One Last Time(94)

It’s finally over.

I’m clinging to this moment because I’ve needed it—I’ve needed him.

“Okay then.” He smiles and walks into the living room with me. Noah gets to the couch and drops me on my back with him covering me. “Nicole, you wanted to watch, right? I think someone should entertain the kids—”

“Noah!” I yell and push him off me. “Oh my God, you’re such an ass.”

“Maybe, but you love me,” he challenges.

Damn right I do. But then again who wouldn’t? He’s freaking perfect.

And hot.

And sweet.

And loves me with his whole heart.

But I do love messing with him and feel it’s my duty to keep him humble.

I shrug. “Eh, you’re all right.”

“I’ll give you all right.”

Danielle clears her throat. “As fun as it is to watch you two, and by fun, I mean not at all, your contractor will be here soon, and you’re not even close to ready.”

He gets to his feet and pulls me up with him. I slice my hand across my throat as she talks, but she doesn’t take the hint. Damn it.

“Wait?” Noah turns. “Not done?”

I rock back onto my heels and tuck my head down. “I might have exaggerated a little about how much I got done . . .”

Thankfully, my son emerges, saving me from the lecture that was sure to come. “Noah!”

“Hey, man!”

Finn and Noah’s relationship has grown even with the distance. It’s been great watching them bond. Noah has helped settle everyone without even trying. I’m happier, the kids are happier, and all of us are excited about the changes.

Noah asked Finn’s permission to move in, and after that, they were best friends.

“Are you back for good?” Finn asks.

“Yup. I’m here for forever.”

His eyes meet mine on the last word, and I melt.

Noah is my forever.

Noah is my always.





Epilogue





Kristin





Eight Years Later


“Okay, we’re going to have a detailed plan so we can get through the whole park in one day,” Noah tells us while we lean against the car. “I’ve got the map and times when we’ll eat. This is going to be perfect!”

He’s out of his mind. I’m not sure why he thought Finn would want to come to a theme park—with his very uncool parents—for his birthday—but here we are. No amount of arguing would sway him. He swears this is the best gift possible.

Not like Finn would much rather have my suggestion of a car.

Finn leans toward me and whispers, “He realizes I’m not a kid anymore, right?”

“Just pretend you are excited, and I’ll get you the car,” I say conspiratorially.

My son perks up as if he’s suddenly very into this. “Yes, a plan would be great. I am super excited. We should not delay and waste time. Lead us away to our day of jubilee,” he says each word with sarcasm.

Jubilee? Really, Finn?

“Sell it better next time, dude.” I clap his shoulder.

Noah sighs. “I thought you’d want to see the Harry Potter stuff.”

Sometimes he’s the most brilliant man in the world, others he’s clueless. Finn turned eighteen today, which I cried for a good hour over, and Noah wanted to surprise him. This morning, he woke the kids at six in the morning with a box for Finn. There’s no way the kid didn’t think they had car keys. The box was small and there was a Gryffindor lanyard wrapped around it.

Hell, I thought it was car keys, and I knew it wasn’t.

Finn’s face was priceless when he opened it.

Aubrey on the other hand blatantly laughed at him. However, the sun shines out of Noah’s ass, so she was overly excited just to try to get her way.

I see through her crap. Noah, not so much.

I walk over and touch his cheek. “You tried, honey. It’s the thought that counts.”

“He used to love this stuff,” Noah huffs as we walk behind the kids.

“When he was ten!” I laugh.

“I like Harry Potter, and I’m not ten,” Noah retorts.

“Yes, but you act like you are.”

Noah growls and wraps his arms around my waist, rubbing his scruff against my neck. “I’ll give you ten.”

“Noah!” I laugh and try to get out of his hold. “Stop! You’re tickling me!”

“Mom!” Aubrey hisses. “You’re embarrassing us. God, sometimes I can’t believe I’m related to you people.” She huffs and crosses her arms. “I’m almost glad I couldn’t bring a friend now.”

Oh, the peril of a fourteen-year-old girl. I swear the attitude started at twelve and each year she becomes more pleasantly awful. It doesn’t help that her father and Noah spoil the shit out of her. I’m the bad guy.

“Yell at Noah. It’s his fault we’re here.”

She tosses her hand up in the air and keeps walking. “Whatever.”

Noah looks at me and we both start laughing. It’s a running joke in our home that he can do no wrong. As much as it’s annoying, I’m glad my kids love him. He’s truly a second father to them, and when he goes on set, we all miss him terribly.