Aw. Damn, he was good. “I let my stupid fears get the most of me,” she admitted. “I was afraid of being a crazy wife and mom. I don’t know how to do this, Sawyer. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You have the best instincts of anyone I know,” Sawyer said. “Just listen to them and you’ll do fine. As for being a crazy wife and mom—never going to happen.”

The baby squirmed and then let out a howl.

Chloe hugged her. “Hush, Bean,” she murmured softly, gently rocking her in her arms. “Mommy’s very busy having a freakout.”

At the sound of her voice the baby went utterly still and then relaxed. Her eyes opened, that shocking newborn glorious blue blinking up at Chloe as she turned her little head so that her cheek rested on Chloe’s chest where Tara’s poor robe-turned-ball gown gaped.

The skin-to-skin contact seemed to comfort the infant, and she closed her eyes again, content to lie there.

A feeling of peace washed over Chloe. Peace and…

Contentment.

She looked up into Sawyer’s dark, warm gaze, and that feeling washed over her again, doublefold now. “You’re right,” she whispered.

“Wow,” he said. “You’re more tired than I thought if you’re admitting that.”

She laughed, and shook her head, and then let her smile fade. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you. I nearly pushed you away—”

“Impossible,” he said. “Don’t you know yet? If I ever lost you, I’d lose myself.”

Her eyes filled again. “Oh, Sawyer. I’m so sorry—”

He put a finger over her lips and then bent low and replaced it with his mouth, effectively silencing her with a soft, sweet, meaningful kiss. “No apologies for your emotions,” he murmured. “Ever.”

She relaxed, letting his love and affection feed her soul, relieved and grateful he understood her.

Sawyer looked down at the baby and then back into Chloe’s eyes. “Thank you for my daughter. For being my wife. For being my entire life. Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered back, knowing that this was one she’d never forget.

“Can we come in now?” asked a muffled voice from the other side of the office door, one with imperious attitude and a southern accent.

Tara.

“Yes,” Chloe called, and to her shock and surprise, the entire town seemed to squeeze into the office. Her sisters. Her sisters’ husbands. Lucille. Mallory. All their friends. There was champagne and toasts, and through it all, Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off her new baby daughter or her husband.

“Happy?” Sawyer quietly asked her.

“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”