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Pressing a kiss to his lips, I sat back and eyed him for a second. “I won’t bring up talking to someone again. I get why you don’t want to, even though I wish you would. But, maybe . . . maybe someday you’ll tell me.” His face hardened, and I hurried to continue. “Not about the mission—I know you can’t do that—but about what happened. You don’t have to today; you don’t have to ever. But, Coen, if I chase your demons away . . . if you can sleep when you’re with me . . . maybe just talking to me will help. I won’t judge you, I won’t try to fix you, I just want to be there for you.”
Pushing us until I was on my back and he was hovering over me, he shook his head in wonder. “Again, where did you come from?”
I placed my hands back on his neck and searched his face. “I’ve been right here, waiting for you to come crashing into our lives.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Reagan . . . I love you.”
My mouth opened, and it felt like my body was being pricked by millions of needles that were either ice cold or scorching hot. I couldn’t figure out which. My heart began racing, and I was trying to figure out if I’d imagined those words that were replaying themselves over and over again. “You—”
“Love you,” he finished for me.
My mouth stretched into a wide grin seconds before I brought his face to mine. “I love you too,” I breathed against his lips, and kissed him again.
His tongue brushed against mine and I whimpered into his mouth when he pulled my body off the bed. Wrapping his arms tightly around my waist, he deepened the kiss for a few more moments before pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the end of my nose.
“Maybe someday I’ll be able to tell you what happened. For now, this is all I need.”
“Okay.” I sighed contentedly. Turning my head to look at the clock, I frowned. I wasn’t ready for this time to end, even if only for a couple hours.
Coen’s face held the same displeasure I felt. “Do I get to see you today? Or do you have things you have to get done?”
Grabbing the ends of my hair, I nervously played with them and bit down on my cheek as I thought for a second. “What if you didn’t leave?”
Coen’s fingers went under my chin to lift my head until we were staring at each other. “What do you mean?”
“I mean what if you were here when I woke up Parker, and while he got ready—”
His dark eyes widened. “Can I take him to school?”
His question shocked me, and my head jerked back. I’d been worried he still wasn’t ready for Parker to know he stayed the night; I definitely hadn’t been prepared for that. “You—you want to take him to school?”
“Well, I mean, you would come with us. But, if it’s okay, I’d like to.”
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
“I’ll take you to get coffee after, and then we can do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Whatever I want? Why do I feel like you’re trying to bribe me into getting your way?”
“Because I want nothing more than to come back here and spend the day in this bed with you. Is it working?”
I smiled wryly at him and crawled off his lap. “Oh yeah. Keep it up, Steele. Now put some clothes on, I have to wake up Parker.”
Grabbing my pajama pants and tight V-neck I’d been wearing before Coen had torn them off last night, I slipped them back on and watched as he searched for his clothes. Watching him walk around my bedroom was enough of a distraction for what was about to happen, and I so needed the distraction.
Parker hadn’t mention
ed the whole dad thing to Coen since that first day nearly a month ago, and Coen and I hadn’t talked about it again. I was ready for this—ready for Coen to not have to rush out in the mornings he stayed over, and ready for Parker to start getting used to the idea. But being the first time, I was still scared. Parker could think this meant Coen was going to be his dad, he might not handle it well . . . so many things could happen.
“Ready to see how he handles this?”
I laughed at Coen’s worried expression, glad I wasn’t the only one freaking out about this. “Ready.”
Walking out of my room and down the hall, I opened Parker’s door and stepped in. Coen stopped just on the inside of the door frame and leaned up against it, and I was glad he’d been the one to make that decision. Because I couldn’t figure out if he should be out in the kitchen, in here with me, or hiding in my bedroom for the next couple hours.
Sitting down on the bed, I rubbed my hand over Parker’s back and crooned, “Wake up, buddy. Parker. Wake up.”
He rolled over so he was facing me and rubbed at his face.
