For now. “We don’t have a timeframe for that yet. What if your work says you can’t work remotely and you have to go back? How will you handle that and still be home every weekend?”
“I promise you, within six months I will be living and working here permanently, one way or another.” The quiet yet firm conviction in his tone is one I never would have doubted before. “Even if they make me choose between working for them or resigning. I’ll resign and open a firm here, or go back to working with a firm out of Colley or Webley or somewhere. I’m not a guy right out of law school now. I have a professional history and track record and knowledge I didn’t have before. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my word to you.”
It’s tempting for me to backpedal, soften my approach, and tone it down. I don’t like being this way.
I don’t like feeling this way.
After all the concessions my brain has made to my heart so far today, this one will not be allowed to slide. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that deadline.”
His sad smile activates every instinct within me to comfort him. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, Tommy. I won’t let you down, I swear.”
I reach up and stroke his cheek. “You don’t get another chance after this one. No matter how well you cook.”
His smile brightens, making my heart leap despite my caution. “I’ve missed cooking for you.”
“I’ve managed to survive.” I pat my stomach, which isn’t as flat as I wish it was. “Unfortunately, I’ve been eating at Alacea’s way too much.”
“How’s Bob doing, anyway?”
“Might have to talk to him to convince him not to poison your French onion soup.” We both chuckle at that. it was something special he’d make for Desi, but it wasn’t on the menu. Then I poke him in his gorgeous abs. “Looks like you’ve been hitting the gym on the regular.”
“Not really. Especially not the past few weeks. I hate going.”
“You always did. No lawn to mow, I take it?”
Desi snorts. “Not at my condo.”
“Think you remember how to mow a lawn? You’ll have to do chores again.”
He leans in and kisses me. “I can’t wait to do chores for you.”
* * * *
We manage to peel ourselves off the couch before we get too far down the path of fooling around and distracting each other. Because we’re really good at that and always have been. We’ve been known to kill an entire weekend morning or afternoon in bed or on the couch without meaning to.
Chemistry never lacked between us, that’s for sure.
Back to the kitchen, he insists I sit while he cooks us lunch. My headache’s mostly gone now and my stomach feels a lot better. It’s nice to watch him cook again, even if he did put on his shirt. Lunch is a cheese frittata, one of my favorites.
Something I haven’t made for myself since the last time we were together, because he made it for me when I was with him.
It was too painful a reminder.
“How are you going to break this to your mom?” I ask. “Sounds like she was pretty eager for you to be with that other guy.”
“Honestly? I’m beyond worrying about that now.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “It’s my life.Ourlife. You and me.”
“She’s going to hate me now, isn’t she? Stealing her baby from her?”
He smirks. “Then she can move to Maudlin Falls to be near me. Not that Dad will let her do that.”
“No offense, but they’re not staying here with us when they visit. Not after the last time, or after all of this.”
“Oh, heck no, they won’t!” he says. “I’m still shocked she apologized that time without me dragging it out of her.”
I’m certain his mom didn’t mean to be insulting, and maybe it was her form of a joke, but she really upset me and made me mad. The first—and only—time they visited us here, she joked when they walked in how “charming” the house was, and did we have indoor plumbing, or an outhouse?
Thank goodness Mom wasn’t here, or she might have decked the woman.
