Rough Love (Tannen Boys 1)

It’s the first time he’s called me Bruce and not Coach B, and my heart stops and then hammers out of my chest with joy.

Allyson looks at Cooper, his face open and happy, and then at me. I’m a rough farm guy with only my love to offer her, but I know she can see it, feel it. I pray it’s enough.

“Yes,” she says with a nod. “Oh, my God, yes!”

I slip the ring on her finger and stand up, scooping her into my arms to kiss her deeply. Cheers erupt around us, reminding me that the kids are watching. It’s the only thing that prevents me from shoving her to the floor and getting inside her. She’s in my heart so deep, and the urge to be inside her just as deeply is strong.

But her hoot of joy makes me so fucking happy. I spin her around, yelling out, “She said yes!” I set her down, picking up Cooper next and spinning him around too. “She said yes!”

Epilogue

Allyson

“Thanks, Rick. Have a Merry Christmas!” I call out, my bag already on my shoulder.

“You too, Allyson. And thank you again for the pie. I can’t wait to dig in.” I look over to see him ready to leave too, briefcase in one hand and an apple pie carefully held in the other. He’s eyeing the pie like he might eat it in the car on the way home rather than save it for Christmas dinner like he’s supposed to.

“Don’t forget that Carol is expecting that pie. She ordered it from Shayanne so that she didn’t have to bake one. And I can’t bring you another one because Shay has sold out, one hundred percent.”

The warning is clear, and his face falls, but it’s the truth. Shayanne has been slammed, rolling from smashed pumpkin season into her holiday busy time. She’s been making soap and apple pies like a madwoman. But it’s been fun, too, a way for Cooper and me to hop right into the family and help out. We’ve been picking apples, stirring cinnamon-y apple goodness on the stove, and putting ribbons on blocks of soap right alongside the Bennetts and Tannens.

“Fine. I won’t eat it . . . yet. But I’m having a slice for Christmas breakfast,” he declares. “It’s fruit, so that counts.”

I laugh, holding up my hands. “That’s between you and Carol. Negotiate your own deal with your wife.” He tilts his head considering that, but I pop his bubble. “You know she can out-deal you. Don’t get greedy or you won’t even get a slice.”

He laughs and nods, knowing I’m right. Carol is a pistol, but she’d win mostly because Rick would let her win any negotiation they had.

We pull out of the parking lot at the same time, heading to our respective homes for the long break until New Year’s.

The drive from town to the country doesn’t seem so long now that I’ve been doing it every day. It’s turned into my chance to decompress, and on days when there’s school, it’s my talk time with Cooper. Today, he’s already home at the farm on winter break.

At our home.

Almost as soon as I said yes to his proposal, Bruce offered to move into the city and commute to the farm to work, but it made more sense for Cooper and me to move to the farm. Cooper loves the wide-open space of the country, and having family around all the time was a powerful decision maker for me.

That’s been another big change for us. After some awkward and stuttered phone calls with my parents, I introduced them to Bruce and Cooper over brunch two weeks ago. They’d welcomed me back with open arms after I explained what I’d gone through that led me to cut them out of my life in the first place. My mom had cried, and we’d mourned the time lost, but we’re committed to making up for it. With their planning to come to Christmas dinner tomorrow, it’ll be one last thing Jeremy took from me that I’ve gotten back.

My courage, my happiness, my family, myself, and my soon-to-be husband. It’s all mine again, and I won’t let go of any of it for anything.

My tires crunch over the snow and ice along the drive, and I roll slowly up to park in my new space in front of the Tannen house. There’s a warm glow coming from several of the windows.

I bundle up and make a run for the front door. Inside, I pet Murphy behind the ears, even though the old dog doesn’t so much as lift his head. “Where is everyone?” I ask him, and his wrinkly brows raise but that’s it. “You’re the worst, but cutest, guard dog ever,” I tell him quietly as he rolls over, giving me his belly for scratches.