Page 2 of Hampton Holiday Collective

He hugs me for a few more seconds, then shifts forward, breaking us out of our reverie and reminding me of all the places we have to be today.

“I would stay in this bed and hold you all day if I could, beautiful, but I’ll also blame you for making us late if you don’t dismount. I can’t be held responsible for what happens if you keep straddling me like this.” He tries to playfully tilt his hips forward, his erection pressing against my center, but a sharp hiss has him freezing in place.

I scramble out of his lap, then offer a hand to pull him to his feet.

“Come on, old man,” I tease. He’s slow to rise, placing both hands on his low back and gingerly stretching with a grunt.

“Seriously,” I scold, eyeing my shirtless husband up and down appreciatively while trying to maintain a stern expression. “Chiropractor. Next week. That’s not a request.”

Chapter 2

Rhett

Aroarofapplauseechoes through the greenhouse as Tori concludes the awards ceremony. I beam with pride—I can’t fucking help it—as she’s swarmed by volunteers and a few reporters on stage.

Shifting in the flimsy garden chair, I sit straighter in hopes of finding some semblance of relief from the aching pressure in my low back. It feels better to stand than to sit, and the pain gets worse throughout the day—I’ll probably have to suck it up and make an appointment to have it looked at next week.

I pull my phone out and snap a few photos, capturing my gorgeous wife in her element. People love talking to Tori—they flock to her authenticity and glow in her orbit.

I know the feeling.

It’s not often I get to sit back and admire her like this. In her element, surrounded by colleagues and peers.

When she looks at someone, it’s like they’re the only person in the room—in the world. She’s executive vice president of operations these days. I won’t be surprised when the board of the New Hope Foundation names her executive director in the coming years.

Tori’s vision and her dedication to reaching as many kids as possible is the entire reason the organization is in Norfolk—and Atlanta and Dallas and St. Louis and Houston and San Diego. They’re set to hold their first camp in Vancouver next summer, making the New Hope Foundation an international organization.

My phone vibrates in my hand as I rise to stand. Buttoning the front of my suit jacket, I give a courtesy nod to the other people seated at the table and excuse myself before heading to the back of the greenhouse.

Fuck. My back feels like it has its own pulse.

More than anything, I need a solid surface to stand against.

Eventually, I find an empty wall to lean on, rolling out my shoulders and subtly arching and rounding my back to try and ease the pain. Glancing down at my phone, I grin, then swipe up to open the message from my sister.

Maddie: 28 weeks today! The babies are supposedly two pounds each. Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better about the thirty pounds I’ve gained so far.

I love these weekly updates. And the accompanying photos Dempsey takes of her growing stomach. Seeing my sister pregnant is a trip. Witnessing the way her petite frame changes to accommodate not one but two gigantic Haas offspring is something else.

Rhett: You look amazing, Maddie Girl. How are you feeling?

Maddie: Exhausted. Anxious. Pissed off that I married a man who’s not only 6’2” but also a twin.

I chuckle at her expense. My back hurts just looking at her latest picture. I guess I shouldn’t complain.

Maddie: Happy birthday, by the way! Doing anything fun today?

Rhett: Tori and I both have work events, so I wouldn’t exactly call it fun.

I send off a picture of the greenhouse, followed by another I took of Tori on stage.

I’m still focused on my phone, waiting for Maddie’s response, when a featherlight touch along the collar of my shirt grabs my attention and sends tingles down my spine.

“Hey, you,” Tori greets, sinking her body into my side.

“You were fantastic,” I praise, squeezing her against me with one arm and kissing her hair.

She hums in reply, a soothing sound that blossoms from her chest and warms my insides with its familiarity and ease.