Devlin grinned. “I do enjoy needling you, Cass.”
“You’re a scoundrel, do you know that?”
“Yes, but at least I amyourscoundrel.” He pulled her closer and dropped an affectionate kiss on her temple. “And he’s actually only ten years her senior. I could see it working.”
Cassandra wrenched herself away from him so she could give his shoulder a punch. But she was laughing and she secretly loved her husband’s teasing, even though she doubted she’d ever admit it.
Chuckling, he pulled her back to him. “Perhaps we should stop our arguing.”
“We weren’t…” She caught herself, fell silent, and wound her arms round his neck. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It just seems to get in the way of things, doesn’t it?”
He nodded and then his lips were on hers, kissing her fondly while holding her close and infusing her with his strength and his warmth. When she broke the kiss moments later, she leaned against him and glanced up toward the sky. Penelope and Trevor had almost reached the top of the mast now.
“Thank you for bringing us with you, Dev.”
“You don’t regret coming along?”
“No. It’s been an incredible journey in more ways than one.”
He didn’t comment. He just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held on tight. Together they waited for Penelope to climb back down. And then they spent the next hour listening to her account of what she’d seen.
That evening, after helping Penelope prepare for bed and tucking her into the hammock she’d finally managed to convince Cassandra she needed, Cassandra returned to her own cabin with more hesitation than ever before. It was time – time to tell Devlin what she now knew beyond any shadow of a doubt. And for some silly reason, having to do so caused her stomach to flutter most uncomfortably.
Sitting behind his desk, he was busy making notes in his log. The tip of his quill made a sharp scratching sound each time he finished a word. Cassandra smiled and lowered herself to the edge of her bed. It was funny how many little details she knew about him now, how much she’d learned during the last four months, like how he pressed down harder on his quill when he wrote the last letter, or how he would tap his foot while trying to gather his thoughts. He was tapping it now while considering what to write next.
Cassandra waited. She didn’t want to interrupt him while he was working and usually chose to pass the time with a book. But today was different. There was a restlessness bubbling inside her that caused her to scrunch her nose at the thought of reading. Because that would require sitting still and right now she needed to move.
She stood, fluffed her pillow, smoothed out her blanket, and sat back down. With a sigh she watched Devlin scribble more words. She did a little dance with her feet, tapped a tune on her thighs with the palms of her hands. And sighed again.
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and directed a frown her way. “What is it?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re not usually this…” He looked up as if hoping to find the words he needed printed somewhere overhead. “Agitated.”
“I’m just waiting for you to finish writing.”
He tilted his head. “Any particular reason?”
“Well…”
“Cass?” He stood and came toward her. Concern marred his features as he sat beside her and took her hand in his. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Too late for that,” he said with a wry smile. “What is it?”
“Well, I’m two weeks overdue.” She noted the look of incomprehension on his face. Her heart tripled in size, filling with warmth as she held his gaze. “I’m fairly sure, or rather I’m actually quite positive, there’s a baby on the way.” His jaw dropped and she instinctively grinned because he looked so adorably befuddled, like she’d just swept a rug out from under his feet.
“A baby,” he muttered. “I’m going to be a father. I mean, I’m already a father but this…this…” His voice cracked as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
She understood him completely. The day she’d learned she was carrying Penelope had been the most precious day of her life, and while Devlin had stepped in and happily accepted the role of being her father, having a child of his own would be extra special.
His lips met hers with reverent tenderness before brushing over her cheeks, her forehead, and even the tip of her nose. She tasted the salt from his tears and felt his hands hug her as if she were dearer to him than anything else in the world. And when she was finally given a chance to gaze upon his handsome face, she knew this was what true joy really looked like.
“How long until…” He gave his eyes a rough swipe and then motioned toward her belly.
“Another eight months, give or take.”
