She shook her head. “But how do I know? How do I know this isn’t going to be another heartbreaking, terrifying waste of time?”
“Was last night a waste of your time?” he asked softly. “Because it certainly wasn’t a waste of mine. In fact, it was one of the best nights of my life. I went to bed holding a beautiful, funny, sweet woman, feeling like I’d finally found the person who was meant just for me.”
She sniffed, but the tears in her eyes were already streaming down her cheeks. “I felt that way, too. And I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. With you.”
“Then stay,” he said, reaching for her. “Stay with me and let’s prove that love isn’t a fairy tale.”
With a happy sob, she threw herself into his arms and he held her tight, the strength in his grip making her certain he was never going to let her go.
“Now close up your pants!” a man’s voice called from behind them, inspiring a wave of laughter from the runners gathered near the start of the course.
“No rush on that, sweetheart,” a woman’s voice called, earning a second, louder round of laughter.
Yasmin pulled away from Noah long enough for him to close up his britches, but then she was right back in his arms, hugging him tight. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said.
“Even if I ran a background check on you?”
He hugged her closer. “Nope. You should have run a background check. I want you to be safe.”
“It came back clean,” she said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You’re apparently a complete Boy Scout.”
He lifted a sexy brow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
She grinned. “Well, you do have a naughty side. But even that has an air of boy-scoutish-ness about it. I would award you a few badges for excellence if you know what I mean.”
“I’m flattered,” he said, eyes glittering. “So are we good?”
“We’re good,” she said, sighing happily. “Though my parents are going to think I’m crazy for telling them to sic Sampson on you in the morning and informing them that you’re moving in in the afternoon.”
He wrinkled his nose. “No, they won’t. Your mom already told me that as long as I make you happy, she’s willing to help me get on Sampson’s good side.”
Yasmin laughed. “It’s never going to happen, O’Sullivan.”
“I don’t know,” Noah said. “I’m starting to believe in miracles. Or at least extremely fortuitous coincidences.”
“Thank God for the screw up at the sperm bank?”
“No,” he said, gaze softening. “Thank God for you.”
And then Yasmin cried a little and laughed a little and she and Noah decided to run the mud run in their street clothes because it seemed like the thing to do. And when they were done, they collected two of the coolest Mud Run tee shirts in the history of Lonesome Point and went home to shower together. But thankfully, by the time Li-Mei and Frank came to meet Yasmin’s new boyfriend, they were both dressed and sitting out on the new deck furniture, admiring the view from their corner of paradise.
And it was paradise. On that day and every day after.
EPILOGUE
Noah
Three years later
Isaiah Benedict O’Sullivan—Izzyto his friends and family—was born under a lucky star, on the fourth calendar day in the year of the rat, just like his mother. And like his mother, Izzy was clever and kind and had a mischievous streak a mile wide. But unlike Yasmin, or his unlucky-with-poultry father, the boy was a natural born chicken wrangler. From the moment he could walk, it became clear that the reign of rooster terror would end in his lifetime.
Now, as Noah watched the two-year-old toddle around his grandmother’s section of the petting zoo, with Sampson the Sixth tucked firmly under one arm and a slightly dusty binkie in the other, he couldn’t help but admire how completely in his element his son seemed.
“It’s happening today,” Yasmin whispered, coming to stand at his elbow. “The last binkie is getting lost and never found.”
Noah winced. His son loved his pacifier—his binkie—with a passion he reserved for very few things. Izzy was a sweet-tempered, even-keeled kid, but get between him and his binkie and sparks flew.