Defining Us (Rocky Waters)

Epilogue

AINSLEY

ONE YEAR LATER

I 'm staring at a positive pregnancy test. Unlike last time, the meaning sinks in right away, and the smile I feel creeping across my face couldn't be bigger.

Grayson wanted to start trying even before the wedding, but I held back. It's not that I didn't want to be pregnant or have kids; I needed time to enjoy our life together. I needed time to enjoy my husband all to myself. Heck, I needed to enjoy just being by myself for a bit. Being without a job for a little while, meeting and marrying the love of my life in a matter of a year, I needed to just BE Ainsley for a while before I became someone's mother. Grayson never pressured me to stop taking the pill, never asked when we would start; he just let me have my time. He knew I needed the time and would come to him when I was ready. Even when I nonchalantly told him over dinner one night that I decided to stop birth control, he raised his brows, shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his meal. It's what I love most about the man: he allows me to be me, gives me unconditional love and support, and doesn't ask questions when they aren't needed. He. Gets. Me .

He is going to be ecstatic, I think and in turn, my smile grows even bigger.

Before I can even decide how to tell him, I hear Grayson call from somewhere in the house, “Hey, darling. I'm back. Time to make the donuts.”

I chuckle at his use of the phrase, but he's not wrong. It is time to make the donuts.

I shove the test into the pocket of my hoodie and wash my hands. Not wanting to give anything away, I wipe the smile off my face.

When I get to the kitchen, Grayson has the ingredients and supplies spread all over the counters. He's just come back from the gym and a morning of training clients. His back is to me, that toned ass that I can't ever get enough of, in perfect view. Well, second only to his abs. And after his arms. And those calves.

Lost in my head, I barely hear him clear his throat; he's caught me staring, yet again.

He's shaking his head at me as he begins to speak. “It’s been four hours, Ainsley.”

“And it will be way more than that until I can get you naked again,” I retort.

He comes over to me and wraps his arms around me, planting a slow kiss on the top of my head. My eyes slip shut and a small moan escapes my lips. I can’t help it. Even though we've been married a little less than a year, his kisses still make me swoon. As it should, my conscience bellows from inside. “Love you, Gray,” I manage to pant out.

“Ditto.” He lets me go and tells me, “Come on, these donuts aren't going to make themselves.”

“Did you pull the Mustang in the garage? Or are we going to take it out tonight?”

He turns to face me. “His or hers?”

Yes, that’s right. We each have our own Mustangs. Mine is the ’67 I inherited from Grayson when he finally got his 2015 one. The one I picked out for him with the money I borrowed before our wedding.

When we got back from our honeymoon, I directed him to the Ford dealership. When he found out why we were there, his only reaction was a shake of his head and the words, “I guess I paid for my own wedding present.” I’m lucky he loves me.

“Mine. You told me I could drive this evening and well, I’m still a little scared of yours being so new.”

He snorts and mumbles, “But she’s okay driving a classic one. Go figure.”

“I heard that!” He shakes his head and heads to the pantry for supplies.

Grayson made good on his promise to help me achieve my dream of baking every day. Not only did he supply the startup money for commercial grade equipment and other supplies, he also got our kitchen licensed to be able to sell our baked goods without the “food police” coming after us. He’s also in the process of finding me a small storefront. If I want. I’m still undecided. Don’t get me wrong. I love baking, filling orders for the clients and customers I’ve earned over the year or so since I started this little side “business,” but I don’t know if I’m ready to branch out that much yet, especially with the news I learned mere minutes ago. I also love waking up, coming downstairs in my PJs and calling it “work.” Having Grayson's help and support in all aspects just adds to how much I love my “job.”

I also have the blog to think about. It’s really been cathartic for me to write about the food that I’m baking and cooking, even the mistakes I make along the way. Sometimes, those are the most fun to write. I have a ton of faithful followers, and I love to read their messages to me about a recipe they’ve tried or just random baking or cooking questions. Of course, then there are the Grayson worshippers who just want more pictures of the man that I call my husband. It was just a stupid move to post the picture of him in the kitchen. I mean really, what did I expect? Of course followers are going to want more pictures of him; did I mention he’s gorgeous? And all mine?

The blog has taught me that even though I’m not perfect, I am important, that I deserve what my life offers me. Grayson makes sure I know this every day, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“Earth to Ainsley,” I hear. Noticing I’m still somewhat staring, he jokes, “Which body part got you this time?” He chuckles, if only to himself.

“Oh, it wasn’t you this time,” I lie. “Just thinking about getting to work on these donuts. How many do we need to make again?”

He finds the order form and scans it. “Three dozen glazed, with three different frostings. Some with sprinkles.”

“That's not too bad. Okay, let’s get to work. Start up the music.”

Grayson and I long ago mastered the art of cooking in the kitchen together. It's a dance we know well, how to stay out of each other's way, silent tells that let the other one know what needs to be done or what ingredient is needed from the fridge or pantry. Sometimes we work in silence, with just the music in the background. Other days, we chat. The “man of few words” I met that night in the bar can be quite chatty when he wants to be. Today is one of those days.

“You want to take the boat out next weekend with everyone? I want to get Jack on the water as soon as possible.” He's measuring and adding flour to one of the stand mixers on the counter. He looks over to me, awaiting my reply.

“Yeah, sure. That will be fun. He’s kind of little though, isn’t he? I don't know that Kylie will go for that.”

Jack is Kylie and Bella's adopted son. He’s just two months old, and Kylie is a bit on the overprotective side. I think in some ways, she has to balance out Bella’s “fly by the seat of her pants” parenting style, but it's also a consequenceof having to care for Bella all those years. They both love that boy fiercely; he will never be unloved.

“She’ll be fine with it,” he assures me. “Bella said it was okay.”

“Of course she did.” I giggle .

In just two months of his life, we’ve witnessed more quarrels between the two of them than in all the years I’ve known them, which I know isn't saying much given the fact I’ve only known them two years. If we thought their sexual chemistry was strong before, we were wrong. Pretty sure their makeup sex has to be smoking hot.

“Oh, and I talked to John at the real estate office. He has a few locations to show us if you want to go and see them. There’s one that I really think will work.”

I look over at him. His expression, while soft, conveys a look of wanting. Like he wants me to go see the spaces and like the one he’s chosen.Ultimately, I know he would never push me into something I’m not comfortable with.

“I will go look at them, but I've told you before, I like our setup. We have a good thing going here and everything’s familiar. Why rock the boat?”

He's still got the hopeful look on his face. “I get that,” he starts, “but I just thought you would want to expand your business. In the next few months, we could grow it into something bigger, reach more people.”

I start to walk over to where he is but am interrupted by a text message on my phone. It’s on the table where I had it earlier, and Grayson's closer to it. He goes to check it and when he reads the name, I cringe.

“I don't even care what she has to say this time,” I tell him, trying not to let my opinions and feelings about my mother detract from my happy news.

I will give her some credit that she's tried to make amends over the last year. She did attend my wedding. I don’t know who was responsible for getting her there, but in the end, I appreciated the fact she was there to help me celebrate.

After Claudia had the baby, she softened slightly in her new role as grandmother. Then, when Claudia picked up and walked out of Drew and the baby's life, forcing him to move home, she eased up a little more. Drew and I made somewhat of a truce, just for the sake of Sadie, his daughter. I try to see her at least once a month, usually on my terms, taking her somewhere, even just to our house. Shocking, Drew isn't half bad as a father, although it's a good thing he has my parents to help out. I still avoid my mother when I can, but there's a part of me that thinks she knows she was wrong about Grayson and me but won't admit it.

Grayson puts the phone back down on the table and comes over to where I am.

“Don't let her get to you today, love.”

I love that he knows what to say and what I need to hear. Knowing that her text won't be as bad as it once was, I try to push it out of my head temporarily; she will be there later.

“Anyway.” It’s my attempt at changing the subject back to the business and to sharing my news.“I do want the business to grow, but it may be more difficult over the next few months.”

His look turns questioning. When I smirk at him, he asks, “Care to explain?”

I reach into the pocket of my hoodie and as best as I can, conceal the test in my hands. Without saying anything else, I grab his hand away from the mixer and gently slide the test into it. It takes a minute for the object in his hand to register, but once it does, a huge smile overtakes his face, and the next thing I know, I'm being lifted off the ground and he's spinning me around.

Once he's done twirling me around a few times, he gently places me back on my feet. He slips the test back in my pocket before grabbing a hold of my hands, placing them on my stomach. He lays his directly on top. Then in a whisper, he declares, “I didn't think it was possible to love you more.”Then with his eyes full of love, his expression completely content and happy, he crashes his lips to mine, grabbing a hold of the back of my neck. While his tongue explores the inside of my mouth, he twirls my hair around his finger. To steady myself, I throw my arms around his waist, knowing that we will be here for a while.

When he finally pulls his mouth off mine, I see a lone tear at the corner of his eye.

“Gray,” I whisper. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Fuck yeah we are,” he shouts, making me giggle.

Standing there, in the middle of our messy kitchen, the making of donuts put on a temporary hold, I wrap my arms around my husband, the love of my life, the father of my unborn child. When I look up into his eyes, seeing how happy they are, I don't have to wonder anymore.

This is happy.

This is where I'm meant to be.

This is the definition of US.

I s the baby a boy or a girl? Find out in a bonus scene .

I n the mood for a holiday romance? Check out A Not So Merry Rescue, a small-town holiday romance.