Page 44 of Knot The Nanny We Planned

Deklan nods.

And in the living room, Willow looks up from her block tower and meets my eyes through the doorway. Her scent drifts toward me, honey and vanilla, warm and certain, and she smiles.

I don't smile back. Not yet. Instead, I hold her gaze and let her see everything, every ounce of want, of need, of the terrifying, consuming thing that's been growing in my chest since the moment she walked into my life.

Her pupils dilate, her lips part, and her scent spikes.

She knows.

The day passes in a haze of anticipation.

Willow takes Lily to the park again, Eastwood, the same one, because Lily likes the fountain, and this time, Knox goes with them. Not hovering. Not interfering. Just present. Walking beside Willow, pushing Lily on the swing, buying them both ice cream from a vendor. Normal things. Family things.

I watch from my office window. Sixty-eight floors up, they're tiny, two dots and a smaller dot moving through the park. But I can see enough. I can see Willow laugh. I can see Knox lean close and whisper something that makes her blush. I can see Lily toddle between them, one hand in each of theirs.

Family.

I turn away from the window and try to work. I get through exactly four emails before I give up and start planning the evening instead.

The guest suite is prepared for the sitter. My assistant has confirmed the omega arrives at 6, is experienced with toddlers, and is fully vetted. Lily will be safe. Cared for. Close by but out of earshot.

The master bedroom is... not ready. Not yet. Willow's nest is still there, built from our shirts and the bedding, and I don't want to disturb it. It's hers. Sacred. The place where she finally let herself believe she belongs.

But I add things. A bottle of water on the nightstand. Soft lighting, I dim the overheads and turn on the bedside lamps. Clean sheets on the guest side of the bed, in case she wants to expand the nest. And, after a moment's hesitation, a small vase of wildflowers. Like the ones Deklan put in her room.

I'm placing them on the nightstand when Deklan appears in the doorway.

"Wildflowers," he observes.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking that JD Blaine, CEO of Blaine Capital, the man who once made a Fortune 500 CEO cry in a board meeting, is putting wildflowers on a nightstand for a woman who makes him lose the ability to form sentences."

"Get out."

He doesn't leave. He leans against the doorframe and watches me adjust the vase. "She's going to say yes."

"I know."

"She already said yes."

"I know that too."

"So why do you look like you're about to face a firing squad?"

I straighten the vase. Step back. Look at the room.

"Because if I mess this up, " I stop. Swallow. "If I hurt her. If I push too hard. If I take when I should give. If I make her feel like a function instead of a person…"

"JD." Deklan's voice is sharp. "You carried her out of a bus stop at 3 AM. You knelt on a wet sidewalk and begged. You put wildflowers on a nightstand." He pauses. "You're not going to hurt her."

"You don't know that."

"I do." He pushes off the doorframe. "Because I know you. I've known you for twenty-five years. And in all that time, I've never seen you care about anything the way you care about her."