Page 55 of Somewhere Only We Know (Healing in Cincy #4)

“ E very hour?” The flower shop owner questions on the other end of the line.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I hear the clacking of keys and I assume it’s her putting my order in in-advanced.

My wife loves Valentine’s Day and I love my wife.

Does that love veer on obsession most days?

Absolutely. I’m obsessed with her drive, the way she is with our beautiful babies, how she manages her career and keeps the house afloat with the minimal amount of help we ask for, and I’m obsessed with the way she makes time for her friends.

I love so many versions of Jax. The wife, the mother, the sister, the friend, and the godmother.

So here I am in January placing an order for a bouquet of roses, tulips, and sunflowers to be delivered to the house every hour. Will she want to strangle me? Yes. But as long as she does it in the bedroom, I won’t complain.

“Okay. I can send you the invoice to the email you provided me and you’re all set, Mr. Holloway.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.”

A towel hits me and covers my face when I hang up. “Jax is going to kill you.” Bryce says from his spot at the squat rack.

“Kill me. Fuck me. Makes no difference to me.” I say and put my phone in the front pocket of my duffle bag.

Chance snorts from where he’s bench pressing.

I try to be sympathetic and not rub my marriage in his face.

Him and Sophie have been going through a rough patch.

If by rough patch, I mean sleeping at mine or Bryce’s house more than his own home.

I guess when you burn so bright in the beginning, the darkness seems like more of a nightmare.

He’s going into his fifteenth season playing and has decided that this will be his last. I can’t blame him for walking around with a chip on his shoulder.

Losing baseball and possibly his wife? I’d be acting the same way.

Although I’m not far behind him. But with baseball, not losing Jax.

I did that once and would not survive a second time.

We’re some of the oldest guys in the league.

I now have four kids with the love of my life who are getting more and more active.

Putting the school drop-offs and pick-ups, after school activities, and weekend tournaments on her is not us being equals in our marriage.

I told Jax that when I retire, I can’t wait to handle everything that she’s handled for the last five years. Plus, Samuel has been chomping at the bit to get me to coach his Little League team.

“Are you good, Chance?” I ask before moving onto the final round in our circuit.

He clears his throat and throws on a smirk that Bryce and I know is fake. “Yeah. All good.”

Bryce and I share a look before putting our heads down and finishing our workout.

An hour later we clean up and with an extended goodbye that our wives tease us over, I’m finally on the way home.

When it’s the weeks before spring training, with the house empty because the kids are at school, Jax and I have time to ourselves.

Most of the time we find ourselves napping.

Because with four kids under ten and in activities that keep the calendar busier than mine when I’m in season, Jax needs it.

But with the community we have around us, in our friends and family that have decided to make the move up here, the workload lightens when a bat signal is sent out.

Usually with a crying emoji or a plain “HELP!” text.

“Jaclyn?” I call out when I come in through the garage.

“Upstairs.” I hear distantly and grab a bottle of water from the fridge before taking the stairs two at a time and heading to my wife.

The walls leading upstairs are covered in a mix of family pictures and framed drawings the kids did from school.

Jax and I don’t quite have the heart to tell any of them that their artwork won’t see outside of the house.

Shoes are stacked on the stairs ready to be taken upstairs and jackets hang on the posts. It’s messy, but it’s home.

Turning the corner when I get up the stairs, I see her in all her beauty.

Ten years ago I thought she was stunning.

Hell, twenty years ago I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

And she was. She still is. But after four kids and a decade of dealing with my baseball schedule, she’s gotten breathtaking.

Her hair is still full and curly, she has smile lines and crinkles at the corners of her eyes from years of laughing at my jokes, and the hips I love to grip onto are fuller than they were back then. Even now, she’s still my dream woman.

“Enjoying the view?” She asks as she folds clothes from the pile of laundry on the table without turning around .

“Always.” I say and push off the doorframe and saunter towards her.

Jax still makes my heart flutter. We still date.

We still laugh. We still do everything we did before we had kids, but with a bit of scheduling.

I kiss and nibble on her neck and then move to the side. “Have you talked with Sophie?”

Jax’s eyes widen and I know she has. “Yeah. I wish I could help them.”

“You could if you wanted to. But I don’t think them having a baby will help solve their problems.”

“That’s what I told her. But it hasn’t been easy for them.” Jax says, sounding defeated for our friends.

The pop of a shirt sounds as I shake it out. “I know, Bee. Hopefully they’ll be able to find their way back to each other.”

“Is he…?”

“Planning for this to be his last season? Yeah.” I nod.

Jax and I finish folding clothes in silence. Once everything is done, we take care of taking them to each kid's room and putting them away because lord knows they won’t.

“Hi,” Jax says when we’re finally back in our room.

“Hi, Bee.” I reply and pull her into me.

“I was thinking…”

I snort and start to sway us to no music. Just a song that only we know. “About what?”

“I want us to get married again with the kids watching.”

“That’d be three times, Bee.” I say with a laugh.

“Well, you know what they say—third times the charm.”

I laugh and move us around the room, considering what she said. “Okay. When?”

“Over the summer if possible.”

“Okay. Where?” I ask and my eyes travel over the face I’ve known since I was eighteen, have loved since I was twenty-one and found again when I was twenty-eight.

It’s been a decade of falling in love with each other every day.

Showing our kids that laughter is a soundtrack in our home, that showing affection is par for the course in healthy relationships, and to never go to bed angry because you never know if those final words you speak to someone will be your last.

“Somewhere only we know.”