“You don’t owe her, or me, an answer.”
“Aidan…”
“I haven’t exactly made things clear,” he admits. His voice drops, low enough that only I can hear. “I’ve been thinking about what we said on the phone. About figuring out what this is.”
I glance over at Isla, still completely absorbed with the cat, then back to him. “And?” I whisper.
His eyes hold mine. “And I want to try. I want to give this a real chance.” He hesitates, then adds, “But I need you to know, I’m scared shitless.”
I blink, not expecting the honesty or the way it latches onto something deep inside me—because I’m scared, too. “Of what?”
“Of screwing it up. Of pulling you into something messy when I don’t have all the pieces figured out yet.” He looks at me like he’s bracing for me to pull away. “For Isla.”
My chest tightens with the best kind of ache. This is the part of him he doesn’t let most people see.
“You know what I think?” I say, my voice light but steady. “I think you’re overthinking this.”
He arches an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that response. “Am I?”
“Mmhmm.” I take a step closer, my fingers trailing down his arm until they find his hand. “I think you’re standing in my kitchen with cherry pie filling all over your clothes, worried about things we can figure out together.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “That simple, huh?”
“No,” I admit, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be as complicated as we’re making it.” I glance over at Isla, still entranced by Marmalade, then back to Aidan. “I like you. I absolutely adore Isla. The rest… We can work it out as we go.”
His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re not scared?”
“Terrified,” I whisper with a smile. “But I’d rather be terrifiedwithyou.”
Aidan doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at me, and I feel it everywhere. Then, quietly, “Okay. We’re doing this, then.”
I nod, heart thudding. “Yeah. We are.”
He exhales like he’s been holding it for years. Then he lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
“I’m gonna mess up,” he warns.
“Same,” I say. “Probably in spectacular fashion.”
“At least we’ve got good cleanup practice.”
A tiny giggle bubbles up from the living room, and we bothturn to find Isla lying on her back now, Marmalade perched squarely on her belly. She’s talking to her in a hushed voice.
I lean my head on Aidan’s shoulder. He lets it rest there, his cheek brushing the top of my hair.
“So…” I lift my head. “What’s the policy on kissing your girlfriend in her kitchen?”
“Strongly encouraged.”
He dips his head toward mine, just enough to keep it subtle. If we’re quick and quiet, we might just get away with it.
His lips brush mine, soft and tasting faintly of cherry, when?—
“Daddy!”
We spring apart like guilty teenagers caught in the back row of a movie theater.
Isla is sitting upright now, Marmalade still sprawled lazily across her lap. She points an accusatory finger, eyes wide with scandalized delight. “You were kissing!”
