Page 103 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

Luke smiles down at us. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the pride he exudes when he looks at us.

“I’ll get started on breakfast.” He smacks a kiss on my cheek before he heads for the kitchen. “I was thinking,” he says as he pulls ingredients from the refrigerator. “Maybe we should start looking at houses soon? It’s been nice being close to Tanner and Kayla, but with the baby I think it would be nice for us to have more space.”

I shrug. “It’s not a bad idea. I have access to my trust fund now so I can contribute to a down payment.”

He freezes and stares me down. “You don’t have to do that.”

I shrug. “I’d like to. I’d rather feel like something is ours.”

“You don’t need to contribute for that to be true.”

“I know, but I want to. Trust me, there’s more money in there than I could ever need. Remember, I’m an heiress,” I joke. Even though, at this point I kind of doubt I’ll ever hear from my parents again or receive more than what my grandparents left me.

I can tell he doesn’t want to agree, but finally he dips his head. “All right.”

“I want something small,” I tell him, and I can tell he’s taken by surprise. “Cute. Like a little cottage. I want a front porch with columns and eaves that are perfect for Christmas lights.” His eyes warm as I talk. “And I want a porch goose.”

“A porch goose?”

“Yeah, it’s a little goose you set outside and put clothes on.”

He shakes his head, but he’s grinning. “You’re crazy.”

“You love me.”

It rolls off my tongue so easily that I don’t even realize what I’ve said until it’s out there.

Affection melts in his gaze. “Yeah, I do. I love you, Bertie. I have for a while.”

Those words hit me harder than I expected. Sure, I’ve known how I feel and I’ve suspected the same from him based on his actions but hearing him say it and affirm my thoughts has my blood humming in my ears.

“You love me,” I repeat.

He abandons the ingredients on the counter and crosses the distance between us until he’s sitting on the bed beside me. His soft fingers trail beneath my chin to lift my mouth to his where he plants a gentle kiss.

“I love you.”

I want to hear him say it again and again and a million times more. Something tells me I’ll never get tired of hearing it from him, but I know he also deserves to know how I feel.

“I love you, too.”

His smile is soft, shy and almost boyish. “Yeah?”

I nod. “I think I have for a while.”

“Why were you holding out on me?” he teases.

“I think I was scared.”

“And are you still scared?” he prods almost worriedly.

I shake my head. “No. I realized it’s you and my heart will never be safer than it will be with you.”

He presses his forehead against mine. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that. Trust me, baby. I’ll take the best care of it. I promise.”

“I love you,” I say again. It’s less frightening this time and the smile on his face makes me wish I hadn’t held back and I had told him weeks ago. There were so many moments where I felt it, but I was too scared to acknowledge it to myself.

He cups my cheek and brings my mouth to his. The kiss is soft. Sweet. Utterly perfect. Just like him.