"Of course," I breathe, tucking my fingers into my pockets. "You…gave me a safe place to land when I needed one most. I'll always love you—and the girls—for that."
Kace uses the crutches to move toward me. One large swing of metal and flesh and he's there in front of me with barely a breath of space between us.
He releases the handholds and takes my face in his large hands, cradling me.
"Nothing more?"
His thumbs rub over my cheeks, soft and rough at the same time. Every breath I take is filled with the scent of his cologne and him and the jasmine perfuming the air from the landscaping below. "Um…"
"Because," he says, his tone gruff and maybe a little hesitant, "I love you, too, sweetheart. As a friend..."
"Oh." I struggle to hide the pain his words inflict so easily.
"And a lot more than a friend," he adds.
My lungs seize, and I'm rocked by the declaration. By the intensity of his gaze when I'm finally able to meet his. I blink twice before I can form the words. "You do?"
"I do," he murmurs. "I think I fell in love with you that visit to the hospital when you fell asleep on the couch and snored."
I gasp. "I don't snore!"
A deep rumbling chuckle emerges from him as he lowers his head and takes my lips in a kiss that's sweet and heady and wanting. Reassuring. All the things a second kiss is supposed to be when it comes to finding the person who makes you feel safe.
"The cutest little snores," he murmurs, a teasing glint in his gaze.
I dig my fingers into his ribs and earn the flash of his wide, gorgeous grin before he wraps me up in his arms and cuddles me against his chest. I feel him kiss the top of my head, and it all seems surreal. This moment. This man. This feeling.
Am I dreaming? "You love me?"
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I am in a way," I confess, feeling vulnerable but forcing the words from my lips. "I mean, I'm…the baby…"
He squeezes me more tightly before pushing me back and nudging my face up so I have to look at him.
"I know you're a package deal. Same as me and the girls. But I like to think we're kind of like broken bits of pottery that get glued together. We fit, even though we're all different kinds and shapes. Blood doesn't make a family, sweetheart. Love does."
He's right. It's true. He could no more deny my child than I could deny Dani and Madi. We might all be a bit broken from the unfair things life has dealt us but together? We've been melded together, and we're stronger because of it. We've filled in the gaps and cracks and crevices and made something new and beautiful all on our own. "I like that analogy."
He kissed me again. "I like you," he says against my lips. "Lindsey, I called our first kiss a mistake because I was the one who was scared. You nearly took me to my knees that day. And when you got so sick…I used the girls as an excuse. Kept trying to tell myself I had to protect them, but I was protecting myself because I'd only known you a few weeks, and I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you. Of being without you. That scared the daylights out of me."
I smooth a hand over his chest, stopping over his heart. "You've been hurt, Kace. Dani's mom and Pamela. I can see why you have trust and control issues when it comes to women. You give the people you love everything you've got to give, but you don't need to burn yourself out to be everything to everyone. We love you just as you are."
"Yeah, well, I jumped on your words about ending our agreement. I've learned my lesson, too. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
I lean my head against his chest, reveling in the strength of his arms around me and the quiet peace of being in his embrace after so long. A matter of days felt like an eternity. "You did the right thing. Making me leave."
"Why's that?" he asks, frowning.
"Because it forced me to prioritize myself and the baby. And stand on my own. You were right that I haven't been taking care of myself or putting our future first. I needed that push. To rediscover my independence and a job and the apartment. To find my own place here."
"Does that mean you won't move back in with us?"
I tighten my arms around him and lift to the tips of my toes to draw him into a kiss, wanting to soften the blow of my next words. "That's exactly what I mean. I can't. Not yet. Not anytime soon. Kace, I love you and the girls, and I can't wait for…whatever the future holds for us. But I'd like to take things slow. Get my feet under me and know I can make a life for me and my baby on my own—even if I don't have to do it alone."
I search his gaze, looking for any sign of anger or upset. But all I see is acceptance. Understanding. The kind that doesn't flinch. Because that's Kace—steady when my world tilts and goes pear-shaped. My gentle giant with a protective streak a mile wide, who knows what it means to raise kids with your heart in your throat and still show up anyway.
"You know what they say." His mouth brushes mine, soft and sure. "Slow and steady wins the race."
