“Landon’s always had a good heart.” She loses her smile. “Too bad he had to go and marry that stripper who broke it. Good heavens, she and her bedazzled vagina were awful.”
I laugh. I don’t tell her Landon probably thought he’d scored big time. Instead I fill her in on my talk with her daddy as my fingers leave her face to smooth over Cal’s soft curls. “Owen wants me to help spearhead the charity, oversee construction, and talk to some of the vets. He’s hoping between the two of us, plus some of the boys from the V.A., we can figure out who’s home is in need of repair, or who doesn’t have one so we can build it for him—or her.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I told him I would. He mentioned I’d have to travel with him some, but that you and Cal would come with us if any trips required an overnight stay.”
“Momma would have to come, too,” she says.
“Of course she would. After all our time in the Corps, she misses you.”
“I’ve missed her, too.” She adjusts her weight, a hint of something sparkling her eyes. “Although you have to admit, Papua was fun.” She dances her eyebrows. “And more romantic than Ecuador, don’t you think?”
“It was,” I agree. Which is why Trin was already six months pregnant by the time our term in the Peace Corps was up. Yeah, I joined, too. I was already there, and figured this way I could help, too.
“It’s good to be home, though,” I say, meaning it down to my bones. “I want to set down some roots, and maybe give Cal a brother or sister to play with.”
“I’d like that.” She sighs, thoughtfully. “This way, both our babies will be walking by the time Hale and Becca get married.”
“Trin,” I warn.
“Two little ring bearers?Or maybe a ring bearer and a flower girl. Doesn’t matter which, really. Either will be cute, don’t you think?”
“Trin,” I insist. “Hale and Becca haven’t seen each other in years.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter, hon,” she says, dismissively. “When it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.” She glances down at our little bundle. “Speaking of which, guess who’s asleep?”
I shake my head and lift Cal junior carefully, knowing his momma’s up to no good, and knowing there’s nothing anyone can say to stop her. With a wink her way, I carry our son into his room, taking a moment to kiss his head before I lower him to his crib and cover him with a blanket.
When I return to our room, I’m half-expecting Trin to be on her laptop, online shopping for Becca’s wedding dress.
Instead I find my beautiful wife perched on the edge of our bed, leaning back on her hands, her dark hair falling behind her, her legs crossed, and the clothes she was wearing in a pile by her feet.
“Hey,” she says, pegging me with a heat-filled gaze that never dwindles and always proves how bad she wants me. “Ready to report for booty call, soldier?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I strip out of my shirt and toss it, kissing her hard as I lower myself on top of her.
It’s been three years since Trin swept into my life. Yet she’s still as kind and strong as ever, still loving, still gentle. She’s everything I desire, and all the woman I’ll ever need.
She’s my forever. And forever, y’all, has never sounded so sweet.
