My mom picked up Jones and Di two hours ago and took them to her house for a slumber party. She’d offered a few weeks ago and I’d put her off. I hear lots of moms feel like it’s easier once you have the second kid to pass them off to someone else to watch, but that’s just not the case with me.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t have her around to watch Jones when he was a baby, so this time around is the first time I have the option for someone to take care of the kids when I have something to do. Spending time with Mimi is their new favorite thing to do.
Well, spending time with Mimi or Cole.
I get another rush of nerves thinking about him. That sexy shoulder-length hair, the beard he decided to keep because I love to run my hands through it, the playful smile and deep laugh. He just does it for me.
I glance at the clock next to my bed and see that it’s 5:56pm, then take another deep breath.
I shouldn’t be this nervous. I should be stripping down to a g-string and laying in the bed waiting for him. We both know what’s coming tonight. Or should I say who is coming tonight.
We’ve been dating for three months. Well, I say dating as if it isn’t actually some good old-fashioned courting. We are very clearly moving towards marriage, from the way Cole interacts with my kids to how he treats my mom or brings me around his family, to how he sets up intentional dates for us on a regular basis. This is a forever thing.
And tonight we’re going on an overnight date. How do I know it’s an overnight? Because I planned it. Cole is the one who doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that I reserved a room at the hotel where his parents are having their anniversary dinner, or that I took Mimi up on her offer to have a slumber party with the kids, or that there’s an overnight bag packed for both of us in the trunk of my car.
So that’s why I’m nervous. Because I feel like I’m ready. If I’m honest, I’ve been ready since before Diana was born.
She joined us the day after Christmas last year, with Jones petting her full head of hair next to me in the hospital bed saying things like “It’s okay if Santa dropped you off a day late” to Cole’s warm laughter. It’s always exhausting to be a new mom, but I feel like this time around, with help from both my mom and Cole, I actually got more rest. More me time.
More moments to dream about what it would be like to hop into bed with Cole at any moment. Because let me tell you, those horny pregnancy hormones don’t wear off just because the baby decided to grace you with her presence.
But when you have a baby, you have to give your body time to heal before sex is actually an option. So that was definitely unfortunate.
I wince at how awkward that conversation was with the doctor when I went in to get my stitches removed. Awkward because the doctor didn’t know Cole wasn’t the biological dad and that we hadn’t had sex yet. So when he proceeded to talk in-depth about my vagina and the stitches and the fact Cole and I shouldn’t notice any real difference once we start having sex again, I’d nearly fallen off my seat.
But Cole had been clear with me. There was no pressure to move things along physically.
At least from him.
I’ve been horny for a solid year. It’s time.
“This is going to be amazing. Stop stressing,” Lindsey says from where she’s lounging on my bed with a glass of wine. “You look amazing. But even if you looked like shit, he’d still want to bone you. He’s in love with you and hasn’t had sex in like five months or something. He’s gonna be all about that puss.”
I bark out a laugh at her crudeness, but appreciating the brief reprieve it has given me from the nerves that haven’t let up in days.
“Thanks for that, Linds.”
She just shrugs and takes another sip of her wine, and I go back to the bathroom to finish putting on another layer of waterproof mascara.
5 minutes later, there’s a knock at the front door.
“I got it,” Lindsey says and heads out to the front.
I take one last look at the woman in the mirror. The woman who is about to go on a beautiful date with a man who loves her like he means it.
And I can’t help but smile.
EPILOGUE TWO
COLE
… three years later …
“Congratulations, Mr. Lannigan.”
The nurse’s words as he hands over my baby girl are filled with the satisfaction and joy that come along with helping to bring a brand new life into this world.
I take my sweet newborn from his hands and hold her close to my chest, reveling in the way she squirms and moves, her tiny fingers and toes stretching and flexing as she starts to realize she has more space outside the womb than she was used to.
“She’s perfect.”
Annie’s voice has me lifting my eyes to find hers. Hers are tired, worn, hazy, but filled with love and emotion as she takes in the newest addition to our family from where she lies in the hospital bed.
“Annie, girl. Meet Elizabeth.” I kiss her gently and then pass her over to her mama. “Although, if I remember correctly, you two might already know each other.”
Annie holds Elizabeth close against her breast, and I let out a contented sigh at the sight of the two of them together.
“You know, I always think I can’t love any more than I already do,” she says. “And then I create an entirely new human being. And my heart and mind astound me with the ability to create a completely new space for loving her. And it takes nothing away from anyone else.” Tears streak down her cheeks. “She really is perfect, huh?”
I nod. “Do you want me to bring in the kids?”
She smiles at me, and I take that as a cue to call in Marybeth and my parents, who have been hovering in the waiting room, being absolute saints by watching Jones and Diana. At 7 and nearly 4 years old, they are quite the handful.
Annie’s mom is through the door first, eager to meet her newest grandchild. A minute later, Gary is holding the door open for my mom and the kids, who wander closely to the bed with wide eyes. My mom leans down and tells them to be really quiet so they can meet their new sister. Jones understands and edges slowly towards the bed, peering over and seeing the tiny wrinkly bundle in his mom’s arms.
“She looks like a raisin,” he says, the confusion in his voice clear, and I can’t help but burst into laughter. He was only 4 when Diana was born, so I doubt he remembers her looking much different.
“I can’t see!” Diana’s cry has me picking her up and holding her over Annie and the baby. She reaches out a hand and sticks her finger into Elizabeth’s, who squeezes it tightly.
She gasps and looks at me. “It’s a baby,” she whispers into my ear, and I laugh again.
Twenty minutes later, Mimi and the kids have all taken turns holding Elizabeth – the kids did it while sitting in a chair so we could make sure they didn’t accidentally drop her – and are headed back to our house, leaving just me and Annie and baby Liz.
And as I watch Annie hold our newest daughter, I am just overwhelmed with love. For her, for our newborn, for my son Jones and my first daughter Di. Annie was right when she said your body creates new capacity for love, and I definitely feel that for our children. But it continues to blow my mind with how much I feel that for my wife.
I’ve spent all of my time with Annie so focused on my own grass, that I don’t even care what color someone else’s is. It might be greener, or bluer, or dying.
Our life isn’t perfect, by any means. We fight like any couple. We miscommunicate sometimes and piss each other off other times.
But we love each other with every single breath we take. We live each day being on each other’s team.
And every single day, my sweet Annie girl gives me a real smile. The kind that radiates out from her soul. The kind that can’t be faked or covered up or hidden.
It hits me in the gut every single time. And I know I’m the luckiest man alive.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always, my first thank you and note of appreciation has to go to
my husband, Danny. Thank you for not only being an amazing beta reader and co-editor, but also for continuing to encourage and support me as I pursue my dreams. Having you by my side this year, during the most difficult year of our lives so far, makes facing the hard times manageable. I am so proud to be on your team, and I would not be where I am today without you.
Thank you to the members of my wonderful reader group, the J-Crew, for providing much needed feedback as I struggled to create this cover, and for reading my ARCs!
To my sister, mom and dad, your relentless optimism and continued praise has not gone unnoticed and it is greatly appreciated. Thank you for being proud of me.
To my best friend, Jordan, for always keeping my ego in check and putting up with me, as well as for sending me ridiculous memes that make me laugh every day. Yes, I can read. It’s a miracle, I know!
To my indie colleagues, Dana Pitchford and Lauren Roux, I know our interactions are primarily on Facebook, but you both provide me with support and challenge when I’m looking for motivation, as well as colleagues to vent to in what can be a very solitary profession.
To Tessa Bailey, an amazing romance author and a professional inspiration. I contacted you to get permission to write this story, because it stemmed from a post that was shared on your page. One phrase stood out in your email: “Write it, girl!” Thank you so much for the encouraging words!
I wouldn’t be able to end my acknowledgements without thanking the amazing group of people who live on my street in Hawaii – the Kaipii Ohana – for always having kind words and questions, and for stepping in to inflate my ego when it’s needed. I love all of you!
To every blogger and reader who picks up this book at any point – whether it be an e-copy that was pre-ordered, a paperback that was given to you, or a pirated version you downloaded illegally online: thank you for the time it takes to invest in reading the works of an indie author. It is so valued.
I write because it feels suffocating not to. It doesn’t always come easily, or quickly, and isn’t always entirely readable when it first passes from my mind to my fingers to the keyboard and onto the screen. But I feel so lucky and so blessed to get to focus on my writing every day.
I was inspired by an author who one day decided to write a book, and launched her career through self-publishing. So my final thank you is to Colleen Hoover. Thank you for sharing your story and your experiences in a way that encourages others to pursue their dreams. Including me. Your words make it seem achievable to change the story we are writing for ourselves every day.
Lots of love to you all,
Jillian
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jillian Liota is a Southern California native currently living in Kailua, Hawaii. She is married to her best friend, has a three-legged pup with endless energy, and acts as a servant to two very temperamental cats. When she isn’t writing, she is travelling, reading a good book, or watching Harry Potter.
Always.
To connect with Jillian:
Sign up for her Newsletter
Rate her on Goodreads
Visit her on Facebook
Check out her Website
Send her an Email
Stalk her on Instagram
Add her on Amazon
Follow her on Pinterest
Tweet her on Twitter
MORE FROM JILLIAN
Don’t miss Jillian’s debut novel and follow up novella in The Keeper Series! Now available on Amazon.
Like You Mean It Page 26