Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
And as he kisses me under the twinkling fairy lights and the stars above, I know with absolute certainty that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Second Epilogue
Cal–one year later
The porch is my favorite place on the ranch, especially at sunset. The Phantom River glimmers below, the fading light making the surface shimmer like it’s lined with gold. Tonight, the scene is quieter than usual, but it hums with a deeper kind of noise—the kind that seeps into your bones and reminds you what you’re living for.
Layla is sitting in the rocking chair beside me, wrapped in one of my old flannels and a thick blanket. She holds Cameron, our tiny, pink-faced miracle, cradled in her arms. Her soft humming drifts on the breeze, a tune she’s made up just for our daughter.
Carson is sprawled at my feet, his face pressed against Duke’s back. The dog’s tail wags lazily, keeping rhythm with the slow rock of Layla’s chair.
“You’re gonna spoil her,” I say, my voice gruff but teasing as I watch Layla adjust the blanket around Cameron for the third time.
Her eyes flash up to mine, amusement dancing there. “And you’re not?”
“Not even close,” I lie, unable to hide my smirk. Truth is, I’d been carrying Cameron around in the baby carrier all afternoon, showing her every inch of the ranch as if she could understand a word of it.
“Liar,” she counters, grinning.
Carson pipes up, his voice muffled against Duke’s fur. “Daddy talks to her all the time. He told her about the new mustang yesterday.”
“Traitor,” I mutter, nudging him lightly with my boot.
Carson giggles, his laughter high-pitched and pure, the kind that digs its way into your chest and stays there. He sits up and looks at Layla. “Do you think she likes horses, Mommy Layla?”
Layla’s gaze softens as she meets Carson’s wide eyes. “Of course she does. She’s your sister. How could she not?”
He beams at her before turning back to Duke, who rolls over, exposing his belly for a scratch.
“Guess I’m outnumbered,” I say, leaning back in my chair and stretching out my legs. The wood creaks under my weight.
“You’ve always been outnumbered,” Layla says, her tone laced with that playful defiance I’ve come to crave. “You’re just figuring it out now.”
I turn my head to look at her, watching the way the golden light plays off her features. She’s as beautiful as the first day she stormed onto my ranch in that ridiculous wedding dress, sinking her fancy shoes into the mud and cursing me under her breath. I didn’t know what hit me then. Hell, I still don’t, but I’m smart enough to know I don’t want to live a day without her.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Mrs. Walker,” I tell her, my voice low.
Her lips curl into a slow, teasing smile. “Oh, I know.”
Cameron stirs in her arms, making a tiny noise that’s somewhere between a coo and a grunt. Layla’s attention snaps back to her, her face lighting up in a way that does something to my chest every damn time.
“She’s perfect,” Layla whispers, brushing her lips over Cameron’s forehead.
“She’s you,” I say simply, because it’s true. Cameron has her mother’s stubborn chin, her dark eyes, and the same quiet fire that burns in everything Layla does.
“And you,” she argues softly, glancing at me.
Carson interrupts, his voice loud and confident. “She’s us!”
Layla laughs, and it’s the kind of sound that wraps itself around me and doesn’t let go.
“Damn right, buddy,” I say, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “She’s all of us.”
The sun dips lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Layla leans back, settling Cameron against her shoulder, and gives me that look—the one that’s half challenge, half invitation.
“You’re getting soft, Walker,” she says, her voice full of mischief.
I snort. “You bring a baby into the world and see how tough you feel.”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re still plenty grumpy,” she teases, her grin wide and knowing.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and narrowing my eyes at her. “Yeah, but I’m your grump.”
Her cheeks flush, and I see the spark of something deeper in her gaze. It’s the same look she gave me the first time I kissed her, the first time I told her I loved her, and every moment since.
“Damn right, you are,” she murmurs, her voice dropping just enough to make my pulse jump. “The grumpy cowboy that stole my heart.”
Carson yawns, and I take that as my cue. Standing, I scoop him up with one arm, eliciting a squeal of protest.
“Bedtime, kiddo,” I announce, carrying him toward the door.
“But Daddy—” he starts, but his protests are cut off by another yawn.
“No buts. You can read her your dinosaur book tomorrow.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, though the smile tugging at his lips gives him away.
Layla watches us with an expression I can’t quite place, her arms tightening around Cameron. It’s gratitude, maybe, or something bigger. Something I’m still learning how to deserve.