She comes closer, running her fingers along the smooth wood of one of the frames. “What kind of changes?”
This is it. The moment I’ve been building toward all day. My heart hammers against my ribs, but I force myself to meet her gaze.
“Shelving units,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Figured you’d need somewhere to put your stuff if…if you decided to move in. Permanently, I mean.”
Her hand stills on the wood, her eyes widening slightly. “Are you asking me to move in with you? Like, officially?”
I swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, I am. I know it’s fast, and I know with everything going on with Noah and Morrison, the timing might not be ideal, but…I want this, Atlee. I want you here with me. Every day.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her expression unreadable, and my stomach drops. Shit. It is too soon. I’ve pushed too hard, too fast.
But then her face breaks into the most radiant smile I’ve ever seen. “Yes!” she screams, launching herself at me.
I barely have time to open my arms before she’s there, legs wrapping around my waist, arms around my neck. I stagger back a step from the impact but hold her tight, her weight solid in my arms.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she says between kisses, her lips finding mine, my cheek, my jaw, anywhere she can reach. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”
Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost painful. I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, this woman who’s become my whole world in such a short time.
“I love you,” I whisper against her skin. “God, Atlee, I love you so much.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I love you too, Devlin. More than I ever thought possible.”
I carry her over to the couch, carefully navigating around the lumber and tools scattered across the floor. We sink down together, her still in my lap, neither of us willing to let go just yet.
“I missed you last night,” I tell her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I missed you too,” she admits, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “Lennon’s pull-out couch has nothing on sleeping next to you.”
I laugh softly. “Glad to hear it.”
She glances over at the shelving units, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “So you built those for me? Today?”
“Started them,” I correct her. “Still need to finish sanding and staining them, then mount them on the wall.”
“I can’t believe you did all this,” she says, wonder in her voice. “Built these with your own hands, just for me.”
I shrug, a little embarrassed by her obvious admiration. “It’s not a big deal. Just wanted you to have space for your things.”
“It is a big deal,” she insists. “No one’s ever…no one’s ever made room for me like this before.”
The vulnerability in her voice hits me right in the chest. I know enough about her childhood to understand what she’s really saying. No one’s ever wanted her enough to build something just for her, to carve out space in their life specifically with her in mind.
“Well, get used to it,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone light despite the emotion swelling in my throat. “Because I plan on making room for you in every part of my life, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Her eyes soften. “That might be a very long time, Devlin Nelson.”
“I’m counting on it,” I say, pulling her closer for a kiss.
She responds eagerly, her body melting against mine, her hands sliding into my hair. I lose myself in her—the softness of her lips, the sweet scent of her skin, the little sounds she makes in the back of her throat when I deepen the kiss.
When we finally break apart, both breathing harder, she rests her forehead against mine. “When can I start moving my things over?”
“Whenever you want,” I tell her. “Tomorrow, next week…hell, we could go get some of your stuff right now if you’re that eager.”
She laughs. “I kind of am. Is that pathetic?”
“Not at all,” I assure her, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. “It’s exactly how I feel too.”
