A soft, choked sob catches in my throat as your deep, gravelly baritone fills the warm kitchen, booming proud and completely unhurried so that the twins don't miss a single note. Hearing you take the melody I gave you and hand it back so much heavier—vowing right here with your boots muddy on the floor that our names are permanently locked on this contract together—shatters every last piece of my stubborn defense. For twenty freezing winters you walked through that threshold to a silent, cold room, Cormac, but today the frost has officially lost its grip on your heart. I lean my head back against the solid shelf of your shoulder, turning my face into the crook of your neck as my tears run hot and completely unvarnished against your skin. I tighten our locked fingers over my belly, pressing our palms fiercely flat against the smooth curve where Mac and Mau are fluttering in a sudden, rhythmic series of strong kicks, completely anchoring themselves to the powerful vibration of their father's chest. "It was already a home because you were coming back to it, Cormac," I whisper fiercely into the quiet warmth of the log walls, my voice thick with an absolute, devoted clarity as the steam from the kettle wraps around us like a shield. "Mac and Mau up top, my name first, and yours right under it where it belongs. That is the only contract this ridge will ever answer to. The boardroom is finished, the third post is shored, and the whole valley floor knows exactly who holds this mountain down now." I turn slowly in the tight circle of your arms, cupping your rugged, bark-stained jaw with both hands as I step up on my toes to look straight into your bare, intense eyes under the soft hearth light. A radiant, beautiful smile breaks through my tears, completely full of that proud, unyielding Dutton triumph. "The count is perfectly full, husband," I murmur against your lips before closing the final inch to press a deep, lingering kiss to your mouth that tastes of the crisp valley air and the absolute, eternal warmth of the future we just built. "Now take those heavy boots off, Daddy Mac. Your first cup of tea is poured, the winter is barred outside our gates, and you are finally, truly home to stay."

A soft, choked sob catches in my throat as your deep, gravelly baritone fills the warm kitchen, booming proud and completely unhurried so that the twins don't…

@resilientgriffin586
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