Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“I love you, Jo. More than I ever thought I could love someone. You and Justice are my home.” His voice drops to a whisper, thick with emotion. “Marry me.”
A choked sob escapes me, but I shake my head—frantic, disbelieving. “Oh my God.”
His face falters, but before he can say another word, I grab his hand, pressing it flat against my stomach.
“You’re gonna be a dad.”
Dean stills, his entire body freezing, his breath hitching as his eyes snap to mine. A beat passes, and then his throat works on a swallow, his other hand coming up to cradle my face. When his gaze meets mine again, it’s glassy with unshed tears. “You’re serious?”
A watery laugh bubbles out of me as I nod, emotion overwhelming me. “Yeah, Dean. I’m serious. I came in here to tell Jonah. But I really should tell you first. We have a baby on the way, Dean.”
A strangled sound escapes him, part laugh, part choked breath, before he pulls me into his arms with Jonah’s urn between us, holding onto me like he never wants to let go. His arms loosen around me, I set Jonah back down on the nightstand to move him back to the shelf while Dean stares at me in awe.
“Thank you for not wanting to shut Jonah out for Justice and for me.”
“Jo, you have given me the best gift in the world, your love, Justice, and our baby. I wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for his sacrifice. I can never replace him or repay him, but I can live my every breath to make sure he’s not forgotten while loving you and building our life together.”
And I know, without a doubt, I’ll never want him to let go. Ever.
Epilogue
Raff
Tennessee Whiskey – Chris Stapleton
* * *
I gaze in the rear-view mirror of Josie’s SUV as I pull into the driveway. My hands steady on the wheel while my heart is anything but. I glance to the rear seat, where Jo sits beside the car seat cradling our brand-new baby girl, Journey. She’s wrapped in a soft pink blanket, her tiny face barely visible beneath the fabric.
Jo looks up at me, exhaustion and happiness mingling in her eyes. “We’re home,” she whispers, a soft smile on her lips.
Home. It’s never been just a place—it’s them. Josie, Justice, and now Journey. My whole world packed into one truck.
I hop out, rounding the front to open her door, then gently take Journey from her arms so Jo can climb down. She moves slower than usual, the toll of childbirth still evident in the way she winces just slightly. I kiss her temple, murmuring, “Got you, mama.”
I hold Journey close as we walk toward the house. She’s so small, her weight barely noticeable in my arms, but she carries the gravity of something life changing. Jo moves beside me, a hand resting lightly on my arm as if grounding herself.
As I step inside, Danae is already in the living room, her suitcase in the corner. She flew in from Arkansas the second she heard Jo was in labor, determined to be here to help. Her sharp green eyes soften when she sees Journey in my arms.
“She’s perfect,” Danae says, brushing a gentle hand over the baby’s head. “Good job, Josie Mosie.”
Jo snorts. “Tell my body that. I feel like I got run over.”
Danae laughs. “That’s what happens when you push a human out of your body. But hey, you survived.”
Before Danae can respond, a familiar voice interrupts. “Damn, I was just coming to check in, but I didn’t know there’d be a welcome committee.”
Miles leans against the doorway, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. His eyes flick to Danae, and something shifts in his expression. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”
Danae crosses her arms, unimpressed, but her eyes dance with something different. “I could say the same about you.”
There is something here I can’t read between them. And they should be strangers.
Miles grins, clearly unbothered by her attitude. “You’re feisty. I like that.”
Danae rolls her eyes. “Not interested.”
Miles chuckles, undeterred. “We’ll see.”
I shake my head, focusing back on what matters. Setting Journey in her bassinet, I turn to Justice, who’s been watching everything unfold from the couch. His big brown eyes flick from the baby to me, uncertainty written all over his face.
“Hey, buddy.” I kneel in front of him. “Come here.”
He hesitates but slides off the couch, standing in front of me. I rest my hands on his shoulders, making sure he’s really listening. “She’s your little sister, and yeah, things are gonna be different now. But you? You’re my first kid. That doesn’t change. And what we do, guy time, it’s still our time, you and me.”
His lower lip wobbles, and I can see the emotions swirling in his head. “You still love me the same?” he asks, his voice small.