Page 92 of Living at 40

“Welcome home,” I state. Autumn stays where she is, and I slip my hands into my back pockets. I muddled things up a bit last night when I went to her place. It would have been too easy if she had accepted my botched proposal, and I’m a little glad she didn’t. I regrouped today once the realtor gave me the keys to this place and then recruited Ben to get her here. I didn’t want to mess things up again.

“I almost missed you,” I state, and her head pops up. “You said the right man hadn’t found you, and I almost missed you. I was searching out there.” I wave a hand to mean the larger world. “When you were right before me all the time. You were here the entire time.”

Autumn lowers her head, and I take a few steps to be closer to her. I don’t want to feel like I’m shouting my words. She needs them up close. She needs to feel them from me.

“You thought destiny missed you. I felt the same way, but it hadn’t. It’s been before us all this time. I’m the one.”

I reach for her and rub my hands up and down her arms. “You’re the one.”

Liquid fills her eyes as she gazes up at me but quickly turns her head away. I reach under her hair and around her neck and tip up her chin with my other hand so she faces me.

“I’m no Prince Charming, but I promise you won’t need to search anymore. I’m here.”

A tear leaks from the corner of her eye, and she quickly swipes it away. I stroke my thumb over her cheek and lick my lips before continuing.

“I cannot live without you. A lifetime will not be long enough. And I know you’re capable of doing everything alone, but I don’t want you to do it alone. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be here with you. For you. And for a baby. For all the babies.”

Her mouth pops open, but I use my thumb at her lips to stop her from speaking.

“I need you and not in some creepy needy way, but just an aching need to have you with me. Take care of me but let me take care of you. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll hold you up. And while I might not always get it right, I’m damn well willing to try until I figure things out. You feed my ego because you’re so fucking gorgeous, and I’m a chump. Let me remind you every day how fucking gorgeous you are.”

More tears fall from her beautiful eyes, and I swipe at them.

“Marry me, Autumn. Let us be the couple who was made for each other.”

Autumn breaks into a sob, covering her face as she cries, and I’m thinking I’ve really fucked this up. Not a little mess up, but full-blown fuckery. Her head tips toward me, and I catch her in my arms, wrapping them around her back and stroking up and down her spine. I press my lips to her hair as she shudders against me.

“Would it really be that bad?” I question, thinking back to when she refused to sleep with me at first, and I took it personally. Maybe she hadn’t wanted me. Then I learned she’d always wanted me, and I’d been a fool not to see her. An extra stupid jerk as Lorna reminds me.

Autumn shakes her head against my sternum. “No,” she says, and my heart crashes to my feet. Her head continues to wag side to side. “No, it wouldn’t be that bad.”

I pause and press at her shoulders so she’ll look up at me. “What are you saying?”

“I have something to tell you first.”

I stare at her red-rimmed eyes and her swollen lids. She looks so broken and sad, and my chest hurts because I did this to her.

“You can tell me anything, sweetheart.”

“I’m pregnant.”

My heart stills, and then it hammers. Blood rushes to fill all my veins at once. “What?” The question is soft and strangled, surprised.

“I was going to tell you. I just wanted to let it sink in a little bit and—”

My mouth covers hers. I keep it tender and slow, sucking at her bottom lip before covering them both as I absorb what she said. When I pull away from her, I lean my forehead against hers.

“We’re doing this. Together.”

“Logan, I don’t want you to feel—”

My thumb covers her lips once more. “The only thing I feel is love for you and our future.” I drop a hand to her belly. It’s almost unbelievable, yet I’m thrilled.

“When do you think it happened?” My palm still covers her lower belly. There’s nothing to feel yet but one day, she’ll swell, and I’ll be here to watch it all happen. We’ll experience it all together.

“I’m thinking the Adirondack chair on the landing.”

“You’re not very far along,” I state, counting the weeks backward. That was Labor Day weekend. It’s now the middle of October. “Maybe six weeks.”