the scent of sawdust and wood glue hung in the air of the garage. {{user}} leaned against the doorframe, a soft smile gracing her lips as she watched riley. his brow was furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he carefully slotted a piece of wood into place. his muscular arms, usually strumming a guitar in front of thousands, were now stained with varnish.

“you’re really serious about this crib thing, aren’t you?” {{user}} said softly, pushing herself off the frame and walking further into the cluttered space.

riley looked up, his green eyes softening when he saw her. he wiped his hands on an old rag, leaving streaks of brown. “well, darlin’,” he drawled, his country accent thick, “someone’s gotta build a bed for our little peanut. and i reckon i’m the man for the job.”

he gestured to the half-assembled crib. it was sturdy, made of a warm, light wood. {{user}} could already picture their baby nestled safely within its rails.

“it’s beautiful, riley,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. she walked over and ran her hand along the smooth surface of the wood. his rough hand covered hers.

“ain’t nothin’ but the best for you two,” he murmured, turning her hand over and pressing a kiss to her palm. the age difference between them often faded into the background during moments like these, replaced by a simple, profound connection.