Page 56

T he ground was colder than I expected for early spring and my boots sank little into the thawing earth of our land behind the house.

I unrolled the blueprints on my truck's tailgate, weighing one corner down with my tape measure.

I stood there and admired what we'd designed: a twelve-stall barn with an attached four-bedroom, three-bathroom apartment.

All to be built over our emergency shelter, of course.

I took a step back to stare at the field again; the concrete foundation contrasted starkly against the earth. I knew it didn't look like much yet but it would be huge. Our success built this, and it would shelter anyone who needed it.

Behind me, I heard Sloane crunch through the dirt, steady and familiar. I turned to see her carrying two mugs, steam curling from the tops, her hair tied back in that quick, no-nonsense way that always made her look so damn sexy.

She handed me one without a word, and I took it, letting the heat soak into my hands .

"This'll be the north wall," I said, pointing toward the open stretch of land. "We can frame big windows here and add a bonus room. So if Violet or Liam ever want to move out here… they won't feel like they're living in a shed."

I glanced at her, half-waiting for a smile or a quip. She looked at the space like she could already see it, sunlight pouring through the stained windows, maybe an art study in the corner, bookshelves, and a desk covered in baby chicks.

"That sound okay to you?" I asked.

She smiled then. "Yeah. It does. A second home away from home."

That word still hit me sometimes: home. I used to take it for granted and now we built it with our hands and filled it with love, every single day.

We'd started this farm with the investment profits I made from the pandemic, the subsequent shutdowns, and the inevitable rebound.

We'd discussed it quietly amongst ourselves and eventually with the children.

Knew that we would grow it piece by piece.

First vegetables, then chickens. We could sell eggs at the local market or in a farm box we could set outside.

Over time, the rest of the farm would come together.

Including the bees.

That was Violet's idea. She mentioned it in passing, something about pollination and sustainability.

She talked about the bees relying on pollen from our veggies and fruit trees when it was warm, the wax to make candles if we chose to.

Her idea invigorated Sloane and me. Honestly, I didn't expect to fall in love with it.

There's something humbling about bees as they work quietly, constantly helping each other, always moving together.

Maybe I can learn from them .

Liam had suggested we plant flowers, and as a family, we searched for ones that spoke to us.

After much discussion, we settled on purple hyacinths, Texas bluebonnets, lilacs, marigolds, zinnias, and roses.

Together, we dove into researching which would thrive best in the soil of our yard versus the protection of a greenhouse.

What began as a simple idea gradually blossomed into a full-fledged family project, filling our home with laughter, shared purpose, and conversations that carried on from morning to night.

Staring at the tilled earth before me, I glanced over to Sloane, noting the faded hoodie and work jeans, as she squinted at the field.

She was beautiful, inside and out. She didn't know it, but every time she looked at something we'd built and nodded like that, like it was good .

It felt like she chose us all over again; a life together.

"Dawn says all the kids are doing great by the way. Amber slept through the night." She pulled out a sketchbook and handed it to me, "Thoughts?"

"You still thinking navy for the barn doors?" I asked, thumbing through our drawings after placing my mug down.

"I was thinking daisy yellow."

I laughed, "Yellow? That's mighty bold."

She shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Yeah, well… maybe I want to be bold." Then she smiled, quick and unexpected, the sun catching her face just right as I felt the air get knocked out of my chest.

Without thinking, I reached down and laced my fingers through hers.

We weren't just building a barn. We were building something that could hold us, all of us. A place for Amber, Violet and Liam to return to, a place that could grow old with us, and a place where everyone could be safe .

"I hope this place does well enough for us to keep it for the grandkids," I said, half-joking, half-not.

She grinned, her eyes a little far away now. "You're assuming a lot."

"I like assuming," I said.

Her soft laugh curled around me. "Little feet again… running and playing through the mud. God, I'd love to see that."

I turned toward her, a teasing edge in my voice. "We could work on that, if you want." My fingers traced a slow, familiar pattern up her arm. "If you really want."

She tilted her face up to mine, eyes sparkling. "Why don't we go back inside… and you show me?"

I chuckled, already rolling up the plans and closing the sketchbook. "I am but a servant to your desires, my love."

We left the truck and walked the mile back home, our trip filled with jokes and banter.

Slipping through the side of the house, I kissed her in the mudroom, the taste of coffee lingering on her lips as we fumbled like teenagers, then giggled our way toward the bedroom.

Behind us, Rufus let out a whine, a soft protest lost beneath our laughter.

Sloane pulled away long enough to glance back. "He's judging us," she said, grinning as she took off her socks mid-step.

"He's jealous," I said, catching her around the waist and spinning her as we stumbled into the hallway. "He wishes he had someone to slow-dance with in the mornings."

"Slow-dance?" she snorted. "This feels more like a stampede."

We bumped into the wall with a thud that knocked a picture frame crooked, the photo a recent family shot of all of us with Amber, the newest addition, in the middle. Sloane burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as we toppled into another corner .

"Okay, okay," I said, pretending to steady us like we stood on a ship. "Next time, ballroom shoes."

"And a helmet," she added, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the bedroom. In a way, it felt like our first time all over again: no kids, no past, no regrets. Just us, together, breathless and giddy and alive in that moment as everything slowed.

The world spun for only us.

The laughter quieted to soft smiles, and our footsteps fell into a gentle rhythm; a dance only we knew. The morning light streamed through the curtains in pale gold, gilding the bedroom.

Her fingers found mine, and she spun into my arms, resting her head against my chest. I swayed us without music, letting the rhythm of our breathing lead. My hand brushed the small of her back, tracing the familiar curve.

"You still remember how to lead," she whispered, voice delicate.

"I never forgot," I murmured, dipping my head to kiss her temple.

We moved like that for a while, quiet, slow, present. No rush, no urgency. Simply the weight of her against me, warm and real.

Slowly, we undressed each other, each piece of clothing dropped to the floor like a layer of distance falling away.

I slipped her hoodie off her as she helped me with my shirt.

Her hands slid across my skin with the kind of tenderness that undid me, far more than any words could, before we fell into the bed.

"I want to try something," Sloane whispered against my neck.

My interest sparked. "I'm all ears."

She scrambled off the bed with a sudden burst of energy, heading straight for the closet. I heard shuffling, the creak of a box lid, then the unmistakable crinkle of plastic wrap.

"Jesus, Sloane… what did you get?" I asked, already half-laughing .

"You'll see!" she called over her shoulder, her voice sing-song and mischievous.

I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting, trying to imagine what on earth she would bring out.

I thought of the two dozen different toys for her we'd discussed trying next, and I wondered which she'd purchased.

When she finally turned around, she had something hidden behind her back and a sparkle in her eye.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be. Is it the new collar and leash we've talked about?"

"No, that's on back order."

She revealed it with a flourish; a soft, unmistakable toy. A flesh light.

I blinked. "Is that…?"

"I ordered one of those custom kits," she said with a wicked grin. "I sent off the mold, and they returned it to match my uh… likeness."

I stared. "You're kidding."

For a flicker of a second, doubt flashed in her eyes, "Are you upse-"

I broke into full-blown laughter, clutching my stomach. "Sloane," I managed between laughs, "this is definitely… something we could've talked about first!"

She turned fire-engine red. "I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"Oh, it's a surprise alright."

She pouted. "Hopefully a good surprise?"

"You bet. So," I said, catching my breath and nodding toward the toy still in her hand, "you want to use it... together or solo?"

Her fingers tightened slightly on the base, and for the first time, I noticed a hint of nerves beneath her boldness. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly shy.

"Together," she said softly, then looked up at me, uncertain. "If that's alright? "

I reached out, curled my fingers around her wrist and tugged her gently toward the bed. "Sloane," I said, voice low, "anything you want is alright. You think I'll turn down the opportunity to explore you in 4D?"

She let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head. "That's not how it works, but points for enthusiasm."

I kissed the inside of her wrist, holding her gaze. "You wanted it to be a surprise. Mission accomplished. But more than that… I love that you felt safe enough to share it with me."