Page 119 of One Reckless Night

I frowned slightly, tilting my head as I studied her. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s just... everything’s about to change, isn’t it? Our lives, our routines... us.”

“We’re going to be fine. Better than fine. Yeah, things are going to change—of course they are—but we’ll figure it out together. I’m open to it.”

“I’m looking forward to getting back to the lab,” she said.

“I bet. I’ll have a better chair delivered for your office. Something more comfortable. You shouldn’t have to stop working until you physically have to. We’ll get you the Cadillac of chairs.”

“Thank you,” she said. “But you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” I said. “You’re important to me, Amelia. Both of you.”

“You’re important to me too, Jared.”

I felt content. It was a strange feeling. Usually, I always felt like I needed to be doing something. Reading or working out or just something. With her, I felt content to be in the moment. There was no other place I wanted to be.

“Just think, we might get to have our son with us this Christmas,” Amelia said.

“He’ll be the first boy grandchild in our family,” I said. “My parents are going to lose their minds. I’m planning on flying them down for Christmas. I want you to meet everyone.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yep, really. I want our son to know he’s got a big, loving family.”

She smiled, but I saw the sadness. “Something I’ve always dreamed of.”

“This is a first for me,” I said.

“First baby?” she asked.

“No, first woman I’m bringing home to my family. Rather, bringing them to us.”

“Not even Gemma?”

“Hell no,” I laughed.

Amelia smiled, her hand resting on her bump. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

At one point, Amelia stopped to pick up a seashell, waddling awkwardly as she bent down. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Need some help there?” I teased.

She shot me a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ve got it,” she said, straightening up with the shell in her hand. “You’re such a jerk sometimes, you know that?”

I grinned. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

I paused. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you love me?”

For a moment, she seemed to search for the right words, her fingers still clutching the seashell.

“Because you’re trying, Jared. You don’t always get it right—okay, let’s be honest, you hardly ever get it right—but you try. You show up. You listen, even when it’s hard for you. And you’re easy on the eyes.”