Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
We’re already planning our wedding for next month. It’s a good thing too. I don’t want to be showing when I’m wearing my wedding dress.
The way Amos puffed out his chest when he saw that little plus sign on the pregnancy test. He looked like the proudest man that ever lived.
He’s already talking to my stomach. He insists we’re having a daughter to spoil and that afterwards, we’ll have a dozen sons to protect and defend her.
“The place looks perfect,” he says, sliding a hand in mine. “You did a great job.”
I give a soft sigh, wishing I could share this with my father. I wish I could talk to him about Jamie. I wish he could have found it in his heart to accept the boy that wasn’t his. As it is, I’ll never know what truly happened between those two.
“It does look pretty awesome, doesn’t it?” I smile, feeling pride fill me. Jamie may have been the one to put some money behind the shop. But this is all me and I’m determined to make the place a success.
“It could use one more thing,” Amos says, moving to the kitchen. He returns a moment later and places a large rectangular box on the counter.
“It needs a box?” I tease.
“Don’t get sassy with me, woman. You know what happens,” he warns with a wink.
My panties go damp. Sassing Amos usually ends with me tied to the bed and pleading for him to take me harder. “Promises, promises,” I mutter as I reach for the box, opening it.
I stop when I see what’s inside. Tears fill my eyes. “You did this for me?”
He shrugs. “I couldn’t fix the original sign. So I made one as close to it as possible.”
I run my fingers along the carved wood. “You spoil me.”
He comes around the counter to pull me into his arms. “I plan to spoil you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say as I lean up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
EPILOGUE
LYLA
“Now, we put the cream inside the donut,” Amos explains scooping up our five-year-old twin girls into his arms. He’s an amazing father that’s constantly watching over his daughters.
I had to have a talk with him after they started kindergarten this fall. Apparently, he got a reputation as the “scary dad” because he would growl at all the little boys who tried to talk to our girls. Now I’m the one that drops them off for school.
Watching them help him out in the bakery after it’s closed always brings a smile to my face. That’s what they’re doing now while I sip my herbal tea and watch the snow falling outside.
I couldn’t have imagined when I came to Mount Bliss six years ago that my life would have turned out so beautifully. Now I’m a wife to the world’s hottest bartender and a mother to two adorable little girls. Well, soon to be three but Amos doesn’t know that one yet.
“I don’t want lemon,” Lola protests with a shriek. She’s our oldest and she’s just as bossy as her father. If she has an opinion about something, no matter how small, she simply has to make it known. But Amos says he loves that about her. He’s proud of her for being assertive at a young age.
He sets his two girls on the counter beside the filling machine. “Well, what flavor do you want, my princess?”
“Daddy’s favorite,” Lydia answers. She’s the exact opposite of Lola. Where our older girl is boisterous and unafraid to make herself known, Lydia flies under the radar. She’s quiet, content to snuggle next to her father and have him read her a good story or silently follow him around the kitchen while he makes donuts.
“With sprinkles!” Lola adds.
“Alright, sit tight while your dad gets the filling, huh?” He tugs on Lydia’s ponytail and gives her a wink.
He pauses to press a kiss to my lips before he goes into the pantry. Even after years together, he’s still so affectionate and our sex life is beyond active. I think there needs to be a whole new category besides “active” for how much we’re always doing it.
As busy as our lives are running two businesses and raising daughters, he still finds a way to make sure I orgasm each day. Sometimes, multiple times.
Amos grabs the correct filling and loads the machine, showing the girls how to fill the donuts. They squeal in delight and he demonstrates how to package the dozen fresh donuts in a box. “Now these are for your Uncle Owen and his family. You girls can share, right?”
“He’s going to hate you,” I point out quietly. Owen married his Goldilocks—the woman who showed up at his cabin during the snowstorm—and they have three beautiful kids of their own. In fact, Uncle Owen is taking our girls for a sleepover with their cousins tonight.