I groan, trailing kisses down her neck. “Someday, you’re gonna run out of lion references.”
She pushes her lips to the side as I find her collarbone. “Maybe. I’m just testing them all out to see which one fits.” I nip at her skin. “Although Slade is pretty liony sounding.”
“Good. Let’s stick with that.”
She hooks me with her legs. “Don’t worry, you big beast. I am definitely sticking with you.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
SLADE
“Where in the hell is this supposed to go?” Trig holds up a six-inch bolt.
Carson snatches it from his hand and shoves it into his back pocket. “Would you go find something else to do?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Trig heads toward the house and grabs a beer from the cooler. He plops down in a lawn chair beside Wind, who’s manning the grill amongst an array of balloons and a Happy Birthday banner.
“Swade, catch.” Ollie throws a ball, and I extend my arm above me to keep it from going over my head. He holds his mitt out, and I lob it back. It bounces off the edge of his glove, and Grover snatches it.
“No, Gro-ver. Drop,” he says, carefully enunciating each word.
Over the past months, Ollie has made amazing progress with his speech. He still stutters when he gets excited or tired, but he’s doing so well.
“Are you finally going to get the balls and do it? It would be an excellent birthday gift to yourself.” Carson pulls the drill from his tool belt and screws in one side of a plank.
I start on the latter. “I’m getting to it. Just shut your yap and worry about your plans.” He’s not wrong. It would be a nice distraction from my birthday altogether.
“G-getting to what?” Ollie asks, tossing the ball with one hand and trying to catch it with the other.
I glare at Carson.
“Now is a good time,” he says around a screw between his lips.
I’ll wipe that smartass look off his face as soon as we are alone.
I take a deep breath, setting my drill down. “Toss me that ball. Let me see what you got.”
Ollie takes a few steps back, and he throws it, using his whole body. I have to stretch, but I catch it.
“Love Bug incoming!” Sarah sticks her head out the back door and sets Frankie down.
Frankie takes off toward us, holding a large tube of bubbles.
“Aww. We’re playing catch. I don’t want to d-do bubbles.”
“Bubbles. Bubbles.” Frankie waves the tube at me, and I squat, taking it.
“Come here, partner. Let’s see how big we can make these,” I say, and Grover barks, ready to bite them.
I pull the sticky wand out and gently wave it in the air. Grover prances as Frankie tries to grab the mass of bubbles.
“These are small,” Ollie pouts, plopping down in the grass.
“Hey, can I ask you something, man to man?”
He looks up at me. “Yeah.”
