There was nothing.

Ten minutes later, I saw his shadow jogging toward the Expedition.

Not surprisingly, it jogged to the driver’s side.

He pulled open my door and ordered, “Scoot. I drive.”

“Other side, Creed. You got to break in. I get to drive.”

“Baby, scoot,” he clipped.

“I’m not moving.”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning and I just nabbed a hard drive with stolen formulas that are patent pending and worth seven hundred million dollars and now I’m standing by a truck arguing with my woman. Seriously?” he asked.

“Other side, Creed,” I answered then he moved, swiftly, and I found my seatbelt was unfastened and my cowboy booted feet on the ground.

I glared up at him.

He angled into the truck and looked down at me.

“Other side, Sylvie.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” I hissed.

“Right back at ‘cha, baby.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Then I stomped to the other side and dragged myself in.

“Let’s roll,” I snapped.

Creed rolled.

I scowled as the landscape passed by.

Then I announced, “I’m putting out my own shingle. You’re too bossy.”

“You’re welcome to do that, Sylvie, when you’re not pregnant or nursing.”

“I’m not nursing!” I bit out.

“We’ll see,” he muttered.

I rolled my eyes.

Creed turned on the radio then switched it to news.

I immediately leaned forward and switched it to country.

“Pain in my ass,” he murmured.

“Bite me,” I replied.

Silence.

Then Creed burst out laughing.

I was in a bad mood but, still, I liked that sound so much, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

But I did it with my head turned to the side window so Creed couldn’t see.

* * * * *

Five months later…

The lady behind Bashas’ bakery counter handed Creed the bag of donuts.

I snatched it out of his hand, opened it, pulled out the chocolate covered, chocolate buttercream filled donut, opened my mouth huge, shoved in as much donut as I could get, bit down and chewed.

Creed stared down at me.

I stared up at him and chewed.

Creed looked to the bakery lady.

“She’s eating for two,” he shared.

Her eyes went down to my enormous belly then they went back to Creed.

“This was not lost on me,” she replied.

I swallowed and shoved more donut in.

“Give us another of those, would you?” Creed asked.

“On it,” she muttered.

My Creed.

Totally genius.

I shoved more donut in and Creed looked back at me.

Through donut, I announced, “While we’re here, we need to pick up some Snickers.”

Creed blinked.

Then he tagged me behind the head, forced me to do a face plant in his chest and burst out laughing.

* * * * *

Four months later…

“I feel the hot coming through my shoes,” Kara and Brand’s cousin whined.

My eyes swept to Kara and Brand.

Kara was looking at me, lips twitching.

Brand was pressing his together, probably so he wouldn’t say anything.

He lost this fight and opened his mouth but not a word came out before…

“Brand,” Creed warned low and I looked at him to see him tuck our son, Jesse, tighter to his chest.

I loved that.

Loved it.

I looked back at Brand and his face was red, not from embarrassment, from trying to keep his mouth shut.

I burst out laughing.

* * * * *

Creed

Thirteen months later…

Creed shut the door on the rental, his other hand curled around the handle of the cooler.

He moved through the trees into the grass, feeling the warmth of the sun shining on his head and beating through his tee.

He walked through the grass, his mind registering the cool of the turf on his bare feet.

Something you didn’t get in Arizona.

Something you got in Kentucky.

He lifted his head from his study of the grass, his eyes took in the scene and his body rocked to a halt.

Brand was in the lake, screwing around, able to entertain himself just as he was skilled at entertaining others. He was happy to be swimming on his own.

Kara was in her bikini at the side of the lake, feet probably sunk to the ankles in mud. Still, she was smiling and bouncing in the water, a giggling, squealing Jesse in her arms.

Sylvie was sitting at the end of the pier in shorts and a cami, her tanned legs over the side, her arms behind her, weight in her hands, head tipped back to the sun. The huge rock that he’d placed a diamond encrusted band under in Vegas two months after she moved to Phoenix blinking in the rays.

As he suspected, neither of his kids had a problem with him making Sylvie his wife. They also didn’t blink when told they were getting another sibling. Brand had two new people to jabber to and Kara had two new people to love.

They were happy.

Sylvie was happy.

So was Creed.

He forced himself to come unstuck and started moving again thinking what he thought when Kara was put in his arms. When Brand was set there. When he tucked his and Sylvie’s bundled Jesse close. When he studied his Sylvie, sleeping in sheets filled with rose petals.

He was thinking his Dad would like one f**kuva lot all the love that Creed had created, but better, earned.

“You got him?” he called to Kara as he put his foot up on the pier.

“Yeah, Dad,” Kara called back and shit, she was growing into her beauty. A year, two, he was going to be f**ked.

God, he hoped the kid in Sylvie’s belly was another boy.

Please, God, he prayed, let it be another boy.

He moved down the pier and saw Sylvie had twisted, her torso just slightly but her neck all the way around. Her arms were still behind her. The diamonds he gave her twinkling. The green at her neck sparkling.

Every day, every single day, she wore his green.

Every day.

She smiled at him.

Warmth that had nothing to do with sun radiated down the pier and saturated him all the way through.

Creed smiled back.

There she was, his woman wearing his ring, his green with his baby in her belly sitting at the end of their pier.

His Sylvie.

His dreamweaver, able to weave dreams doing nothing but sitting on a pier and smiling.