The study door closed, muffling the call.
I sat there alone in the kitchen with the abandoned cooking utensils on the counter, and grinned. Whatever Charlotte was saying had clearly rattled him, and I had a pretty good guess about what or who the conversation was about.
Five minutes later, Derek emerged from his study. His cheeks were flushed pink, his hair slightly disheveled like he was running his hands through it. He looked anywhere but at me as he returned to the kitchen.
“What happened?” I asked, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
He didn’t answer and kept walking until he was standing directly in front of my stool and kneeled down.
I reached out automatically, cupping his face with both hands. His skin was warm beneath my palms, and he leaned into my touch like he was waiting for it. His eyes closed briefly, and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed.
“Derek?” I whispered.
He mumbled something so quietly I couldn’t make out the words with his eyes still closed and his face still pressed into my hands.
“What?” I asked. “I can’t hear you.”
He opened his eyes and the vulnerability in them made my chest tight. His hands came up to cover mine, holding them against his face.
“We should get married.”
Married?
The words hung in the air between us.
“Oh,” I said.
Just that. Because my brain had short-circuited, because my heart was doing something complicated in my chest, because the man I loved was kneeling in front of me in our kitchen asking me to marry him, and I couldn’t seem to form any words beyond that single syllable.
“Oh,” I said again, softer this time.
37
I’M GETTING JEALOUS
DEREK
Paige said yes because it ‘made sense.’
Those words had been circling my brain for weeks now, even though I was over the moon about her agreement.
Maybe I was moving too fast. We went from fake dating to fake engagement to actual dating the moment her divorce was finalized, and barely months later, we were preparing for marriage.
Am I rushing her? Pushing her into something she isn’t ready for?
But she was carrying my baby. Our baby. And I wanted—no, I needed—to make it official.
I stared at my laptop screen with Lily sitting perched on my lap, her tiny hands grabbing at my keyboard, babbling nonsense that I found infinitely more interesting than my work.
Working from home was supposed to be productive. Instead, I spent the last hour browsing forums about being a new dad while Lily occasionally ‘helped’ by smashing the space bar.
“Do you think I should learn how to cook more dishes?” I asked her, scrolling through a thread about prenatal care. “Your mom needs proper nutrition.”
Lily stared at me with big blue eyes and babbled something that sounded almost like agreement. Or maybe she was just trying to eat my pen. Hard to tell with her.
“I think so too,” I nodded seriously. “Maybe some massage techniques as well, right? For when her back hurts.”
Lily’s attention had shifted. She grabbed my mouse, ready to throw it on the floor, but I carefully pried it from her tiny fingers before she could.
