“I had the last one,” I yelled as my eyes trained back on the football game.

“Babe, I can’t change the diaper, seriously. It will make me sick,” she whined as she stepped into the room, Brady wiggling in her arms in only a diaper.

“Shouldn’t he be potty trained by now anyway?” I groaned as I stood from the couch.

“He’s only eighteen months old, so no.” She thrust my boy into my arms.

“Jesus,” I held his stinky self at arm’s length.

“Come on, buddy, don’t you want to use the toilet like a big boy?”

“No.” Ah, there it was, no, one of the few words he knew and used excessively.

“What a bum deal if you’re going to be like this the whole pregnancy,” I grumbled as I headed down the hall and into the nursery.

“It’s just the beginning that my nose is so sensitive.” She rubbed her tummy softly.

“Better be. If your nose is so sensitive, how is it you’re able to stand in here with me while I change the diaper?” I arched an eyebrow at her.

“It’s just standing right over it I can’t take.” She wrinkled her nose and darted out of the room as a grin split across her face. I had a feeling she was bullshitting me about the sensitive nose thing. I knew she was sensitive to smells, coffee for one, but this dirty diaper sensitivity was way too convenient.

Lucky for her, I didn’t care. I knew she had it rough, carrying a baby while a toddler ran around the house, leaving mass chaos in his wake. If I had diaper duty for the rest of the pregnancy, I was okay with that; it was the least I could do after watching her push our son into the world. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give her a hard time about it, though. I couldn’t let her know she owned me so completely and could walk all over me, and I’d still have a smile on my face. Georgia did that to me. Got her way in all things and I happily gave it to her, gave her everything, because she’d given me everything.




“Come on, boys, let’s go,” I called from the beach.

“Where’s Daddy and Brady?” My beautiful little girl looked up at me, golden ringlets pulled into a ponytail, dark brown eyes dancing with excitement.

“They’re coming, baby.” I patted her head just as Tristan and our four-year-old came bounding down the deck stairs of the beach house.

“Be careful,” I called, but I knew they couldn’t hear.

“Mama.” Brooke tugged on the hem of my cover-up.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Up.” She reached her chubby little arms up for me to hold her. A smile slid across my face as I heaved her into my arms. I looked back at my boys as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Tristan heaved Brady up on his shoulders and jogged to me, a beautiful smile crossing his face. My heart stuttered to a stop because it was just as I'd imagined in my daydream so many years ago. That summer we'd first met and I'd seen beautiful little blond-haired babies in the sand, a smiling Tristan entertaining them.

“Hey, Mama.” My gorgeous husband pressed a kiss to my lips. I adjusted Brooke on my hip and weaved a hand up to hold his cheek as I kissed him.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to mine.

“Thanks.” I took his lips with mine again.

“Daddy, I’m ready to swim.” Brady shook the bucket of beach toys in his hand.

“He’s ready to swim, Daddy.” I smiled sweetly.

“While they’re swimming, can I get some alone time with my girl?” He quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

“Wait till nap time, Mr. Howell.” I pulled away, but not before pinching his ass.

“Ow.”

“What, Daddy?” Concern crossed our little boy’s face.

“Mommy pinched Daddy.”

“You shit,” I whispered under my breath as Tristan’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

“No pinching, Mommy,” Brady chastised from atop Tristan's shoulders.

“Sorry, baby. Let’s go swim.” I darted off down the beach with Brooke squealing with delight in my arms. I set her down in the sand and she immediately started digging as the waves lapped at her chubby little feet.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Tristan lifted Brady from his shoulders. Brady headed for his sister and plopped down, showing her how to make a sandcastle with the toys.

Tristan wrapped his arms around my waist and swayed me back and forth as he tucked his nose into my neck. I sucked in a contented breath and lay back against his chest.

“Thank you,” I sighed.

“For what?” His lips tickled the skin beneath my ear.

“For everything. All of it. From the beginning to the end, thank you.”

“Mmm, my pleasure, ma’am,” he said in his best southern drawl.

“Seriously. Buying this house? Best decision I ever made.” I turned in his arms and caught his gaze with my own. “That first day sailing? I'm so thankful you asked me and I said yes. Every minute I’m thankful for, even the hard ones.” Tears pricked behind my eyelids, as I looked at the beautiful boy that had been stopping and restarting my heart  from the moment I’d met him.

“Oh, baby.” He kissed me softly. “Thank you, for bringing me back to life. For making this beat.” He put my hand on his heart. “It beats for you and them.” He gestured toward our babies playing in the sand.

I nodded and tucked my head into the crook of his neck. I inhaled deeply and took in his ocean fresh scent that had made my knees weak from the start. His lips whispered along my jaw line as he placed soft kisses across my skin.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“I love you so much more,” he replied before his lips took mine in a reverent kiss.

There he went again, stealing my breath, except he wasn’t stealing it; I gave it to him freely because he owned me. We owned each other.

From the beginning, our lives had been set on a course to find each other. There'd been no deviating. Despite the bumps in the road, it’d gotten us here, and here was so good.

Here was the best.

Here was right where we were meant to be.



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