“I mean, where do we go from here? This—” he gestured between us, “—feels significant to me. I want to know if you feel the same way.”
I set down my fork, considering my answer. “It is significant. I wouldn’t have slept with you otherwise.”
“Good.” He looked relieved. “Because, like I said, I’m not interested in casual, Theresa. Not with you.”
“Me neither.” I reached across the table to take his hand. “But I’m also aware that we have... complications. Ten of them, to be exact.”
Patrick’s lips quirked into a smile. “Our children.”
“Our children,” I agreed. “Who are still in some stage of grieving, though I know it’s different for each one.”
“Which means we need to watch our step,” he said, his thumb circling the back of my hand. “But not secretive. There’s a difference.”
I nodded. “Exactly. I don’t want to sneak around. I just think we need to... ease them into the idea.”
“What are you thinking?”
I took a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. “Maybe we start with some casual group activities? Something where all ten kids can interact without too much pressure. The zoo worked well for your crew, right?”
“It did.” Patrick looked thoughtful. “What about a beach day?”
“I like that idea. Maybe even pack a picnic, bring buckets and shovels for sandcastles, let them run off some energy. And I know the perfect place, Half Moon Bay.”
“We could go this weekend if the weather holds.”
“That’d be great. No pressure, lots of distractions, and if anyone gets uncomfortable.”
“Exactly.” Patrick squeezed my hand. “And it gives us a chance to see how they interact with each other.”
I laughed suddenly, imagining the chaos. “God, ten kids between us. What are we thinking?”
“That we’re gluttons for punishment?” He grinned. “Or that we’re incredibly lucky to have found each other in the middle of all this mess?”
“Both,” I said, my throat tightening unexpectedly. “Definitely both.”
Patrick’s expression softened. “Come here.”
I stood and rounded the table, and he pulled me onto his lap. I went willingly, tucking my head under his chin as his arms wrapped around me.
“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured against my hair. “Day by day. No rushing, no pressure, just... moving forward together.”
“I’d like that.” I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of him—clean skin, faint traces of yesterday’s cologne, the subtle musk of our lovemaking.
“Me too.” His hand stroked up and down my back, soothing and possessive at the same time. “For what it’s worth, I think they’ll get along brilliantly. Your Rome and my Brody are about the same age, and they both seem to have the same curious streak.”
I smiled against his chest. “And your Alec and my Austin might understand each other. They’re both so serious for their age.”
“Exactly. And the twins will love Paris—she seems like she could keep up with their energy.”
“God help us all if those three form an alliance,” I laughed. “We’ll never have a moment’s peace.”
“Who needs peace when you can have joy?” Patrick’s voice was soft but certain. “That’s what I want for all of us, Theresa. Not just getting by, not just surviving, but actual happiness. Even if it’s messy sometimes.”
I pulled back to look at him, struck by the simple truth of his words. For months, I’d been focused on just keeping my head above water, and now, the idea of actively pursuing joy seemed almost revolutionary.
“I want that too,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Joy. Even the messy kind.”
Patrick’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Especially the messy kind.”
