As beautiful as this was, Jake was conflicted about it.

It was truth that in the last nine months Josie had been more mother to Ethan than he’d had in eight years from Sloane.

But it still stuck in his craw remembering his call to Sloane to broach the subject of her giving up all legal claim to her own son. It stuck in his craw the memory of her trying to hide the relief in her voice through the fake uncertainty she used to ask, “Are you sure, Jake?”

In the end, he knew down to his bones it was her loss and he knew precisely how huge that loss was.

And her loss was his wife’s gain.

And his son’s.

And Amber’s and Conner’s.

And last, his.

He knew Josie felt this, all of it when Jake saw the pink move into her cheeks, her throat convulse, the wet hit her eyes, eyes she didn’t tear away from Ethan.

Finally, her voice husky, she whispered a question, a question that Sloane didn’t ask. That being how Ethan felt about it.

“Are you sure, honey?”

Ethan’s reply was, “Can I call you Mom?”

It was then Jake knew his son knew what he’d been missing.

And was happy with what he got.

So maybe it wasn’t so bad when a kid got put on this earth with a shit mother that he got to choose the one he wanted.

Josie knew Ethan was happy too and Jake knew that when the papers fluttered to the ground as Josie covered her face with her hands and almost went down when her legs went out from under her.

Jake caught her and hauled her into his arms, hers closing around his shoulders as she shoved her face in his neck and her body shook against his with her tears.

He held her close and stroked her back as he heard Ethan ask in confusion and some fear, “Does that mean she likes it?”

Amber’s breath hitched so it was Conner who answered.

“Yeah, Eath, bud, she likes it.”

Josie jerked out of his arms and turned to Ethan, dropping down to her knees and taking his face in her hands.

She yanked him close and said, “No, I don’t like it, sweetheart. I love it. Because I love you. So it makes me very happy. I’m delighted it makes you happy too. And I’d be honored if you’d call me Mom.”

Ethan lips quivered then he fell forward, Josie caught him in her arms and Jake had to reach out, claim his daughter and hold her close because she was now sobbing loudly.

Conner let this go on for a while before he asked with fake exasperation, “Crap, are you gonna sign the papers, or what?”

Still holding Ethan close, Josie looked up at Jake.

“Darling, I believe I need your assistance. I don’t think I can get up in this dress.”

At that, finally, Jake allowed himself to laugh.

Conner did it with him.

Ethan, probably not knowing why he was doing it, still joined in.

Amber sniffled but through it giggled.

But Josie simply stared up at her husband and raised her brows.

Jake let his girl go and helped his woman to her feet.

Conner retrieved the papers from the floor and got out the pen.

The second he did, Josie snatched both from him, strode to a table by the window, and without further delay, she signed them.

When she did, Amber burst into loud tears again and Conner looked to the ceiling but did it pulling his sister in his arms.

Ethan hugged Josie around her middle.

Jake got close to his wife and their son, put his hand to his boy’s head and his arm around his woman’s waist.

It was then it happened.

He looked to Con, saw his son’s gaze on him and he read it in his eyes.

He felt his daughter looking at him and he saw it there too.

He looked down at his youngest to see Eath looking up at him and he saw the same.

And finally, Jake looked into his wife’s face and it was shining from her eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck.

It was right there. He was getting it from all of them.

Christ, they’d never quit believing he could make miracles.

Jake felt suddenly raw. Humble. Grateful. Honored.

Loved.

And his family being in the moment, it was lost on all of them that outside, the breeze blew wisteria petals like purple confetti through the air and the lavender bushes swayed in a way that could only mean the very heavens sighed.

* * * * *

There was a knock at the door to their suite and Jake, finally shrugging off his fucking suit jacket, thanking fuck this was the last time he was getting married, looked that way.

Josie was in the bathroom. She’d gone there almost the minute she walked in.

She had a shit ton of suitcases.

This was because, the next day, they were driving to Boston and flying first class to take their honeymoon in Paris.

Along with the jewelry, this was his wedding present to his wife.

But the bag Josie took in the bathroom was a lot smaller and separate from her suitcases and Jake looked forward to seeing what she had in it because he figured whatever that was was his wedding present.

He also figured Josie would give him a good one.

He tossed his jacket over a chair and moved to the door. Looking through the peephole, he saw what he expected to see.

Room service.

But when he opened the door, he saw what he didn’t expect to see.

There were strawberries, a bowl of whipped cream and chocolates, as he’d ordered.

But there was not one bottle of Dom Perignon that he’d also ordered.

Instead, there were two.

He looked to the guy who had his hands to the tray.

“Only ordered one bottle of champagne,” he said, not minding having two but he wanted his wife to have good champagne, not get slaughtered on it.

“The other is a gift,” the guy replied.

Amond.

He found this acceptable so Jake moved out of the way, the guy wheeled the cart in and Jake gave him a tip.

He put out the do not disturb sign, locked the door behind him and picked up the little card that was resting against one of the champagne buckets.

On the outside, it said Josephine and Jake.

He slid his finger through the flap, opened it and pulled out the card.

Then he froze as he read:

Be happy.

Henry

Fuck.

The man had been invited to the wedding. He was not over it so he didn’t come. He’d been gentle with Josie telling her this but that didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed.

Jake got him. If Josie was marrying another man, he’d be on another continent to get away from that shit.

Which was where Henry was.

But the champagne was a solid gesture that would make Jake’s wife happy.

Even so, when he heard the door open behind him and he turned and watched his woman walk out in figure-skimming, all lace ivory nightie through which he could see little ivory panties, her hair down and curling around her shoulders, he tossed the card to the tray.

He’d tell her later.

Now, it was Jake who was going to make her happy.

So he set about doing that and started by walking across the room straight to her.

The instant he moved her way, her pretty blue eyes got soft in that way he knew now from experience was when she was thinking about how much she loved him, and she smiled.

In the end, it was Josie that made him happy.

A while later, he figured, as he licked the last of the champagne from between her breasts and heard the purr glide up her throat, he hadn’t done half bad.

* * * * *

In what would soon be the demolished garage at Lavender House, Jake moved a box from a shelf.

When he did, he watched a white envelope become dislodged from behind it, fluttering to the ground.

It landed face up and Jake saw the writing.

It was then he froze.

He was in the garage cleaning it out. It had to go because they needed the space. The architect had designed a garage that would fit perfectly with the house, not altering the look too much, not altering the feel of the place at all, and it would allow them to enter through the pantry. It was going to be three cars so Amber, and then Ethan, would not have to walk through the weather to get to the house or scrape their windshields.