I’ve gone over how to tell him more times than I can count. Thought about saying it over the phone. Thought about blurting it out halfway through a conversation.
But it never felt right. A screen is too small for something like this.
So I’ve kept it to myself.
He thinks I came here to find a home for the two of us.
And I did.
But now it’s a home for three.
My hand drifts to my stomach before I even realize I’m doing it.
It always does now.
There’s someone else waiting for him too.
A smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it.
I don’t let myself think too far ahead. Not yet. Not after the way things ended last time.
Keeping this from him is the right thing to do.
The second he finds out, he’ll be on that yacht and halfway across the ocean before anyone can talk sense into him. He’ll come straight to me—to us—and risk everything we’ve spent the last four months trying to protect.
So I wait.
Let him get here first.
Let him step onto this beach and breathe.
Let the last six months fall away from him properly—not through a screen, not in pieces.
Then I’ll tell him.
Then I’ll show him.
Chapter 36
Dane Gallagher
The coordinates bringme to a long wooden dock over water so clear I can see straight through it. I cut the engine, let the yacht drift the last of it, and tie off. I stand there for a second with my hands on the railing, looking at the cottage.
Ourcottage.
Low. White. Set back behind a fringe of palms. A porch facing the water.
Perfect.
Charlotte is somewhere inside.
I step off the dock and walk up the beach. The door’s unlocked. I push it open and step into a room that smells like saltwater, something freshly cooked, and Charlotte—distinctly Charlotte.
“Charlotte?”
“Dane... you’re early,” she calls from the back of the house. “I’ll be right there.”
Of course I’m early.
