Chapter 22—Epilogue

* Riley *

Christmas day.

The best Christmas ever because I spent it with Tiff. We woke early to a fine smattering of snow on the ground. White Christmases were rare in Seattle. I made slow, sweet love to Tiff, then we dressed for the cold and made snow angels. Hers, of course, were perfect, while mine looked like some huge beast had rolled in the snow.

We took a walk along Lake Union hand in hand, with Otto bounding through the snow ahead of us. Stopping near the shore, I pulled Tiff to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gazed up at me. Our eyes met, and I smiled. She stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips across mine. Her eyes sparkled, and she giggled as I lifted her and spun her around. I tripped over my big feet and fell to the ground, cushioned by the soft snow. She fell on top of me, laughing, and brought her mouth down on mine again. She tasted like coffee and minty toothpaste; she tasted like all of tomorrow’s promises, today’s pleasures, and yesterday’s memories.

God, I loved her. And she loved me.

I don’t know how long we made out in the snow that morning, but Otto finally broke the spell and licked our faces. I could’ve stayed like that all day long.

As we strolled back to the house several blocks away, I glanced down at her, still a little amazed she was finally mine, and I was finally hers. One look into her eyes told me everything I needed to know. This was not a dream. This was real. This was forever.

This was us.

We had breakfast at her father’s, stopped by the barn to give Dex some Christmas carrots, then spent the rest of the day at Uncle Coop’s with the entire family, including Tiff’s mom.

Hours later we were stuffed and sitting on the couch in Uncle Coop and Aunt Izzy’s living room. Just about everyone had left, leaving Izzy, Coop, Connor, Tiff, and me.

Uncle Coop cuddled his son in his arms. Little Connor snuggled next to his dad’s broad chest and promptly fell asleep. I watched the moment with a mixture of envy and tenderness. I’d never known my father, and if I had, I doubted he’d be as good of a role model as Uncle Coop. Someday, I wanted to be the father Uncle Coop had been to me these past several years.

I swallowed hard. My eyes burned and blurred, and I blinked several times.

I’d never called anyone Dad in my life, never felt close enough to a man to call him that. At least not before.

Dad.

Father.

There was only one man who had earned that title, just as there was only one who’d earned Mom. Neither was my bio mom or dad.

But Tiff had said something the other night that stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave.

So Coop and Izzy are essentially your parents?

I was twenty-one years old and considering calling the two people who’d been my parents for over seven years Mom and Dad. Better late than never, I guessed.

Tiff’s eyes met mine, and she squeezed my hand, as if she’d read my mind. She’d done that a lot lately.

She leaned into me and whispered, “You’ll be a good parent. You’ve had good role models.”

I faked a shocked look. “Is there something I should know?”

It was her turn to look horrified. “Oh, hell, no,” she said, and laughed. “I was just saying that your aunt and uncle are incredible people.”

“I know.” I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat made it difficult to speak.

I wanted to show them how special they were with a gift money couldn’t buy. Self-doubt plagued me. What if they didn’t want me to call them that? After all, they were both relatively young to have a kid my age. Maybe it’d be weird for them. Maybe I just needed to ask them. Maybe the time was now.

I stood and cleared my throat. “I have something to ask you two.” I looked at Uncle Coop and Aunt Izzy.

They gazed up at me, both smiling.

I looked at Tiff, noting her puzzled expression. She came to stand by me, ready to support me whatever came next. I hugged her close.

“Could I”—I choked and fought for control—“call you Mom and Dad?” I rushed through the words before I lost it and blinked rapidly, trying to read their expressions through a haze of tears. Tiff’s proud smile gave me courage. No matter how they responded, I’d done the right thing. I’d spoken from the heart.

Uncle Coop reacted first. He stood, placed a sleeping Connor on the chair, and strode toward me. He stared at me, eye to eye, unsmiling, his face unreadable. I held my breath, not knowing what might come next and fighting off my old feelings of unworthiness.

A smile twisted the corners of his mouth, and I blew out a breath.

“I would be proud to call you my son, Riley,” he said, his grin now spreading across his face. I glanced at Aunt Izzy, who had risen to stand beside him. Tears ran down her face.

“Oh, Riley,” she cried, and Tiff cried along with her. Even Uncle Coop—Dad’s eyes were moist. He wrapped me in huge hug, and Izzy was hugging us a second later. The four of us were all crying, even Dad.

I had my answer.

I had my family, and after all these years of wanting, I had Tiff.

Sometimes love is hard work, but it’s worth it.

~ THE END ~

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