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“Snow and Christmas lights and most important, us. All three of us.”

He still held her close, and they’d both sort of stopped swaying, though people danced around them, happy and oblivious.

“About that,” Shane murmured. “I want to be the one to run it by Micah, or at least have us do it together, but I also don’t want to get his hopes up because the legality of it might be tricky.”

“Is this something underhanded, Shane Tyler?” she teased, having no idea where he was going with this sudden change of mood.

“No, afraid not.”

He was so sober, so serious, something in her heart shifted. Worry wiggled through her, but not heavy enough to befear. Whatever Shane was talking about, they’d get through it.

“I want to adopt Micah. I want us all to be Tylers. I mean, we all will be no matter what. Don’t get me wrong on that. But it’d be a nice symbol. The name.”

She wasn’t sure she breathed for a minute. Maybe more. She knew Shane would be an amazing stepfather, the kind who said no and gave advice, just as Micah had said. But she hadn’t even thought about . . . hadn’t considered . . .

“If it’s okay?” he continued, clearly reading her shock as worry. “I thought—”

“It’s okay. I mean, it might be tricky,” she squeaked. “Hell, it might be impossible, but it’s more than okay that we give it a shot.”

He grinned. “Either way, I’ll be a great dad to that kid.”

“I know.” She reached up and cupped his face. “I know.” She brushed her mouth across his. “Oh, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Howwegot so lucky,” Shane corrected, holding her close.

And he was absolutely right.