Author's Note: This is one of those plot bunnies that needed to be given a little carrot before I could move on to work on my WIPs. It is entirely possible that the bunny is much, much bigger than I am claiming, and will demand many, many more carrots after the current WIPs are finished....
It wasn't until he pulled up to the old house that Calleigh had recently inherited from her grandmother and saw her bent over the bottom porch step, swinging a hammer in nothing but cut-off jean shorts, a thin white tanktop, and the sweat of a muggy Louisiana summer that Eric realized how completely, desperately he loved this woman. It hit him like a punch to the stomach, stole his breath so that he had to take a minute to recover before he killed the engine and cracked the door open to step into a humidity so thick it made breathing feel like drowning.
When she stood and turned, tucking the hammer into her belt loop and raising one hand to shield her eyes from the sun as the other waved a greeting, a smile brighter than the sun illuminating her face, he realized that this was what he wanted. He wanted to come home to Calleigh, in a big house, with a yard and kids and dogs. He regretted suddenly that he hadn't known this would happen, that he hadn't come here with a ring for her, because he knew in that moment that he couldn't leave this place without asking her to be his forever.