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Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

Page 27

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She’d never, ever even pretended to be in love with Wood. Yet he’d given his life over to her. Had been willing to make a real marriage for them.

Because a real marriage was what he wanted?

But not without the kind of love that went with it?

He turned in to the cemetery. So much for tuning out what was bothering him...

“The cemetery?” Cassie asked, sitting forward to peer out around them. “What do you have to show me here?”

He’d gone up the private drive leading to her father’s grave, and she was out of the truck before he’d even turned off the motor. Running toward the bench across from her father’s headstone.

“Oh my gosh, Wood! It’s...” Bending, she ran her fingers over the project he?

??d sanded and varnished the night before. And then she sat, eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at him. “Where did you get this? It’s beautiful! Exquisite, really.” She looked from him to the cherrywood bench. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He let her talk. Smiling in spite of his self-admonition not to make too much out of her gratitude. It was about her vigil with her father, her safe place, not about him.

“Come...” She patted the two-seater bench. “Sit with me.”

Reluctantly, he did as she asked, all the while reminding himself of the boundaries he had to maintain. For so many reasons. And truly enjoyed sitting there with her, even if just for a few seconds.

As he’d purchased wood, measured, cut, hammered and glued, he’d pictured her sitting on the finished product. He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine using the bench with her, though. An occasion where the two of them would visit her father together.

“I just love it, Wood.” She was looking at him, and the emotion in her gaze...it swooped deep inside him. Finding a home there. “I just...” She frowned. “You don’t think they’ll take it away, do you? The cemetery people? I’m technically only allowed to put things on his actual gravesite.”

“I got permission before I brought it over,” he told her. “It’s bolted down, and I wanted to make certain that was okay.” He’d checked other specifications, as well. As a contractor he knew all about permits, property rights and liabilities.

She teared up again but blinked away the moisture before it fell. “I just don’t even know how to thank you, Wood. It had to have cost a fortune. I have no idea where you even found something so perfect.”

He’d expected her to be pleased. But not to sound so beholden. “It wasn’t expensive,” he said quickly before she could read more into the gesture than he’d intended. “I’ve got less than twenty bucks in it,” he continued.

“You found something like this at a garage sale? I can’t believe it. It’s perfect. And looks brand-new. Who would part with a bench of this quality for twenty dollars?”

“I made it, Cassie.” He should’ve just told her from the beginning. Wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Those hours he’d spent in his workshop, thinking of her, had been private. Between him and the wood with which he’d worked. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just a hobby...”

“You made this?” Eyebrows raised, she looked from the bench back up to him. “And you think this is just a hobby? Good Lord, Wood, you could open a shop. Make a fortune. This is...”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to open a shop,” he told her. Elaina had had the same reaction the first time she’d seen his work. Peter had still been alive then, and making a big deal out of Wood’s bedroom set. He’d been proud of Wood’s talent. But he’d also understood that it was a stress relief for his brother. Something he enjoyed. To make it into a business would take away what he got most out of woodworking.

She studied him for a moment, and he turned away, in over his head. For a man used to being completely comfortable in his own skin, he found the current challenge to be somewhat overwhelming. And yet he had no desire to get himself out of it. To the contrary: the more he was with Cassie, the more he wanted to stay.

And not just because of the small bump becoming visible on her silhouette. Not just because of the baby. As his glance had fallen away from hers, it had landed on that bump. He shouldn’t be looking. Shouldn’t be seeing more than was there.

She needed him right then. He fulfilled a need in a very stressful emotional time. Didn’t mean he had enough going for him to hold her longer than the moment.

It wasn’t even right or appropriate for him to be thinking of her that way.

“I’ve known you such a short time, and yet...you’ve become a friend, Wood. In some ways, a close friend.”

He nodded. Glad for that.

“You always seem to know just what I need, or to have a way to make the worry sting less...”

He tuned in, was all. She did, too, not that he was going to tell her that.

“I feel like I’m doing something wrong here,” she continued slowly, looking at him, not at her father’s grave. “You’re doing so much for me, a virtual stranger. Willing to put yourself through medical procedures. Keeping track of the baby’s health. And I... I’m just emotionally overwhelmed, I guess. I’ve loved having you in my life this past week...so much...and I feel like I’m doing something wrong, caring about you like I do.”

She cared about him. Just because they’d shared a tough secret that week. Because he’d helped her get through a hard time in her life when no one else knew she was going through it.



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