Page 26

Willa

The farmhouse was louder than usual.

Not with people—just with life . The kind that hums through your bones in the best way.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon rolls, wildflowers bloomed outside the window, and Pancake was currently trying to shove her head into the laundry basket I’d just folded.

“Get out of there, you menace,” I muttered, gently nudging her with my knee.

She snorted at me and then bleated like I was the problem.

Nate walked in a second later, sweaty from the garage, a smudge of grease on his jaw and a smile that made my heart hiccup.

“Did Pancake eat the burp cloths again?”

“She’s thinking about it,” I said, rubbing my very-round belly.

Nate crossed the kitchen and dropped to one knee in front of me. He pressed a kiss to my stomach, then one to the inside of my wrist, and finally stood to cup my face with both hands.

“You okay?” he asked. “Still feeling that weird pressure?”

I nodded. “She’s just active today. Or mad I wouldn’t let her eat pickles for breakfast.”

Nate grinned. “She’s definitely yours.”

“She kicked you in the ribs at three a.m.,” I said with a smirk.

“Still worth it.”

The door swung open and Axel walked in, carrying a box of baby supplies and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I swear, if one more person calls me ‘Uncle Axel,’ I’m moving to Canada,” he muttered, dropping the box by the door.

“She’s not even born yet,” I said. “Calm down.”

“Tell that to Grandma Hayes. She’s already crocheting a tiny goat cape. I don’t know what that’s for, and I’m scared to ask.”

“She said it’s for the ‘Goat and Baby Welcome Parade,’ ” Nate added helpfully.

Axel looked physically pained.

But before he could escape, Maggie sauntered in behind him, sunglasses on, latte in hand, and smirk firmly in place. I’m so happy we bought a place up here.

She looked at Axel. “You forgot the organic wipes.”

Axel’s jaw ticked. “They’re just baby wipes, Maggie.”

“They are not . I’m not putting chemical garbage on my niece’s butt.”

“She’s not even born yet—”

“Which is exactly why we’re planning ahead .”

I looked at Nate. He looked at me. We both grinned.

Some things never change. And thank God for that.

Later that night, after everyone had left and the house was quiet, I curled into Nate’s arms on the porch swing.

The stars stretched endlessly above us. Fireflies blinked through the grass. Pancake snored softly in her usual spot near the steps.

“I never thought I’d get all this,” I whispered.

Nate kissed the top of my head. “I never thought I’d deserve it.”

“You always did,” I said. “You just had to find your way home.”

He placed a hand over my belly, feeling our daughter shift beneath his palm. “You are home.”

And just like that—under the stars, wrapped in love, laughter, and the scent of cinnamon rolls and goat fur—I knew we were ready.

For anything.

Forever had officially begun.