I shake my head slowly. “Baby…no one held a gun to my head. I’m here because I can’t imagine being anywhere else. Because you’ve become my everything. I’m really excited to become a dad and to build a life together. It won’t always be easy, but I hope I can love you enough to make it worthwhile. You’re worth it to me.”
I’m not sure which part of what I just said finally strikes a nerve but it’s like the fight, the anxiety, everything she’s been holding in, drains right out of her. And she just looks up at me, regret etched into her pretty features.
“God, I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry for leaving you like that.” She reaches up, putting her hands on either side of my face. “You know I love you, right? That I’m just scared and gun-shy and hormonal?”
I smile. “You think I’d be here if I didn’t know that?”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Always. As long as you talk to me. You can’t bottle things up, babe. Especially not when I’m on tour, when I can’t just get home at the drop of a hat.”
“I know. I have to be better.” She dips her head again. “The band must hate me.”
“Nah, they understand. The girls wanted to reach out but I asked them not to—I needed to look in your eyes, see for myself what you’re feeling before anyone else got involved.”
“I probably wouldn’t have answered,” she admits. “I was too embarrassed. I didn’t even say goodbye to anyone.”
“Everyone knows you were worried about your mom.”
“I was—I’m still—scared about a lot of things. But now that I’ve admitted it to you, it feels lighter. Like you’re carrying my burden for me. And I’m not sure that’s fair.”
“That’s what love is supposed to be, right? Where we carry part of the other person’s load…so we share both the good and the bad.”
“You’re such a good guy. The best guy I’ve ever known. I love you so much, Tate.”
I really like hearing that.
And it makes what we’re going through a worthwhile sacrifice.
I lower my mouth to hers, and our lips and tongues smash together greedily, bodies flush as we kiss. And kiss. And kiss. Until someone lays on the horn, sharp and loud, startling us apart.
“I’m going to kill her,” Summer whispers against my mouth.
I turn my head to see Dolly parked on the street, giving me another thumb’s up before she guns the engine and disappears out of sight.
“You realize that’s going to be your life now, right?” she asks.
I already know that, but it’s okay. As long as I have Summer, everything else will work itself out. “You’re going to be my life now.”
“Let’s go back to the house to drop off the Mustang. Then you can tell me everything I’ve missed on the way to the doctor.”
“Okay.” She leans up and presses her lips to mine again. Softly. Gently. But this kiss is even more vulnerable than the others—because she’s showing me her soul.
“The nursing home is basically kicking Mom out,” she says on the way to the doctor’s office. “There’s a memory care center in Albany, but I don’t know how I’ll get there in the winter. Especially driving the Mustang. I think I have to sell it.”
“Whoa, slow down. You can’t sell the Mustang.”
“I have to. I can’t haul a baby around in the back of a convertible with rear-wheel drive with ice and snow on the ground.”
“No, but we could put the Mustang in the garage in the winter and buy some kind of van or SUV with all-wheel drive.”
“I don’t have—” She cuts herself off. “This is what I’m talking about, Tate. I don’t know how we’re going to do this. You buying me a car to have here while you don’t have one in Minneapolis means?—”
“Look, if living in New York is a dealbreaker for you, then we’ll figure it out,” I interrupt. “All I care about is making you happy.”
“But that’s not fair. I have to make you happy too.”
“You do.” I stop at a red light and turn to look at her. “There does have to be some compromise.”
