He says nothing. I have to believe he’s dealing with his own feelings about this. I just don’t know exactly what they are.
“Nate …”
“Then come home. And let’s make a baby.”
I swallow all the doubt, the what-ifs, the hard reality that I might not be able to get pregnant. For now, I let hope back into my life.
“Okay.”
*
I give notice at work.
Instead of fireworks on the beach for the Fourth, we start the packing process—where I throw away the silk nightie that I never wore because Brandon didn’t make it out of the hospital—and Nate arranges everything else.
He doesn’t want us driving that far, so he arranges a moving company to take our stuff, not that we have a lot. I sell Kyle’s Land Rover. And Mr. Hans doesn’t charge us extra for breaking our second-year lease six weeks into it.
However, he does get a little emotional when we say goodbye at the airport.
“You’re family now. Just let me know when you need a place to hang out at the beach. The upstairs is yours.”
I hug him and steal Nate’s line. “If you’re ever in Wisconsin …”
He chuckles.
Gabe hugs him too, and we set off on our new adventure. Never … not in a million years, did I imagine my life would go in this direction.
It takes us six hours and one connecting flight to get to Madison. A huge, glittery sign with our names on it greets us just outside of security. Morgan hands the sign to her dad and runs toward us. I think she’s going to tackle-hug Gabe, but she doesn’t. She hugs me, sending me back a few steps.
When she releases me, she shrugs at Gabe. “Sorry. I have to do it.” Before he can protest, she throws her arms around his neck. He tolerates it for three seconds before wriggling out of her hold.
It’s only been a month, but as Nate saunters toward me with his freshly shaven face and that smile … my heart sprints like it’s been a year. He drops the sign and lifts me off the floor in a big hug.
“Tell me we’re done leaving each other,” I whisper in his ear.
“So done.” He releases me to my feet, frames my face, and kisses me. It’s hungry, but not inappropriate.
On the way home, Morgan talks Gabe’s ear off in the backseat while Nate and I stick to flirty glances and gentle squeezes of our fingers interlaced on my lap.
“Okay. First you can see your room. Then you have to see the tree house, then …” Morgan jumps out of the vehicle as soon as it’s parked.
Gabe follows her just as quickly.
“What do you think changed his mind?” Nate asks before we get out.
I shrug. “I really don’t know. It was so weird. Did you ask Morgan?”
“Yes. She shrugged and said she had no idea.”
“Huh …” I open the door, and Nate gets our bags out of the back.
He sets the bags inside and holds open the door for me. “Welcome home.”
I grin, taking his proffered hand.
Home …
I haven’t truly felt at home since Kyle and Emily died and I left my apartment in Boise.
“Pantry. Fridge. We went to the store yesterday, so it’s fully stocked.” Morgan finishes her indoor tour. “Now … time for the tree house.” She grabs Gabe’s arm and pulls him toward the deck door.
Before the door closes, I hear Gabe say, “Wow! It’s bigger than what it looked on the video.”
It’s the tone of his voice, the exuberant grin on his face, that tells me he will be fine. This is where we’re meant to be.
“Do you regret not trying this last year?” Nate asks, hugging me from behind as we stand at the window and watch the kids climb into the tree house.
“No regrets.” I lean my head back against him. “Timing in life is everything. It wasn’t just him last summer. It was me too. I wasn’t ready to ask him for something this big. It didn’t feel right in my gut.” I turn in his arms. “I was worth the wait. Right?”
His hands slide down to my ass as he ducks to kiss a trail from my shoulder to my ear. “We’ll find out later after the kids are in bed.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Nathaniel
It only takes a few weeks for everyone to get settled, the kids registered for school, Gabe a new soccer team, and Morgan starting up her figure skating lessons again with dreams of the Olympics.
Gracelyn’s been looking for a job, but she doesn’t know what she wants to do. I want to devote all of our free time before school starts getting her pregnant. She doesn’t think sex twice a day and baking cookies is contributing enough to our new family.
I disagree.
The kids love her cookies. And I love … well … I think that’s pretty clear.