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“Horses?”
“Not just any horse. They’re very special horses and—” My words trail off when Max starts thumbing through the book. Apparently, I’ve bored him. “Do you want to go sometime?”
His head snaps up, a chunk of hair falling in front of his eyes. I brush it away. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“Can we go soon?” Max asks, sitting up in his seat.
“Of course we can.” Why on earth would I say no?
“Awesome!” Max gets up and walks over to Harley. “Dad said we get to go Grant’s Farm. Can we go this weekend?”
Tilting her head, Harley runs a hand through Max’s hair. Her eyes are glassy, and I have to look away before I do something stupid like beg her for forgiveness. Not that I’m above begging, but I honestly don’t feel like I have anything to apologize for. Plus, Max doesn’t need to know that we’ve been fighting. So instead, I just sit here and watch their interaction. “We’ll see,” she says. “Your dad and I need to talk about it first.”
Max smiles and fist-bumps the air and then turns to me. “That means yes,” he whispers, “When mom says ‘we’ll see,’ it’s always a yes.”
“Hey.” Harley laughs, the tinkling sound sending a shiver down my spine. It’s been a awhile since I’ve heard her laugh, and that’s a sound I want to hear every single day—multiple times a day—for the rest of my life. Not hearing it isn’t an option. I’m not sure I’d survive without it. “You need to quit giving away my secrets,” she says, pointing playfully at Max. “Now let’s eat.”
“What’s for dinner?” Max and I both ask at the same time, earning us an interesting look from Harley.
“Spaghetti.” Harley hands each of us a plate, takes a pot off of the stove and puts it in front of us. “Dig in,” she says, her eyes lingering on mine for a few beats before she sits down next to me.
Dinner flies by and Max talks us into watching a movie with him afterward. Harley walks in the living room just as the opening credits begin, and rather than taking her normal seat next to me on the couch, she sits in the recliner. I want to tell her to get her ass over here where she belongs, but I somehow manage to hold myself back. I want her to come to me because she wants to. Hell, more than that, I want her to have a little faith in me.
I stare at Harley for several seconds, hoping to catch her attention, because I desperately want to see her eyes. She has the most expressive eyes, and I know they’ll tell me everything I need to know about what’s going on in her head right now. But she doesn’t look over and I eventually turn my attention to the TV, making a mental note that as soon as we get Max into bed, we’re having a talk. Come hell or high water, we are going to lay everything out on the line. Unfortunately for me, by the time the movie ends, she’s fast asleep.
Max’s head is resting on my shoulder, a soft snore coming from his mouth. Scooping him up, I carry him to his room, tuck him in bed and shut the door. I walk back into the living room and stop dead in my tracks at the sight of Harley curled up in the chair with her gorgeous hair fanned out around her head and her long black lashes resting softly against her face.
She’s so fucking beautiful.
My eyes drift her to her belly. She hasn’t gained much weight, and to most people she probably doesn’t even look pregnant, but I can see it. Her normally baggy t-shirt stretches tighter than normal around her stomach, and when I think about the fact that she’s carrying my child—that a piece of me is growing inside of her—it makes my heart swell with more love than I ever thought possible.
She shifts in the chair and I watch her wiggle around as she tr
ies to get comfortable. She finally settles back, her right arm flung over her head, the left across her belly. I catch sight of her engagement ring and tilt my head to the side, examining the diamond that I spent so long picking out for her. As I stare at her ring, the memories of the day I proposed come crashing in. All at once I know exactly what I have to do.
Quietly, I walk to Harley. Unable to resist touching her, I brush my knuckles across her forehead and then along the side of her face. “I’m going to make this better,” I whisper, even though she’s asleep. “I promise you we’re going to get through this, and we’re going to be stronger because of it.” She stirs again and I kiss her lightly on the cheek before sneaking one arm under legs and another around her back. When I lift her from the chair, she falls against my chest and nuzzles her face in my neck. With her back in my arms, everything in the world somehow feels right again.
I make quick work of tucking her in bed, and then I walk back into the living room, grab my phone and call the one person who can make my plan a reality. She answers on the first ring. “Quinn. I need your help.”
The soft rays of the morning sun filter in through the curtains and I roll over in bed. Rubbing my eyes, I blink slowly several times, allowing them to adjust to the light. When they finally come into focus, I’m left with the most amazing view—one that literally takes my breath away.
Tyson’s round chocolate eyes are watching me, and when I offer him a small smile, he returns it. “Good morning,” I say, clearing my throat when the words come out scratchy from sleep. Tyson doesn’t say anything, his eyes merely continuing a leisurely path over my face that leave a trail of heat in their path. My body tingles, humming with pleasure under the weight of his gaze, and it almost becomes too much.
“What?” I whisper. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His lips tilt upward in the most beautiful smile. He runs a finger down the side of my cheek and I tilt my face into the palm of his hand. The touch of his skin against mine is a welcome feeling and I nearly sigh in contentment.
“Like what? Like I love you? Because I do.” Leaning forward, he drops a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’m madly in love with you, Harley. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I’m going to love you long after I leave this earth.”
If I were standing up, my knees would’ve buckled. Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a brief second, a feeble attempt to push back the tears. They seep past my lashes anyway. When I open my eyes, a few trickle down the side of my face. “I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse with emotion. “The way I reacted was immature, and I hate this rift that we’ve somehow created between us. I trust you … I promise I do. I just have this horrible fear of getting hurt—of losing you again—because the pain from that night still haunts—”
Tyson swallows my words when his mouth lands on mine. His tongue traces the seam of my lips and I open up, inviting him in. The kiss is soft and gentle, our mouths molding together the way they’ve always done. When his hand lands on my hip, his strong fingers curling inward, I relax into his body, allowing him to pull me close. Just as I think our conversation is going to turn purely physical, he pulls back, causing a tiny whimper to fall from my mouth.
“I didn’t know how else to shut you up,” he says with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Now I see where Max gets it from—oomph.” He grunts and then laughs when I elbow him in the gut.
We lie still for several seconds, simply watching each other. We’re clearly in uncharted waters, and I, for one, am not really sure where to go from here.
