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It feels like I’m living in a fairy tale.

Brody glances over at me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Mrs. Thorne?”

I laugh, still giddy from everything that just happened. “I was just thinking…do you want to play some slots? You can’t get married in Vegas and not hit the casino at least once.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m not much of a gambling man, Tasha.”

I raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Oh, really? Because you definitely took a gamble on me.”

He laughs, his deep, warm chuckle making my heart flutter. “All right, you’ve convinced me. Let’s go see if our luck holds up.”

Hand in hand, we walk through the glittering lights of The Strip, ready to take on whatever comes next. Because no matter where we are, as long as I’m with Brody, I know I’ve already hit the jackpot.

Epilogue

Brody

It’s been just a little over a year and a half since our sudden Vegas wedding, and life has changed in ways I never could have imagined.

The babies are almost eight months old now, and our lives have turned into a constant blur of diapers, sleepless nights, and baby giggles.

I stand in the nursery, holding little Forrest against my chest as he fusses softly. He’s the hardest to get to sleep, but something about me holding him makes him calm down, and I can’t describe what that feels like.

It was the same for Josh too, but raising Josh as a single dad was a cakewalk compared to three on two.

I’m thankful to have been a father before. I don’t know how I would’ve handled the learning curve as anewparent.

Tasha took to it like a natural, and most of the time, I’m just in awe of her as a mother.

She’s the best mother I’ve ever seen, and I’m so proud she’s the mother of my children.

The winter wind howls outside, but in here, it’s warm and peaceful.

I glance over at Tasha, standing in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection. She’s wearing one of my old flannel shirts, the brown and green pattern complimenting her coloring. Her hair up in a messy bun, and she’s absolutely beautiful.

Still, I can see the worry lines on her face as she pulls at her shirt, fretting over imaginary stretch marks that I can barely even see.

“Tasha, stop picking at yourself,” I tell her as I bounce Forest gently in my arms. “You’re gorgeous, stretchmarks or not.”

With a half-hearted smile, she turns to me, her eyes still clouded with self-doubt. The lines on her brow flicker in the orange light of the fire.

“I just don’t feel like myself anymore,” she murmurs.

I approach her, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. “Well, I think you’re perfect,” I say, my voice low and sincere.

I glance down at the matching bassinets where our two little girls, Rose and Lily, are finally sleeping.

Seeing their tiny faces fills me with a pride I never knew was possible. Rose has an adorable pink unicorn onesie on, while her sister is dressed in purple floral.

Tasha finally stops fussing in front of the mirror and walks over to where I’m placing Forrest in his blue bassinet, kissing his little forehead. There’s something so grounding about moments like this. It’s just us, our babies, and the quiet hum of the ranch around us.

Tasha stands close beside me, watching our son drift off to sleep. She sighs as she picks up a thick textbook from the side table next to the crib.

The steely determination in her eyes is something I’ve always admired, even more so now that she’s balancing motherhood with her studies.

She’s back in college part-time, filled with determination to finish her Business degree.

“Time to hit the books?” I ask.