EPILOGUE

Two years later

Zane strode across the field that separated the house from the orchard with a basket of peaches and two dogs trailing behind. The strains of Mozart's Requiem in D Minor cut across the breeze, and he knew that the main dish for their dinner party had just been put into the oven.

His beloved listened to the same playlist every time she created a feast, and he followed the music cues to know where she was in the process. Filling his lungs with spring air, he once again thanked the Creator for sending Olivia his way. He was a year into marriage and couldn't believe how easy it had been to pledge his life to another human. At least it was with Olivia.

The dogs headed toward the shade of the Ferris wheel, and he pushed through the screen door, holding up the basket. "Success, Liv. We have enough ripe ones for dessert."

"You are the best husband in the whole world."

He gave himself a second to appreciate the look of love she shot in his direction and knew without a doubt that he was the luckiest man in the Southeast. "I do what I can, babe." He set down the basket and then pressed a kiss to her head.

She studied the peaches. "I know that little Esmeralda is going to love these."

"Nice try." He ran his hand over her baby bump. "But that name choice is a no for me."

"Really?"

Leaning back, he studied her closely and realized she wasn't that invested in the name. Over the last year, he"d learned how to read his wife and knew that the lack of narrowed eyes meant she could give a flying fig about naming their offspring after a minor Disney princess. Not that he wouldn't give her a little back and forth, so she could have the satisfaction of earning his capitulation.

Pregnancy had changed Olivia's desire to debate, and the last thing he'd do was deny her the joy of a spirited discussion. Hell, there wasn't a thing he wouldn't give his wife. Except for naming their first child Esmerelda. That was just plain mean. Esme would be okay, though. So would the other dozen names they'd agreed on.

"Are you sure that Esmerelda Hawker is a hard pass?" She pursed her lips. "It sounds like a woman who'd be an artist…or a writer…or…"

"Just a good person who does what she loves."

"Or that," she said quietly.

Sensing a shift in her mood, he embraced her gently. "Everything okay?"

"Yes. I'm just riding the hormonal wave of pregnancy and trying not to drown." She tightened her hold. "I feel incredibly happy and just get overwhelmed with our blessings."

"Same," he replied as he tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Do you ever wonder why God saved all the good stuff until we met?"

"Not really," she replied quietly. "And we both had plenty of great moments before getting together."

He shifted closer. "But this…"

"Is on a whole other level?"

"Yes." He rested his head on top of hers. "I didn't know something like this existed."

"I did."

"Show off," he replied with a laugh.

"Hardly." She stepped away and let her hand drop to her hip. "Why do you think that I pursued you so relentlessly?"

"I don't know that it was relentless."

"It was persistent."

He took her hand. "I might've been slow on the uptake, but babe, I finished strong."

"So strong."

Nodding with satisfaction, he watched her kiss their clasped hands. "How many are we expecting for this soiree?"

"Eight," she said before letting his hand go. "And since no one ditches our dinner parties anymore, we won't be drowning in leftovers."

"I kinda wish they still did since helping you recover from the disappointment was a hell of a lot of fun."

"If you're in the mood for counter sex, then say the word." She ran her hand over her stomach. "Because based on the way I'm expanding, we won't be able to manage it for much longer."

He shook his head. "Babe, I can manage it anywhere, anytime."

She ran her hand over his bicep. "I guess being married to a strong man does have its advantages."

"Sure does," he said, wondering if they had enough time before their guests were due. "And if…"

"After dinner," she said before scooting out of reach.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She pulled out a stack of dishes. "You can set the table."

"Alright." He took the dishes. "But know I will hustle our guests out the door the minute they finish their coffee."

"I know, honey and there isn't a person in Haven that isn't acquainted with your many techniques and why you don't let people linger."

He gave her a careless smile. "There is nothing wrong in loving my wife."

"Of course not."

He turned toward the dining room. "Do you want the blue napkins tonight?"

"Yes, my love."

Silently repeating the words; my love, he headed toward the table. He was the love of someone's life. A damn miracle as far as he was concerned. And nothing he would ever take for granted.

Olivia was his miracle.

The moment he'd given in to his feelings was the moment his life had become ridiculously easy. He was a man that needed a mission, and making a life with Olivia was one he was happy to invest his heart and soul in.

And boy, did the hard work pay off.

She listened to his words. And to his silence. She held her arms open daily and embraced his body and his dreams. Even his demons were welcomed when they made the rare appearance. There was nothing better than one of his wife's juicy hugs, and no place he'd rather be.

The woman at the end of Lady Bug Lane saved him, making him the most fortunate man in the world.