“Sure? Yes,” she said, pressing her lips to his before leaning away to look into his eyes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll love you on the day I die. That’s all that matters anymore. You and me.” Through her tears she managed to smile at him. “And the two people who loved us most will be smilin’ down, happy to finally see us together.”
He blinked his eyes and clenched his jaw, and Ginger knew that there was a lump in his throat so she didn’t force him to speak. Besides, the tenderness in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. She pressed her chest to his and tucked her head under his chin, closing her eyes and sighing as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer.
“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Jump to the one you love the most, darlin’.
Cain’s heart, which had been hers all along, beat out its eternal rhythm against Ginger’s heart, which was his until the last day of forever.
Epilogue
Eight months later
“. . . happy birthday to you!”
Ginger looked around the table, smiling at her mother, father, Klaus, and, finally, at Cain, who sat beside her, holding her hand under the table.
“Happy birthday, princess,” mouthed Cain, grinning at her.
It was the first time he could remember being invited to a birthday party at the McHuids’ manor, and originally he’d told Ginger to go alone and they’d celebrate later.
“Hmm,” she’d hummed, sitting up in bed and sighing before swinging her legs over the bed and padding naked into his bathroom.
Hmm. “Hmm” meant that she had something on her mind.
“What, ‘hmm’?”
She peeked out of his bathroom, grinning. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to move myself then.”
“Move what? What does that mean?”
“It means, hmm, I was plannin’ to move in here with you on my birthday. Heck, I’ve got most of the cottage packed up, but if you’re not interested in helpin’ me . . .”
She ducked back into the bathroom, and Cain sprang out of bed, crossing his bedroom in three strides. He stood buck naked in the bathroom doorway, staring at her sitting on the counter, legs crossed, trying not to smile.
“Are you movin’ in with me?” he demanded.
“Well, I stay here four nights a week anyway. I figure . . .”
He’d stayed rigidly still, arms splayed, hands clutching the doorframe, eyes trained on hers like lasers.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m movin’ in here with you . . . if I’m still invited.”
He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but as he released it in a whoosh, he stalked into the bathroom, placed his hands on her knees, and spread them gently so he could stand between them.
“Are you serious, or are you teasin’ me?”
He’d asked her at least once a week since January. Eight months. Thirty-two weeks. And she’d always said “Not yet” or “Someday” or “Soon.”
She straightened up, pressing her naked breasts to his chest and looking up into his eyes. “I’m serious. I’m ready. I want to move in with you.”
His lips dropped to hers at the same time his arms encircled her, lifting her and carrying her back to bed to show her how much it meant to him that she was ready to take this next step.
That had been a few weeks ago, and she was mostly moved in at this point. Today they would pick up the last of her things and turn the cottage keys back to her parents, and she’d move in with Cain for good.
Which made today one of the best days of his life for many reasons—some still to come.
“Make a wish, Ginger,” said her mother. “The candles are meltin’.”
“They already came true,” she said, smiling up at Cain, a million promises in her deep brown eyes.
“Make a wish anyway,” said Ranger, gesturing to the cake and grinning at his daughter.
She took a deep breath and blew them out, and her parents, Cain, and Klaus clapped merrily.
“Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag!” exclaimed Klaus, who’d given Ginger a horse that he’d carved from a bright white piece of balsa. It was a prancing Lipizzan, of course, and it sat proudly at Ginger’s place now, waiting for a bite of her cake.
“Danke, Klaus,” she said, smiling across the table at Cain’s father.
It had taken some convincing for Miz Magnolia to break down the high social barrier she’d built between the McHuids and the Wolframs, but Ranger’s full support of Ginger and Cain’s relationship had helped. And little by little, Ginger’s mother seemed to accept that the Wolframs, for better or worse, were a part of her life, and it would be best to accept them, on behalf of her husband and daughter, than fight them all.
For his part, Cain still wasn’t Miz Magnolia’s biggest fan, but she was gentler now than she’d ever been, sobered by the recent losses of Woodman and her mother-in-law, and he could even imagine a day when there was a true and lasting peace between them. Someday.
An hour later, after cake and Champagne, Ginger and Cain bid good-bye to their parents, and Cain promised to drop off his father’s truck tomorrow. The three parents waved from the front porch as they pulled away, headed down the driveway. But just before leaving McHuid’s, Cain turned left, trundling down the gravel road and parking in front of the barn.