He turned and gave me a mischievous little smile, a little glint in his eye. I cocked my head and looked at him, curious. Without a word, he reached out and took the doorknob in his hand.
“You ready?” he asked.
I grinned. “I'm getting a little chilly,” I said. “So yeah, I'm ready – ready to go crawl back under the comforter.”
He turned the knob without a word and pushed the door inward. “I thought you might need a new studio and office.”
My stomach roiling and my heart fluttering, I stepped inside and felt my jaw drop. It was everything I'd lost in the fire – and more. A lot more. Cameras and microphones and computers. I walked around just gawking at everything, afraid to touch anything because I knew none of it was cheap.
“How did you—”
I bit back my words and held my tongue. I didn't want to insult him, or hurt his ego, and ask the question I was dying to know – how in the hell had he been able to afford all this stuff? Instead, I shook my head and looked him in the eye, feeling profoundly grateful and entirely distraught at the same time.
“Oliver, you shouldn't have,” I said. “I— I can't accept this. This is too much.”
“It wasn't just me,” Oliver said with an awkward smile. “It was them.”
“Who?”
I looked around sharply, on the verge of panic, thinking that someone else was in the room with us. But Oliver walked around the solid dark oak desk and pointed to the open laptop.
My fanpage was open and, even now, the comments were pouring in. Love and condolences and well-wishes from people I didn't even know – most of whom I'd never met and probably never would. What amazed me the most was that many of the well-wishers were coming in from places well outside of Chicago. Well out of Illinois entirely.
I never knew I had such a large, passionate, and dedicated base of fans in states around the country, and it made my heart swell with gratitude. I looked down at the screen, reading some of the comments, my eyes filling with tears as I read them out.
Madison, it's not much, but keep fighting the good fight. Never give up. Love Patsy and Mike from St. Louis, Missouri.
Here's a little something from your biggest fan. Smooches! Ariel from Southside Chi-town.
Sorry to hear about everything. Hope this helps. Signed, Todd from Oakland Park.
It just went on and on and on. Hundreds of them. Thousands of them. I couldn't even begin to read them all. I had no idea how I was even going to begin thanking everybody who'd had a hand in making this happen – getting me back on the air, doing what I do.
“Seems you have a lot of fans,” Oliver said. “They all wanted to help out, get you set back up in your new place.”
My new place. So, this was my place, huh? I didn't think my heart could swell any more, but hearing him speak those words proved me wrong. It swelled so much, it had to be the size of the Goodyear blimp.
I turned and kissed Oliver, pressing myself against him and nearly knocking the much larger man to the ground by sheer force.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” I said, tears flowing down my cheeks.
Ten years ago, I had a chance with him and blew it. I'd thrown it away because of my own selfishness and stupidity. Back then, I hadn't been ready for this level of commitment. This level of love and devotion.
Now I was.
There was no way in hell I'd ever mess things up with him again. I'd never take him for granted and would always make him feel as appreciated as he made me feel.
Oliver and I were good together. My sexy fireman. The man who'd saved my life. Though, I wanted to believe that in our own ways, we'd saved each other.
The End
BABY WANTED
CHAPTER ONE
MALCOLM
The early morning sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass window and into the parlor, casting colorful shadows across the dark hardwood floor. I groaned. My father always had a flair for the dramatic. I'd say that calling an early Saturday morning meeting qualified as dramatic. It was also exactly like him.