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She takes her hand from her eyes. "I'd think I was a slut if I were her."
"But she doesn't think that about you at all." I debate saying the next words but decide I want to so I can see her reaction. "She wants me to bring you back and make you her daughter-in-law." I'm quite certain Mum would also settle for me making Laurelyn her daughter-in-law and then bringing her back.
I don't come right out and say that I want to marry her. I don't even say I'm the one who wants it, but I do. I really do and I can't mistake the shocked expression on Laurelyn's face. She clearly wasn't expecting me to say anything remotely close to talk of making her my wife.
I told myself I wouldn't mention marriage for fear of scaring her off, but I don't see fear in her eyes. It's something entirely different and it gives me hope—hope that she might have me as her husband.
She's doing that thing again where she's searching my face. I think she's looking for a clue as to what's on my mind so she'll know how to respond. "Umm…those sound like some pretty big plans Margaret has for me."
That is such a Laurelyn move. She answers me without answering me, and I recognize that as her signature defense mechanism. She's using it because she's afraid, so I owe it to her to take the first step. I love this woman and I can do it for her if she needs me to.
There was a time when she was able to bare her heart and soul to me, and I'll make sure she trusts me that way again.
"Laurelyn, I never expected to love you but I do…with every fiber of my being." She breaks into a huge grin when she recognizes my use of her words from the letter she left for me. "I've spent the last three months learning how me without you feels, and I've hated every minute. I never want to do it again." I reach for her hand and lace my fingers through hers. This isn't me proposing—because I want that to be something unforgettable—but I'm going to tell her how much I want to marry her one day soon so we can talk about our future and how we'll compromise to make things work. "I want…," I start but I'm interrupted by my mobile ringing—Margaret McLachlan's ringtone. Her timing couldn't be worse and she'd keel over if she knew what she'd just prevented me from doing.
"Who'd be calling you this time of night?" I wasn't planning to take my mum's call because I don't want this time interrupted, but I hear the suspicion in Laurelyn's voice and know I'm left without a choice. I have to take Mum's call so I can put Laurelyn's unease to rest. It has no place between us.
"It's my mum. She doesn't always consider the time change between Sydney and Nashville." But I know the real reason behind her call. She knew I was going after a big lead tonight to locate the woman I thought was Laurelyn. She's checking in to see if all is well.
I slide out of bed, completely naked, to retrieve my phone. Laurelyn props up on one elbow to watch me cross the room. "That's a mighty fine view I've been missing."
"I'm going to show you some other things you've been missing too," I laugh before I take Margaret McLachlan's call. "Hi, Mum."
She cuts straight to the chase. "I know it's late where you are, but I couldn't stand it. I have to know if you found her."
"Yes, Mum. She's with me now."
She squeals like a child. "Oh, that's wonderful news—exactly what I was hoping to hear. Are things going as you hoped they would?"
This is Margaret's code for asking, without actually asking, if we're making up for lost time. "They were."
"I interrupted whatever you were doing?"
"Indeed you did."
"Son, if you stopped to answer the phone, then you weren't doing whatever well enough and you need to get back to her and do it better. Don't answer the phone next time."
Damn. I just got zinged by my mum. "I'm gonna let that one slide, old girl. We'll call you later when we're finished doing whatever."
"Please do, because I want to know everything." She can forget that. "I love you, son, and I'm so proud of you. I won't ask to talk to her now, but please tell Laurelyn how happy I am and that I miss her terribly."
"I will and I love you too."
I end the call and silence my phone before I drop it on the couch. There'll be no more interruptions from that little noisemaker tonight.
I return to bed and slide in next to Laurelyn. She doesn't hesitate in scooting closer to put her head on my chest, wrapping her arm and leg around me. "I presume Margaret is pleased?"
"Yes. She's satisfied with me for the first time in months. She asked me to tell you how happy she is and that she misses you." I thought she'd lose her mind when we figured out that finding Laurelyn wasn't going to be as easy as originally thought.
"I miss her too and I'm glad she's so easy to please."
Easy is a subjective word. "I don't know that I'd call her easily pleased. I'm certain her preoccupation with Em being pregnant again is the only thing that saved me from getting my neck wrung."
Her face lights up in a way that I only see when she talks about babies. "Aww, Emma and Evan are having a third. When?"
"She's not due until mid-September but she always has preterm labor and delivers about six weeks early, so we're predicting sometime in August."
"She told me they were finished having babies," she laughs.
"They were but they had an oops." As soon as I say the word oops, I realize my mistake because Laurelyn was an unplanned pregnancy.
"Then this baby and I already have one thing in common."
I feel like such an arse. "I'm sorry. Oops was a bad choice of words. He was a surprise, one that they are both very happy about now."
She quickly gets that glow back. "It's a boy?"
"That's what they tell us."
"Two girls and a boy. That sounds like a perfect little family to me."
I remember her saying she wanted at least two. "You think three is a good number?"
"Yeah, I think three sounds wonderful."
Hmm. Three. I never even saw myself with one until a few months ago. Now, I have to get used to the idea of three. But I can and I will for Laurelyn. If she wants three, then that's how many she'll have.
I wake from the best night's sleep I've had in months, and it's because my beloved is by my side. I didn't wake in a panic and reach out for her in the night only to find her side of the bed empty. In fact, I don't recall waking at all until this moment.
I feel like a trellis the way Laurelyn's wrapped around me. It's a first because she hates being touched while she sleeps. She has always insisted on having her space, preferably while she is lying on her stomach with the covers riding low to expose her lower back.
