“Of course they will.” She paused. “And as long as we’re raising hell, I can’t decide what’ll cause more trouble—giving the baby my last name or yours.”
Matt grinned. “We could always hyphenate it.”
Dara laughed. “That’s just cruel.”
“Isn’t it?”
“It so is.” She met his gaze with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Let’s do it. I think a Marley-Coolidge baby is exactly what this town needs.”
“Or maybe Coolidge-Marley. That should get a few people talking.”
She snorted. “You’re a wicked man, Mr. Coolidge.”
“Birds of a feather, Ms. Marley.” Chuckling, he kissed her softly.
Regardless of the baby’s last name, there’d definitely be one hell of a scandal in Aspen Mill. And there’d be an even bigger one when Adam Coolidge’s plans to “reinvent” the whole town were revealed. But for now, while the town gossips no doubt spread the word, and both the Coolidge and Marley families were fit to be tied, Matt and Dara held each other beneath the warm glow of her front porch light. Without the farm hanging over his head, he could concentrate on more important things. Like the woman he loved and the baby they were expecting. Everything else just seemed…irrelevant.
Dara exhaled. “So what do we do now?”
“Hmm.” Matt pursed his lips. “Want to go inside and make fun of some pornos?”
“I would love to go inside and make fun of some pornos.”
Epilogue
A year or so later.
“So.” Matt glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “You ready for this?”
“I’m so ready for it that if you drive any slower, I’m going to make you pull over and let me drive.”
He laughed, taking her hand as he accelerated down the tree-lined two-lane road. “Better?”
“Much.”
She wished he could go even faster, but not on this road. She’d just have to be patient for a few more minutes.
The new house was ten miles outside of Aspen Mill, giving them plenty of breathing room while Adam tore down the Coolidge farm and tried to turn the town into another Goldmount.
Matt had moved into her place two months before the baby was born, and now they were finally moving into their own custom-built house. God bless the man, Matt had handled the entire process of having the house designed and built. He had a list of things Dara wanted, and they’d gone together to pick out the piece of property, but he’d insisted on handling all the planning and such while she focused on the baby. She’d been grateful for that, because as much as she wanted to be involved, she just couldn’t focus. Keeping her work caught up during her last trimester had been enough of a challenge—apparently “pregnant brain” wasn’t a myth after all. Then the baby came, bringing with him sleep deprivation and hormone crashes and a mercifully short—but brutal nonetheless—period of postpartum depression.
She was beyond thankful for Matt. From day one, he’d been a wonderful father. Diapers, walking the halls in the middle of the night, doctor’s appointments—he did it all, especially when she was still recovering. There’d even been a few times when she’d realized he was knuckling through a migraine without complaining.
The first couple of weeks had been rough, with both of them exhausted to the point of sniping at each other. They’d found a rhythm, though, and they’d adapted to the demands of their new little dictator. When the depression hit and knocked Dara off balance, Matt had made sure both she and the baby were taken care of.
If ever she’d had any doubts that she and Matt could make this work, those vanished during the first three months of their son’s life. They’d seen each other at their very worst—exhausted, stressed, bitchy—and when the smoke cleared, nothing had changed.
Well, she couldn’t say nothing had changed. The first time she’d walked in and found Matthew curled up on Matt’s chest, or when she’d heard Matt talking to his son when he didn’t think anyone was around, she’d fallen so much more in love with him. One of the high chairs had even taken up permanent residence in the kitchen so Matt could have the kid in there while he was cooking.
Last week, Matt had taken him to the barn for the first time. He’d carefully introduced him to one of the horses, and the baby’s eyes instantly lit up. When Matthew smiled and he’d reached for the horse, she actually felt Matt’s heart melting.
“Like father, like son,” Beth had said. “Guess we’re gonna need a smaller saddle.”
Grinning, Dara had said, “Or they can just ride double until Matt’s willing to let go of him.”