“Another kiss,” the officiant says, shaking his head. “Savannah.”

“Right,” I say, my hands shaking. “Beau,” I say. “For my whole life, I’ve wanted to fit in.” I look down, not sure if I should have started with that and let everyone know how vulnerable it has made me. “I used to walk with you in town when we were teenagers, and I would make pretend that you were my boyfriend and that we were together. It was everything that I dreamed of and more. You have held my hand and been my protector since I can remember, and every single day, you show me how much you love me and our children by putting us first.” I’m almost sobbing. “My heart is yours, and you were my missing piece. You were my everything. Thank you for taking our house and making it a home.”

He kisses me now, grabbing my face and not letting go, not even when the officiant talks above the cheering that is going on around us. “Mr. and Mrs. Beau Huntington.”

Epilogue Two

Beau

Ten years later

“I have to get going,” I tell Cassandra on my way out of my office. “It’s our anniversary, and I’m sweeping her away to our cottage.” I smile, thinking about having Savannah all to myself for two straight days. There will be no carpool to ballet or soccer practice. No cheerleading, no rodeo. Nothing but me, my wife, and a bed.

“Have a great weekend.” She smiles at me, and I rush home. I smile when I see Ethan’s car in the driveway. He loves coming home for the summer.

I walk up the steps and walk in just in time to hear our daughter, Chelsea, yell at the top of her lungs. “Mom, Ethan has a girlfriend, and she gave him a red mark on his neck!” I close my eyes. Ethan is very much loved by the ladies, and his father and I have both given him the sex talk. I just hope he listens to us.

“Ethan.” I hear Savannah say his name. “What did I tell you about the hickeys?” I walk into the room while he stands in front of her.

He grew to six feet four, and he is all cowboy. He beat Casey’s record at the rodeo not too long ago. “Mom, it’s not my fault if the ladies can’t control themselves around me.” He turns to Chelsea. “You’re not allowed to date until you’re twenty.”

“You were playing tonsil hockey with Emily when you were fifteen.” She points at him. She just turned ten years old, and she has already had five “boyfriends.”

“Hey,” I say, walking to my wife and kissing her on the lips.

“Gross,” Ethan says, giving me a hug. “I’m surprised you guys still have …” He raises his eyebrows.