Beck couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. “I’ll marry you tomorrow. My divorce from Gloria has been final for months. I’ve been waiting ever since to put a ring on your finger.”
“I’m ready. For a while, I thought I wanted to travel and explore first…but not more than I want family, love, and permanence. We can travel later, right?”
“Of course. Whenever and wherever you want. We’ll definitely have a hell of a honeymoon.”
She gave him a wobbly smile before her gaze skittered to the rippling bath water. “But what if Seth stays? What if he asks for more time? If he’s not ready for kids, is he even ready for marriage? Or commitment in general?”
These were the conversations they’d skirted for months, dancing around them like landmines. He cupped water in his hands and let it trickle down her shoulders. “Listen, Heavenly. We?—”
“I’m not done. All these questions keep swirling through my head. So many possibilities… What if you get me pregnant and then Seth comes back?”
“We’ll cross that bridge, but if he comes back for good—to commit—I’d welcome him.”
“But would he accept our child? And if he comes back, and he gets me pregnant, would you accept his?”
“I can’t speak for him. For me, any child you have by one of us belongs to all of us,” Beck assured her. “But you’re trying to ‘what if’ every possibility, and I don’t have the answers. No one does—except Seth. We just have to wait and see. Whatever he decides, we’ll handle it together. That much, I promise.”
With a teary nod, she rested her chin on her knees and blinked up at him. She looked so young and too fucking vulnerable.
“Where are you in your cycle?” He was pretty sure he knew since he’d tracked her for months.
“In the middle.” She blushed. “I felt ovulation pains yesterday.”
Beck’s pulse quickened. His cock stiffened. After tonight—if things went as he hoped—there was a real possibility she would be pregnant. That they’d start a family. That he’d be one step closer to everything he’d longed for.
“Yeehaw…” he drawled, his voice rough.
A little smile peeked through her tears. “Beck…”
He stroked her cheek, his fingers leaving damp trails on her skin. “In all seriousness, I’d rather have Seth with us, but I’m not putting off our happiness anymore. He can either join us…or walk away.”
“You’re right,” she said so softly, he almost didn’t hear. So sadly, it nearly broke him.
Beck ached to pull her from the bath, tumble her into bed, and let nature take its course. But she needed tenderness and reassurance that he could—and would—handle whatever came their way. He’d be her anchor, whether Seth was beside him or not.
“It’s okay. Just relax.” He took his time, pampering her, washing her body with gentle, almost paternal care. When the water began to cool, he helped her stand and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. Then he lifted her into his arms, nuzzling her softness against his chest as he carried her back to their bed.
There, he settled against the headboard and unwound her hair from the loose knot, calming when she sighed and cuddled against him, full of trust.
The minutes ticked by on the bedside clock, each one seemingly longer than the last. Forty-three minutes left. Then forty-two. Then forty-one.
“I love him,” Heavenly whispered into the silence, looking bereft and lost.
“I know.” Beck pressed his lips to her crown. “I care about him, too.” And he did. Seth understood him, had his back. The big former cop had been one hundred percent behind him when the religious zealots he’d once called family had come. Beck wasn’t sure any of them would have made it out alive if not for Seth and his tactical know-how. “But there comes a point when you have to protect yourself—and the people you love—even if it hurts.”
Outside, a car drove past, the sound of its engine rising and falling. Not pulling into their driveway. Not Seth’s SUV returning.
“What if he never comes back? Never even speaks to us again?”
A cold knot formed in Beck’s gut. He tightened his arms around her. “He wouldn’t do that. But if he chooses not to stay, we lick our wounds. Then we move forward. Together.”
The question she didn’t ask, the one buzzing through his head, hung between them, impossible to answer: Would she truly be okay without Seth?
The ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder with each passing minute. Thirty-eight. Thirty-seven. Thirty-six.
Beck clenched his jaw. His fingers twitched and tightened around Heavenly, betraying the calm he fought to project. If Seth didn’t walk through that door in—he checked the clock again—thirty-five minutes, her world could implode. His, too.
And it would make the agony of waiting feel like nothing.
