I turn to see Nix in the open doorway, grinning as he squints into the sun. His hair is sticking up on one side and flat on the other. His T-shirt is wrinkled and stained from the green pepper jelly that slipped out of his grilled cheese.
He looks messy.
And precious.
And…mine.
“Of course it is,” I say, starting toward him, a warm, giddy-but-grounded feeling swelling in my chest. “But first, I need to kiss you.”
“Morning breath,” he says, lifting a hand in warning as I climb the porch steps.
“Don’t care,” I say, pushing up on tiptoe as I wrap my arms around his neck.
I press my lips to his, confessing everything with a kiss. I tell him how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go. I tell him how much I admire him and enjoy him, and respect him. And how happy I would be to share part of my life with him, even if forever doesn’t end up being in the cards.
I tell him that I’m falling in love, and that I hope he is, too, but that no matter what happens, I’m going to be okay. Because I’m strong. Maybe not as strong as he is, but strong enough to give him what he’s been looking for.
Strong enough to be the woman a strong man needs.
By the time the kiss is over, he’s cradling me close, one arm gentle around my waist, one hand cupping my ribs as if he can feel all the emotion swirling behind them.
As I pull back, he gazes down at me, his eyes full of wonder.
“So, you’re my girl. For real,” he whispers.
It isn’t a question, but I nod anyway.
The smile that splits his face in response is pure sunshine and every bit as warm on my skin. “Good. When I woke up, and you were gone, I thought…”
I cock my head, waiting a beat before I finish his sentence for him. “You thought I’d decided to run away and make silly excuses again?”
He exhales a laugh. “Something like that.”
I shake my head. “Nope. No more running or silly excuses. But if things get serious, there are things we’ll need to talk about eventually.”
“Like the fact that you can’t have children?” he asks, proving once again that he isn’t afraid to face potential problems head-on. “I meant what I said when we talked about what we’d tell our friends that day. I don’t care about having biological children.”
I sigh, a part of me wishing we could put this talk off for a while and just enjoy the happy glow. But that’s not what people like us do.
“I’m not sure about adoption, either, though, honestly,” I confess. “I’m already forty. Even if I were ready to start the adoption process now, which I’m not, that all takes time. And I have serious concerns that I won’t have it in me to parent a newborn in my mid-forties.”
He nods, seeming to seriously consider that for a beat before he says, “Okay.”
My brows scoot up my forehead. “Okay, you’re fine with the possibility of not having children? Or okay, you?—”
“Okay with however things work out,” he cuts in. “I was never looking for a baby mama. I wasn’t even looking for a partner. Like I said last night, I wasn’t sure that was in the cards for me. So, finding you, finding this…” He pulls in a breath, his gaze softening again as he exhales. “I’m happy. And grateful. If it ended up being just you and me for the long haul, I’d feel like a very lucky man.”
“Me, too,” I confess, so happy I’m not sure if I’m going to laugh or cry, but very certain that we shouldn’t be this dressed when I do it. “Take me back to bed?”
“With pleasure,” he says, guiding my legs around his hips as he turns back toward the door.
“I still have my coffee,” I say, giggling as he makes a beeline through the kitchen.
“Good, you can give me a sip before we make out again,” he says. “That way I can have coffee breath instead of morning breath.”
“You don’t have morning breath,” I assure him as he starts up the stairs two at a time in a truly inspiring display of eagerness to get back in my pants. If I wasn’t already falling in love with him, I’d be falling hard right now.
“Liar,” he says.
