I tucked a long strand of hair away from her face. “I know, but hear me out. I don’t want to wait to marry you. You already said you don’t want a big fuss, so we can do it here, some friends and us. I mean, why wait? We can start the new year as a family. As for the house, George is right—I can’t stay in this room and have you running down the hall as if we’re doing something wrong. I can’t stay in your room.” I snorted. “I don’t think I could fit on your bed.”
Alex laughed, and I kept talking.
“I’ll go have lunch with George and Doug, and have a look at the place. If it’s a good investment, and you love it, I’ll buy it and sell it once our home is ready. But Jodi is right—if it works, you can run it as a business in the busy season, if that’s what you want. If not, we can live in it.”
She worried her lip. “You’re buying it because you think I love it.”
I shrugged. “That’s part of it. But I checked it out. It’s a good fit. Well-laid-out, in great condition, close enough it won’t disrupt the kids’ lives—they can go to the same school and daycare, keep their friends. You’ll be happy.” I sucked in a nervous breath. “And when I have to leave on my trips, I’ll know you’re somewhere you love and feel safe.”
She didn’t respond, so I continued.
“It’s got a fabulous loft at the back. They added it a couple of years ago. I can use it as my office until I decide what to do—open a place in town or work from home,” I added. “It ticks so many boxes.”
“The money . . .”
Ah. And now we reach the real crux of the matter.
“Alex,” I began gently, “look at me.”
Her expressive eyes lifted to mine, the worry in them evident. “My darling girl, I’m rich. Very rich. You will never have to work yourself into exhaustion again. You never have to work if you don’t want to. You will never want for anything. The kids will never want for anything again. I can afford to buy it—I can afford to give you anything you want. You don’t have to worry about that.” I brushed my knuckles down her cheek. “I’ll take care of you all now.”
“I don’t love you for your money.”
“That is what makes your love so sweet. I know you love me for me. And for the first time, I want to share my life and everything I have with someone. With you. That includes making all your dreams come true.” I frowned when I saw her biting her lip. “Is that what you think? That I’m worried about why you love me? Or are you worried about what other people will think when they hear you got married. Who you married?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted honestly.
“I don’t care what other people think or say. I know why you love me. Your friends and family know.” I chuckled. “Hell, even Mrs. C knows, and she hasn’t met you yet. We are meant for each other, Alex. Even if I didn’t have a dime, you’d love me.”
“Yes, I would.” She nodded fervently.
“Relax about the money, please.”
“How will I . . . contribute? I need to feel I’m bringing something to our relationship.”
I gaped at her. “How will you . . .” My voice trailed off, and I yanked her to me tightly. “Alex, I was lost before you. As Arlene pointed out, all I did was go through the motions. You woke me up and showed me what living can be. Today was the happiest Christmas I’ve ever had—and the first day in my entire life I didn’t feel truly alone. What you bring me is love. What you give me is you. What you contribute is y
our unconditional support of me and us becoming a family. That is worth more money or gifts than I could ever offer.” I held her face between my hands and met her gaze. “It’s me who needs to feel I’m offering enough, Alex. Not the other way around.”
“I love you,” she whispered, tears falling down her face.
“And I love you. Do you understand now? Your contribution is priceless. I need to know you understand that.”
“Yes,” she said, and I wiped away the tears.
“Good. So, New Year’s Eve—we have a date? You’ll marry me?”
“Definitely.”
“Can I take you away on a honeymoon?”
She hesitated. I could see her struggling over what she wanted, and what she felt she had to do.
“We’ll make sure the kids are looked after. We won’t go for long, and we’ll plan a family trip in the spring, okay?”
“Okay. Could we go somewhere warm? Do you . . .” She paused. “Do you think we could go somewhere warm with a beach? Like Florida?”
I frowned. “I think we could do better than Florida. Why don’t we save that for a trip with the kids—we can take them to Disney World. I’ll take you somewhere a little more exotic—and private. Maybe Fiji or the Bahamas.”