She raised her head and gave him anare you out of your mind?look. “Why?”
“Step three.”
“You’ve already got the girl.”
“Trust me, I think this is worth it.” She went to move, and he clamped his big hands down her on her butt. “Not yet, though. I like having you draped on me like this.”
She wriggled against him and fell quiet, listening to his heartbeat.
When she lifted her head again, he was looking at her. His gaze was relentless. Once upon a time, she’d read it as harsh and piercing. Now it washed over her as gentle and tender. Wonderful.
“You’re looking at me.”
“I like to do that.”
She shivered. “I know.” Reaching out, she traced the hard line of his jaw. “You always have.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t look away. “I couldn’t help it. And then I didn’t want to, because I thought looking at you might be all I’d ever get.”
Her chest hurt at the idea of not having this love, because of one or both of them being too closed off or stubborn. “I could never have resisted you. Since the beginning, this was what I wanted. You have always been irresistible to me.”
“Same.” He caught her hand and kissed her open palm. “Do you have any lingering doubts?”
She thought about it. “No. Questions, maybe, but not doubt.”
“Questions about what?”
“Kids.”
He spread his arms. “I’m an open book. Dig.”
“Everything you said makes sense. But are you sure you want to start all over?”
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped away from hers, then came back. “What I have realized is that I was blessed to grow up with a large family, to be able to raise a daughter and support my brothers as they moved into adulthood. That was a joy, truly, as much as I fixated on the negative aspects. But I never chose it. Next time…this time, I want to choose it.”
“Babies,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Babies, and maybe we could be foster parents down the road. There are kids who need adults in their lives to make a safe space. Queer kids, kids who have escaped abuse—”
She climbed up him higher, kissing his face all over. “Yes.”
“Maybe one thing at a time.” He dusted his fingers over her cheek, then brushed his hand back into her hair. “I want some time with just you, too.”
It took them another hour to get dressed. He’d offered to go and get the mysterious step three, whatever it was, but he had the bigger bed—and the bigger shower. “I like your place.” Then she corrected herself. “Iloveyour place. It reminds me of you, and it makes me happy to spend time there.”
“Maybe one day soon we can talk about making it your place, too.” He zipped up her parka. “What would you think about that?”
“One step at a time,” she said, her cheeks heating up. She thought it sounded lovely.
* * *
Step three,it turned out, was a present. A gift bag of smallish proportions and decent weight, that inside had two boxes, one significantly heavier than the other.
Each of them had a card that matched the one Owen had left on her door.
“I had this whole plan worked out,” he admitted. “You would read the note, and then reach out to me, and I would leave this on your doorstep next.”
A delightfully romantic idea, although Kerry thought the way it had gone was better. She wouldn’t have wanted to wait another day to hear all that Owen had shared.
