Page 29

I shift slightly on the velvet sofa tucked into the back corner of the record shop. It’s not as new as the day we brought it into the store, but that makes it better somehow, like it’s a living story that’s been here with us over the past five years. The cushions remember conversations had by folks in town after a long day’s work, and it remembers moments of my life.

Ghost settles in next to me, stretching his arm behind my back. The shop isn’t open today, but we’re here hanging out and unpacking a few boxes of records we bought at a flea market last weekend. His giant hand rubs over my expanded stomach. “How are my girls feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here. You think we’re about done for the day? My back is starting to ache.”

He nods and turns toward me, brushing his hand back through his thick, graying hair. “Yeah, but ugh… you still love it here, baby girl? You’re not bored, are you?”

I narrow my brows and push my lips to the side. “Bored? What? No. How could I be bored?”

“You never know. You were bored as hell when I met you. Maybe you’re feeling it again.”

I shake my head and twist toward him. “I could never get bored with you and our family. You’ve had me laid out in thegarden, eating my pussy after midnight. Who does that?” I wet my lips and lean into his chest. “Besides, Tyler and Betsy are a handful. How does someone get bored with two kids under three?”

“Okay.” He exhales and holds my head against his chest. “I just love you. I don’t ever want to do any of this without you.”

“Same. It’s crazy when I think about how lucky I am that you rescued me from myself. I’d probably be heading to the diner again tonight if you hadn’t.”

Ghost squeezes me closer. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a bulldozer.”

“And I’m thankful for that.” I nestle in closer as the outside light turns golden, slanting through the dust-speckled windows. “I like that you bulldozed your way in. You even planted flowers once you got here.”

He sighs hopelessly. “Oh, dear God, she’s getting poetic again.”

I grin. “You started it!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever started a poem a day in my life.”

“Well, you started the one in my heart.” I can’t keep a straight face. Apparently, our little girl can’t either, because she’s suddenly kicking hard against something uncomfortable that I can’t identify. This is our third kid, and I still marvel at the way a woman’s body creates life. I mean, how is there an actual human life inside of me?

Growing. Kicking. Breathing.

“We really need a name for this little girl,” he groans, rubbing his hand in circles as though he’s chasing the baby’s feet.

“I think we should put it up for a vote tonight after we pick the kids up from the clubhouse.”

“And let two kids under three decide the name of their sister?” He shakes his head. “We should just name her Lily ‘cause we like it.”

I really do like the name Lily. It’s sweet, beautiful, and I can already hear myself hollering for her to come inside for dinner after playing with Tyler and Betsy in the yard behind the cabin.

I love that cabin.It’s a hand-built place with a creek running behind it. In the summer, there are all kinds of wildflowers in bloom, and in the fall, the leaves turn gold and red. The guys from the clubhouse met up with Rugged Mountain MC and they worked together to get the place built by our first fall as a couple. We even married on that property. It’s hard to believe that was four years ago. Ghost wore his cut and a pair of dark wash jeans. Sienna found me this cute little white dress with lace on the hem. We handpicked our own flowers, and the guys from the clubhouse wove a wooden arch together. It was simple, but it was everything we needed, and I love how it represented the growth and integration the guys have had with the other folks on the mountain.

“Let’s name her Lily,” I finally say, cuddling into his leather scented warmth.

Ghost tugs Grandma’s blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it over me gently. I swear its frayed edges and pink circles with green squares have been the good luck charm of the shop. That, or maybe it’s the banana bread we bake once a week. Either way, people can’t get enough of the after school special here at Grandma’s Records.

Ghost tucks the blanket beneath my chin, and I breathe in the scent of lavender and cherry cough drops infused into the yarn. “I think Grandma had a hand in all of this, don’t you think?” I glance around at the mismatched records hanging on the wall, the houseplants bending toward the windows, and thepictures the kids drew and left taped to the front door. The shop really is like a scene from her living room after school. “I like to think Grandma brought you to me too.”

He grins that coy smile that I can’t get enough of. The one that says something good is on the way. “Oh, I don’t think Grandma would approve of the things I do to you.”

My cheeks heat. “I don’t know. I think Grandma had a wild side. Plus, she’d be happy you found me and woke me up.”

His hand finds mine. “Oh yeah? Well, you woke me up too. Who the hell knows where I’d be without you?”

I roll my eyes to the side with a playful tone in my voice as I say, “Umm… probably obsessed with some hit you know deep down you shouldn’t take.”

He laughs. “You’re trouble.”

“Only for you!”