“I know. But my feet hurt,” I wince.
“Let’s get you home and in the bath.” Ford grabs my hand and squeezes it. “You two need to hit the road.”
“Gee, thanks,” Camilla laughs.
I look up at my man and silently ask him if I can start the plan we’ve talked about since yesterday afternoon. He winks.
“I want to invite the two of you to our house this weekend,” I say, trying to quell the burst of excitement in my belly. “I’m going to make dinner and would like you all to come.”
“You do realize there are a bunch of us, right?” Sienna laughs. “You’re cooking for us all?”
“Yup.”
“Even Mom usually hires a caterer at this point,” Camilla giggles.
“I want to do it,” I say fervently. “And I’d love for you to be there.”
“Only if I can come early and help.” Camilla pulls me into a hug. “I don’t want you stressing my little niece out.”
“Wait,” Sienna says, holding a hand up. “It’s a girl?”
“We don’t know,” Ford says. I elbow him in the gut and he winces.
Sienna’s brows pull together as she assesses the situation in front of her. “You guys know something. What is it?”
“It’s a secret,” I say, giving Ford a look to be quiet. “One that you can be in on if you come to dinner on Saturday.”
“Count me in,” Camilla says.
“You,” Ford says, pointing at his blonde sister, “can only find out if you bring whoever it is you’re seeing.”
Cam sighs, rolling her eyes. “Stop it.”
“I’m being serious.”
“No, he’s not,” I say. “Of course, he’s welcome, whoever he is. But you can come without him.”
“Just bring him, Cam,” Sienna gripes. “I’m tired of being in the middle about this.”
“I can’t.” Camilla’s voice is a clear warning to her twin to tread lightly. “You know I can’t.”
“You can. You just won’t.” Sienna gives Ford and I quick hugs and heads to the front door, Cam at her heels. “I’ll see you Saturday, I guess.”
“Bye, guys,” I call out.
As the door closes, I nearly fall backwards into Ford’s arms. I yelp as he picks me up, my legs dangling over one of his powerful arms, and look into his handsome face.
Just looking at him makes me smile. Not because he’s my husband or so incredibly good-looking with his sun-kissed skin and rugged jawline, but because of what I see buried in those blue eyes.
It could be described as love. Maybe respect. There’s a possibility it could be lust. But I think it’s more than that. It’s the look of forever.
“I love you,” I whisper to him, my hand finding the side of his face. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”
He grins. “Pinky swear?”
“Pinky swear.”
The End