Three Months Later . . .

“Then what did he say?” Delilah asks, drawing figure eights in the sand.

How am I expected to finish a story about a minister when she’s dressed in a skimpy bikini? She’s way too distracting, and some guys were eyeing her earlier. I almost kicked their asses for ogling my wife like that.

I’ve discovered it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing though. Whether she’s wearing a fancy dress in Paris or she’s mostly naked on the beaches of California, they stare everywhere she goes.

Makes me miss the privacy of the farm where I’m the only one who gets to stare at her.

Lounging back on the sand, her baby belly is barely a pooch. I actually think that’s from the hot dog she had at lunch, along with the salad, the large glass of water, and the two scoops of ice cream. I don’t argue though. She’s insisting it’s what our baby boy needs.

I’m kind of hoping for a girl. She’ll be a badass like her mom and learn to throw a football like her dad. Guess we’ll find out in about five more months. In the meantime, it’s been one long honeymoon. Shelby’s taken over the farm, with the help of Billy. Ricardo and Paloma also manage the fields like they always have. They are going to love the vacation to Hawaii we’ve booked for them when we return. They’ve been not only employees, but friends and parent figures to Delilah and me for years.

The floor plan for our home on the other side of the lake is approved and should be built before the baby comes.

There’s a lot to be grateful for, and I owe it all to the woman next to me. “Who?”

“The minister, Jason.”

“He said I’m where I’m meant to be.”

Waggling her finger at me, she says, “Come over here.”

She’s irresistible. I kneel down between her legs and then drop my hands on either side of her head. I’ve traveled the world with this woman and nothing compares to her natural beauty.

“What is it, sweetheart of mine?”

“I’ve been thinking even though we’ve both been to hell and back, we are finally living the life planned for us all along.”

“I have no doubt.”

Lowering myself down, I’m careful about putting too much weight on her. I kiss her lips, and she moans into my mouth. I’m hard from the sound. “Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Can we order room service?”

“Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Any. Thing.”

“I have a few ideas.”

“Do they include me or food?” Jumping to my feet, I offer her a hand. “What are you craving?”

When I help her to her feet, she presses against me. “You. Let’s go play. I brought your jersey with us.”

“You want me to put it on?”

“No.” She winks. “I’m going to wear it for you . . . with nothing else underneath.” She grabs her bag and walks through the sand, kicking it up with her feet. My mouth is still hanging open when she stops and looks back. “Well, don’t keep me waiting. I have a new cheer I want to show you.”

“Does it include you being naked?”

“It does. C’mon, MVP, show me how you earned that title. Maybe with a few tackles and first downs.”

Jogging, I catch up with her. “I was thinking of a touchdown there to kick things off.”

“As long as you drive it home, Quarterback, I’m in this game.”

“You’re very good with the football talk, but how about I show you my best moves, baby?” Taking her hand, I stop my beautiful wife. “Hey.”

She smiles at me. “Hey.”

Feeling much like the shy kid I was once around her, I hesitate, but then I step into her warmth and touch her cheek. “After the adventures we’ve had, traveling to all these places these past few months, have your dreams come true?”

“Don’t you know, sweet man? I didn’t have to travel the world to make my dreams come true. I just needed to be with you.” She leans into my hand. “Do you think the farm can give you the peace to calm your restless soul?”

“It’s never about the farm, or the lake, though both are peaceful places. It’s always been about you.” I kiss her forehead and whisper, “I’d lost myself, but I found my way home because you gave me a reason to stay.”

She takes my hand from her cheek and lowers it to her belly. “Now you’ll have two reasons.”

“How do you feel about three?”

Though her eyes go wide, she doesn’t say no. “Is that why we’re building a five-bedroom house?”

Moving my hands to the sides of her waist, I wiggle her just a little. “No, that’s for the fourth baby I was going to beg you to have down the road. That’s why we’re building five bedrooms.”

“You want four kids, Jason?”

“I want a big family, sweetness.” I sneak in a kiss attack on her neck, making her giggle.

“You keep that up and we might end up with a football team.”

“That’s the plan.”

With her hand on the back of my head, she tilts to give me more access. “Oh Lord, help me. You are my complete undoing.”

When I lean back to get a good look at my girl, she tilts her head, her ponytail swinging to the side, looking just as beautiful as she was that day we first began. Taking her hand, I kiss her palm, and the side of her mouth before whispering, “I was undone the moment I laid eyes on you, so we’ll call it even.”

* * *

I thought I knew what love was. It was all tied up in a pretty package of silky hair and soft skin, a smile that warmed me, and a soul that cared for me. Delilah held every emotion I’d ever felt—happiness, heartbreak, protectiveness, possessiveness, caring, and an emotion I’ve not been able to identify with a single word, but a bundle of things I feel when I look at her.

It’s overwhelming and soft, rounded on the corners, but sharp-tongued, fiery and passionate, pure and comfort, desire and lust, kindness and genuine . . . safe. Complicated to describe. Easy to feel. Perhaps sanctuary is the best word for it.

That changes the day I meet my daughter. My head clears and things aren’t so complicated after all. All these feelings—jumbled inside my heart in a mass of emotion—become clear when I look at Delilah with tears in my eyes. I still need more than one word to describe what my wife gives me that day:

Love.

Hope.

Faith.

Faith Noelle Koster is born on a Sunday morning in early spring. She comes into this world screaming, but as soon as I hold her in my arms, she stops and coos. This little human might be small, but she is mighty. When her tiny fingers wrap around one of mine, she does more than hold my hand, she steals my heart.

Two days after we arrive home with our little bundle of joy, I wake up before five in the morning to find the bed next to me empty. I go down the hall and find my wife sitting in a rocking chair holding our newborn. Watching her in this sweet moment, I’m reminded how I once thought I didn’t deserve this life. I didn’t believe that a sinner like myself deserved solace from the wrongs committed.

But here I am, living proof that sometimes bad guys simply need to find their purpose to be good. Sometimes their souls aren’t completely black, just a little singed around the edges. Sometimes it just takes seeing the light to make it all right.

I walk into the room and catch Delilah’s eyes. Her early morning smile is one of my favorites, though she argues she’s tired and has dark circles. “How’d I get so lucky to be your husband and Faith’s father?”

Reaching for my hand, I kneel next to her chair and take it. “It was never about luck, babe. It was destiny.”

Destiny.