The One I Want

“And eternity.”

He chuckles. “And eternity with. Through chaos and sunshine, we can survive anything together. Will you marry me?”

There it is, one of my biggest fears—commitment—wrapped with a bow and his heart on his sleeve. But now, because of my CEO Andrew and Ice Cream Drew, I don’t have that fear. Everything I feel for him can be summed up in one word. “Yes.”

And then two because I do, which will make it official. But we don’t need to worry about that right now. That’s way down the road.

Baby steps.

Or so she thought . . .

Epilogue

Drew

For someone who claimed she was scared of commitment, she sure did plan with this. The Jacobs’ Garden officially opened to the public. My stunning fiancée planned every plant, designed the garden, and wrote the book to sell in the shop in her spare time. During the days, she furthered her research on her initial findings, which exposed the dirty tactics of her ex-boyfriend when he failed to produce the same results.

Sadly, I didn’t get to punch his thieving face. Maybe one day. Either way, it was a great day.

Today is another.

The garden is dedicated in honor of her parents, Daisy and Chris Jacobs. It’s taken healing and therapy, but Juni’s come to realize that their passion reached beyond them. It’s touched the world in so many technologies. She’s grateful most days, like today, standing in the garden.

Others, she still wished she could have just had normal parents. Rubbing her tiny belly, she promises our baby that she’ll always be there. Even when they’re teenagers wanting to lock themselves in their rooms to play video games, she’ll be there.

Can’t wait to see how that plays out.

Right now, I’m living in the moment. The future doesn’t matter. I say, “I do.”

Gil walked her down the aisle, but when a breeze blew in on this hot September day, nine seventeen to be exact, to match the time the universe and Cookie brought us together, she held my hand and told me she could sense her parents smiling down on her.

Rascal runs in circles, making it really hard to get that ring from him. It was Juni’s idea to make him the ringbearer. When Jackson catches him in a grass patch, the ring is saved but not Jackson’s shoes, unfortunately.

“Andrew, Mr. Christiansen, my Drew. You were uptight. Controlled. Meticulous. Regimented. Scheduled. Grumpy. Handsome. Kind. Generous. And loving. You’ve been my biggest cheerleader and my greatest ally. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel like the luckiest woman alive. I’m so in love with all of you. I love you so much it kicks.”

“Kicks?”

“Oh my God, the baby just kicked.” She shoves my hand on her stomach. “Can you feel it?”

My breath catches just like hers when we feel our little baby kick for the first time. Just one small thing . . . we hadn’t told anyone. Her baggy sweaters had come in handy until we were ready, which was determined to be after the wedding. So when we look at our friends and family gathered around, we say, “Surprise.”

“Jinx,” we say in unison again.

Laughing, she says, “Double jinx.”

“I didn’t know there was a double jinx.”

She says, “The official rules state it can only be used in the case of a tie.” She shrugs. “I don’t make the rules. I just play by them.”

She’s sounding a lot like me these days.

Instead of cake, we celebrate our nuptials with pink strawberry donuts and a taco buffet feast because that’s what she was craving this morning. The caterer wasn’t happy, but he didn’t mind the big tip.

Just as Juni finishes a donut, she dusts her hands on a napkin and asks, “Do you want to tell your mom about the science fair connection now?”

“Another time. I’m rather liking this connection better right now.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you how cute it is that your first word was leaf. Leaf, Drew. That’s another connection. I said tree. You said leaf.”

“That’s cute that you said tree since you’re a Juniper and all. But my first word wasn’t leaf.”

Holding me by the rolls of my shirt sleeves, she kisses under my chin. “Yes, it was, babe.”

I angle my head down to catch her pretty eyes. “No. My first word was tie.”

“Tie?” she spits in disgust. “Like what you wear with a suit?”

“Yes. It’s a good first word.”

“Not as good as leaf.”

Okay, now I’m a little offended. “I’m not sure why you thought my first word was leaf, but it wasn’t,” I say, standing my ground. “Why did you think it was leaf?”

With a glass of wine in hand, my mom comes to hug us. She says, “I could tell you two were meant to be the moment I met Juni.”