybe twenty-five years ago,” I tease. A few flurries drift past the window as he slows the rental at a stoplight, right next to a single-story brick building that spans the entire block in front of us. “Is that where you went to high school?”
“And middle school.” He blows out a breath, accelerating slowly as he turns the opposite direction. His fingers drumming on the steering wheel pull my attention away from the window. Hard lines mar his face, and I have the surprising urge to smooth my fingers over each and every one until he looks at peace again. I dig my fingernails into my palms instead. “I’ll show you around town later this week,” he says. “We’ll be at the ranch in about twenty minutes.”
The SUV shudders over the gravel as we turn onto a dirt road. I grip the door handle to keep from jostling, clutching at the queasiness in my stomach with my other hand. The baby revolted over the food on the plane. The smell was just…not happening. And the few snacks I packed in my backpack were gone about an hour ago. I breathe through a fresh wave of nausea. We’re supposed to be joining Trevor’s family for dinner, so food is on the horizon.
The dense forest gives way to tall trees lining a lengthy, paved drive. Victorian-style lampposts flank every fourth one. My mouth drops when we pass under the giant arched entrance gate inscribed with Heritage Ranch Homestead, my gaze fixed on the stately mansion just beyond it. There’s enough light for me to see the surface area the house takes up, and the closer we get, the wider my eyes grow.
I turn my expression to Trevor, who smirks as he shuts off the car. “So…this is the house.”
“That’s no damn house. You grew up here?”
“Yep. The Jones family were some of the first Black homesteaders here in Heritage. Dad’s ancestors were one of a few Black families who stayed amid harsh farming conditions, while others left for Omaha. Heritage Homestead started small, but we’ve expanded on the land. And it’s grown to be one of the most successful ranches in the area.”
“How successful?” I ask, still staring at the mansion.
He laughs. “Successful enough.”
“Trevor…”
“Willa…” he mocks back, smiling as he reaches for my hand. “Don’t freak out. It’s not a big deal.”
“Says the one who grew up in a motherfucking mansion! What the hell, Trev? You didn’t think this was information worth sharing when I asked about your family?”
“I didn’t think it would matter.”
“It doesn’tmatter. I just don’t want to be caught off guard when I’m trying to impress your family.”
Cocking his head, he bites the smile on his lips. I can’t believe I’m falling for those dimples right now. “You want to impress my family?”
“Of course I do. I’ve never done this before. I don’t want them to hate me.”
“That’s not possible, Gem.”
