Expect Me (Rivers Edge Book 3)

by Lacey Black

  “Watch your step,” I tell Josselyn as I link my hand inside of hers, and we walk up the stairs, side by side.

  When we reach the door, I turn to face her. “You ready?” I ask.

  “Absolutely,” she says as a huge grin spreads across her beaming face. I drop her hand only long enough to open the front door. Once the door is open, I latch back onto her hand and we step through the front door.

  I hear her audibly gasp as she enters the house. The walls are painted a warm, rich taupe color. The woodwork is rustic, yet modern. The furniture is plush and inviting. The whole house smells like home cooked food – thanks, Mom.

  The first room we walk in is the living room. The small fire roars in the stone fireplace courtesy of my dad. Josselyn walks towards the fireplace and gazes up at the large portraits above the mantel. There are three actually, all taken by Matty. The first one is the sexy, sensual one in the prairie grass of me and Josselyn. The one where she’s wearing my shirt, strategically unbuttoned and showing her round belly. I’m not wearing a shirt and my pants are open. At first I thought it was silly when he had me standing out there taking the pictures, but now that I see it, it’s a masterpiece. It’s my favorite damn picture – or at least it was until I see the others.

  The middle photo is one he snapped of Grant the day he was born. He’s sleeping peacefully with his wrinkled little hands up by his face. The third photo is one of the three of us together in the hospital. Our smiles are genuine and reach from one ear to the other. It was our first family photo - the three of us.

  I don’t set Grant’s chair down, but I do remove the blanket from the top of the seat. The fire definitely leaves the room feeling warm and inviting.

  Josselyn glances at the dining room and kitchen. I notice the oven is on and set to ‘warm’. Upon inspection, I see Mom’s famous meatloaf, potatoes, and green beans keeping warm in the oven and a bag of fresh yeast rolls sitting on the counter.

  “So, we can’t go upstairs yet since you are to avoid stairs for the next two weeks, but that will give us something to look forward to when the staples come out,” I tell her as I steer her towards the back of the house. Josselyn has yet to say anything, and honestly, I’m starting to get a little freaked out. I’ve had to wipe my hands on my jeans twice since we entered the house and I keep switching the car seat in my hands from one hand to the other.

  Finally, we make our way back to the guest room on the main floor. When Josselyn opens the door, her entire bedroom set is there, waiting. Her bed is positioned so you can see out the back wall full of windows. Her dresser with all of her clothes is along the wall leading to the closet and bathroom.

  “My stuff is here?” she asks with eyes filled with question. But I also see excitement and hope.

  “Yeah. My brothers and Matty went to your storage unit and brought it all over yesterday. The girls got everything set up for us. We had most of the stuff moved in here on Sunday with the exception of a few things still at my parent’s house.”

  “But I thought the only things at your parent’s house was the baby stuff,” she says.

  “It was,” I reply and take her hand again. I lead her next door to the room I did specifically for Grant.

  When I open the door for her, she takes in the blue walls and bright windows covered in thick, darkening curtains. And the trucks. Trucks and tractors everywhere. I didn’t really know what Josselyn had planned for the nursery, so I took a shot in the dark and did a construction theme. Hell, it’s something I know a little about.

  “You did this?” she whispers as she looks around, running her hand along the edge of the changing table. She takes in the pictures of equipment, mounds of dirt, and road signs. “It’s perfect,” she adds with a small voice.

  “Yeah. Avery helped me find all the construction things and helped me decide how to decorate it. Then, Matty came in and changed everything around,” I add with a smile.

  Josselyn laughs. “I’m sure he did.”

  Eventually she makes her way to the crib. The very one she picked out with my mom at the store a few months back. I watch as she runs her hand along the hard, smooth wood, and gives the mobile above the crib a little push. Then - finally - she glances down into the crib. Her beautiful hazel eyes finally lock on the small blue box sitting on top of the bedding.

  “What’s that?” she asks breathlessly, eyes searching mine.

  “That’s your push present,” I say as casually as I can muster, but know by the sound of my own voice, it’s tight and filled with nerves.

  “What’s a push present?” she asks as she gazes back down at the box, almost afraid to pick it up.

  “Well,” I start as I set Grant’s seat down on the floor in the middle of the room, “Avery told me that all women deserve a push present when they give birth. It’s something to signify the hard work you endured when pushing out the baby.”

  “But I didn’t push out a baby,” she quips with a smile.

  “No, you did something far braver. You endured a major surgery and had to be put completely under, not knowing what was going on with you or the baby. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,” I tell her honestly.

  “So, this is for me?” she asks as she tentatively reaches down and grabs a hold of the small blue box sitting inside the crib.

  “Yep,” I answer. I reach forward and extend my hand towards the box in her hand. I had an entire speech prepared for this part, but now, the words don’t seem right. Now, I speak from the heart.

  “Avery said I could get you a necklace with Grant’s birthstone in it - which was a close second - or maybe a bracelet. But, when I went to the store to pick something out yesterday, nothing really seemed right. Until I saw this.”

  I’m standing in front of her ready to tell her everything. Everything I feel and everything I want.

  “I realized while I was walking that hallway on Sunday, waiting to hear word about you and Grant and terrified out of my mind, that I would do anything for you. Anything for Grant. Part of being able to do anything for you is to make sure you’re here every day so I can protect you, see you, touch you, and love you. I want you here with me, but not as my roommate or my friend. I want you here with me as my wife,” I say strongly as I drop down to one knee in the middle of the nursery. “I want to share everything with you, now and for the rest of my life. Josselyn, will you marry me?”

  Her beautiful hazel eyes are wide and filled with tears. She doesn’t even hesitate as the smile spreads across her face and she says, “Yes.”

  With shaky fingers, I open the ring box and pull out the marquis cut solitaire diamond. It feels perfect, right, to slide it on her equally shaky finger.

  As soon as the ring is in place, I’m back on my feet and taking the woman I love into my arms. I kiss her with everything I have and everything I am, careful not to press too hard on her stomach.

  I could kiss this woman all day, and I probably would, if not for the newborn sitting in the middle of the floor, deciding at that exact moment that he wasn’t having anymore of the car seat. My son lets out one of his famous ear piercing cries.

  Josselyn laughs against my lips, her breath all warm and sweet. “I imagine someone is getting hungry,” she says without breaking the touch of our lips.

  “He’s not the only one,” I reply. “Why don’t you get ready and I’ll unpack him. While you’re feeding him, I’ll go check on mom’s dinner she left us.”

  “Sounds good. I’m starving for your mom’s food after suffering through two days of hospital food.”

  I gently lift Grant out of his seat and place him in Josselyn’s waiting arms in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She makes quick work of her top and begins to feed our son. She picked up the breastfeeding rather quickly and seems to be doing very well with it.

  I lean down and kiss her sweet lips once more, rubbing my hand on the crown of Grant’s head, before heading out of the room and into the kitchen. Before I get to dishing out the food, I grab th
e bassinet from the living room and pull it over to the dining room.

  Back in the kitchen, I dish up healthy servings of Mom’s meatloaf and all the sides. I also grab my phone and send her a quick ‘thank you’ text for all her hard work and the meal.

  Fifteen minutes later, Josselyn walks into the kitchen with Grant. He’s sleeping again, wrapped tightly in a blue blanket. I set the plates on the table and grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge.

  “This is our first dinner together at the new house,” she says as she sets Grant in the bassinet.

  “It’s the first meal period in this house. I haven’t stayed here yet,” I tell her. “I wasn’t planning to stay here without you.”

  She gives me a smile as we both take our seats at the table. We both dive into the food with enthusiasm like we haven’t eaten food in days. Well, edible food in days. I stuff myself with more food that I’ve eaten in probably the past three days combined and Josselyn doesn’t hold back either. She went a day and a half on a liquid diet following the surgery, so she’s definitely not restraining herself.

  When our bellies are stuffed, I send Josselyn into the living room to sit by the fire. I move Grant’s bassinet into the room, and head back into the kitchen to clean up the small mess. I’ve been living on my own for several years so to clean up the dishes, counters, and put away the leftovers generally doesn’t bother me. But, tonight, all I want to do is get back to Josselyn and Grant in the living room.

  After the kitchen is quickly cleaned, I finally head into the warmth of the living room. Josselyn is curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow tenderly to her abdomen. Her eyes are closed as though she’s fallen asleep. I check on Grant who’s sleeping soundly in the bassinet before I slide on the couch next to her, carefully lifting her legs up and sliding underneath them.

  I watch the fire and lightly stroke her calves and feet. I work my fingers as deeply into her muscles as I can without waking her up. Or at least I thought I did.

  “That feels wonderful,” she mumbles.

  “Sorry if I woke you up,” I tell her.

  “You didn’t. I was just resting my eyes, but when you started doing that, there was no way I was interrupting.”

  I chuckle as I continue to rub her feet. “I’ll do this anytime you want. Just say the word,” I say.

  “So, I was thinking,” she says without opening her eyes.

  “About what?”

  “About the wedding.” Josselyn opens her eyes now and looks directly at me.

  “What about it?” I ask as my hands continue to knead her leg muscles.

  “I don’t want to wait. I want to get married right away. And I want to get married here. Outside,” she says, face lighting up as she tells me what she wants.

  And since I’ll do anything to make that dream come true, there’s only one thing to say. “Absolutely. I want that too.”

  She smiles at me before she continues. “I want to get married on Thanksgiving. I know it’s only a few weeks away, but I was thinking that maybe we could host dinner here for our families and get married in the backyard. I know it might be hard to find a minister who will come over on Thanksgiving, but -” I cut her off when I move. I move fast. I’m moving her legs, crawling carefully up the couch, and straddling her within seconds. My face is directly in front of hers, our breath is mixed and our eyes are locked.

  “Yes. I want to get married on Thanksgiving,” I tell her moments before I claim her lips with my own. It doesn’t take long before the kiss turns towards the heated, needy side. I have to force myself to pull back knowing that she just had major surgery and we can’t do anything for several weeks. Several weeks that will test my patience and my restraint, I’m sure. Fuck.

  “I’ll call my mom tomorrow and tell her the plan. I’m sure she’ll be fine with helping cook the dinner here instead of at their house,” I tell her as we both adjust our bodies so that we’re snuggled up closely on the couch.

  “I’m going to call my parents and my sister and invite them. I don’t know if they’ll come or not, but that’ll be their choice. At least I’m going to extend the invite and if they come, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”

  “They’ll come,” I tell her as I kiss the back of her head and hold her securely in my arms.

  This is it. This is what life is all about. This moment and all of the little moments that will follow. Some of those moments will be happy and some will be sad because that’s life. I expect it to be hard, and I expect it to be challenging. But as long as I have the woman I love beside me and our son in my arms, we can overcome anything that’s thrown our way. It’ll be worth it.

  I don’t expect that, I know it.

  Epilogue

  Josselyn

  Thanksgiving

  I awake from a dream-filled sleep and glance at my alarm clock. Two a.m. I’m instantly on alert. Grant didn’t wake up for his one o’clock feeding. I swing around to alert Travis, but his side of the bed is void and cold. I quickly get up and realize that Grant isn’t in his bassinet either. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I head out to investigate.

  Travis and I moved up to the master bedroom a week ago, as soon as they removed my staples and cleared me to climb stairs again. This room is without a doubt my favorite room in the house. The open floor plan and the floor to ceiling windows with the balcony make it a dream. I especially love the bathroom. As soon as I was able, I filled up that big garden, jetted tub, Travis lit some candles around the ledge, and I soaked and relaxed all while staring out those huge windows over the tub.

  We brought up the bassinet which has been stationed on my side of the bed, and we put the pack ‘n play and the rocker in Travis’ office so that we had a place for midnight feedings and diaper changes. Well, until he’s a little older and starts sleeping in his crib downstairs.

  I know my boys aren’t downstairs because all of the downstairs rooms are filled. My parents are sleeping in the guest room, and my sister is sleeping in the twin bed in the nursery that we borrowed for their visit.

  I head to the office and crack open the door, and the sight before me takes my breath away. Travis is sitting in his office chair and Grant is sitting in his arms wide-eyed and watching Travis’s every move.

  “And that’s when your daddy decided that he couldn’t live without your mommy any longer,” he tells our almost four week old son who is observing him, hanging on his every word. I swing the door open further and Travis takes notice of me for the first time.

  “Hey,” he says with a smile.

  “Hi. What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Well, big man here woke up so I brought him in here for a diaper change. But he was so content afterwards that I thought I’d let you sleep a little bit longer until he got fussy for food,” he replies.

  “And the story?”

  “Oh, that was me telling my son how I finally wised up and won over his mommy. I was giving him all sorts of advice on what not-to-do if he ever finds himself living with a woman he barely knows yet knocks up. It’s a very compelling story,” he says with that beautiful smile.

  “Let’s just hope that he’s smarter than his mommy and daddy,” I say as I walk into the room and stand next to my boys. Grant is focusing on faces more now and seems to take in my face as I crouch down next to them.

  “Although, the beginning of the story might not be the best way to go about it, the ending is well worth it,” Travis says as he gazes deeply into my eyes and gives me that cocky, half smile that I love.

  I smile back at my almost-husband. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I tell him before I kiss his lips.

  *****

  At five o’clock, I’m standing in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom. I’m wearing a very simple, long satin ivory gown with spaghetti straps and a low scooping back, exposing almost my entire back. I had to find some of those sticky bra cups that are specifically made for backless dresses. Unfortunately, those little sticky cups were n
ot made for breastfeeding. But that’s okay. I’m making due for now.

  A knock sounds at the door before Mrs. Stevens steps inside.

  “Are you ready, dear?” she asks, beaming in her beautiful beige dress.

  I take one last glance in the mirror at my classic, yet casual, hair swept to the side. My makeup is soft yet striking, and my crystal encrusted ivory shoes were traded in for ivory and tan cowboy boots.

  Did I mention we woke up this morning to snow? Yep! We had a light dusting of snow fall this morning on Rivers Edge. It’s actually beautiful. The entire backyard looks whimsical and has a magical feel to it. But the snow left everyone scrambling for different shoes. I opted for my new pair of boots that I’ve been breaking in around the house. They are actually incredibly comfortable and so easy to wear while we work around the yard. I grab my thick ivory shawl, and Mrs. Stevens steps forward to help wrap it around my bare shoulders and back.

  “You look stunning, dear. I knew the moment I met you that we’d be at this exact same place someday. You are the perfect match for my Travis. You balance each other in every way possible, and I’m so honored to have you as an official part of our family today,” Mrs. Stevens says with compassion and love filled eyes.

  “Thank you,” I finally choke out as I try to swallow over the lump that suddenly formed in my throat.

  “Come on now, dear. My son is waiting for you in the backyard,” she says with a smile.

  Together we head out the door and down the stairs. My nose is assaulted with the delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. My mom has been working hard all day with Mrs. Stevens on tonight’s Thanksgiving and wedding meal. Mrs. Stevens even made a mini cake with decadent butter cream icing and dark chocolate embellishments. I can’t wait to dive into that thing!

  My father is waiting for me at the base of the stairs looking handsome in his suit. His face lights up with a huge smile as I approach. “Honey, you look stunning,” he says before he places a gentle kiss on my cheek.