“Only if there’s a tree and a swing,” he tells me.
“I know,” I say, smiling. “I’ll take care of it, and you, and these two kiddos.”
“If I didn’t have a bandaged head with a hole going into my brain right now, I’d say I’m the luckiest man in the world. But even with the bandage and hole, I have to be at least the second luckiest man in the world.”
“Only you would be smiling and laughing just hours after brain surgery.” I lean over and kiss him gently on his lips.
His arm lifts with a slight struggle and he places it heavily on my back, pulling me in a little more. “Keep kissing me.”
“I won’t ever stop doing that,” I tell him.
“Ever?” he asks.
“I think that may be how we ended up with Ever,” I whisper into his mouth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“I DON’T REMEMBER signing any papers,” I tell Cammy. “What are you talking about? You got us a house?”
“You did sign the papers!” she laughs. “You may have been in a drug-induced state, but you signed the papers. Your dad took care of the rest. And as far as I’m aware, Hunter and your dad have been working day and night in the house to get as much of the renovation done as possible, so we could at least move right into it.”
“Where is this place? I can’t believe you did this without even showing me,” I tell her.
“Do you trust me?” she asks me.
“That’s a really hard question,” I reply with a sarcastic groan.
“Get in the truck,” she tells me.
I do as the lady says, waving goodbye to Mom as we pull out of her driveway. Their house was our first stop after the long-ass drive home from Philly, but mostly because I didn’t know if we were staying with them for a bit until we found a place to live. I had no idea that Cammy had been secretly handling the living situation for the last two weeks while I was in the hospital.
We drive down some familiar streets and toward the part of town I’ve always loved the most, being more farmland than residential. The houses are spread out and the land lots are much larger, which is something I’ve always dreamt of, yet could never afford. Tori wanted to live as close to the downtown area as possible, and I lost that battle, but when two people can’t agree on what color of sheets to put on the bed, there’s little give going on.
“I think you’re going down the wrong street,” I tell her. “And you’re driving my truck like a chick.”
She looks over me briefly, fixing her eyes on me. “I know where I’m going. I lived in this town half of my life too.”
“But there’s only one house on this street, Cam, and it’s not for sale. Trust me.”
“You’re right,” she tells me with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s not for sale.”
We pull into the driveway of the old farmhouse, the one I’ve been sneaking behind since I was a kid. The one Cammy and I used to visit more often than we should have. “Cam,” I say.
She places the truck in park, and now I’m really wondering what’s going on. “Is this our new house?” Ever asks from the back seat.
Cammy turns around to smile at Ever but doesn’t answer her.
“Cameron,” I say sternly, making sure to emphasize the use of her full name.
She hops out of the truck and dives into the back seat to pull Gavin from his car seat. “Come on, Ever,” she says.
I slowly step out of the truck, keeping my speed down like the doc told me to do, even though I’m on edge trying to figure out what’s going on right now. I open the back door, letting Ever out and she wraps her arm around me. “Well?” Ever asks.
“Welcome home,” Cammy says. A burst of emotions explodes through my chest, as nothing has ever felt so right. I’ve never felt so damn lucky in my entire life. I pick up my pace and step up onto the farmer’s porch, looking back at Cammy once more for approval before I open the front door to what I’m still silently praying isn’t someone else’s house. “Go ahead,” she says.
As the opening door reveals the interior, I find a furnished house, half with my stuff, half with new things. The floors and walls have all been redone, and Hunter and Dad are standing smack in the middle of the living area, off to the right. “You shittin’ me?”
“Welcome home, son,” Dad says.
“Well, now you can take over some of the family dinners and Sunday breakfasts,” Hunter says. “You have no more excuses.”
“Can we afford this place?” I ask Cammy, knowing I make a good salary, but it hasn’t ever seemed like enough to afford a place this big.