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He tucked his chin on my shoulder. “Oh? Is it under this robe?”
“Kinda.”
He toyed with the sash. “I like the idea of that.”
I turned in his arms. “You’re easy to please.”
“You naked is pretty much my favorite amusement park.”
I laughed as I cupped his cheek. “I love you, Cal.”
He straightened up a little and caught my wrist. He swallowed thickly. “You don’t say it a lot, but I know you do.”
“Saying it isn’t easy for me, but this past year has shown me what it’s like to love. I’m so grateful for you and our little girl. And that you’ve given me so much time and patience to figure it out.”
He dropped a light kiss on my lips. “You’re worth waiting for. Besides, I’ve got a ring on it.” He brushed his nose along mine. “I know you’re not going anywhere.”
“How about we put another ring on? You too, this time.”
A smile spread across his face. “Are you asking me to marry you? Didn’t we already do that?” He picked up my left hand and kissed my ring.
“Yeah, but I think we should do the real deal. The ceremony and the family, the dress and all the crazy that goes with it. Though I’m thinking more of a small thing. Maybe in our backyard in front of the lake.”
“Yeah?” He cleared his throat. “I could get behind that.”
“I’d say Valentine’s Day, but it might be a little chilly. So, how does May sound to you?”
“I say it sounds like a damn fine Christmas present. Do I get to show you mine now?”
“Could it be on the easel?”
“Maybe.” He flicked the tail of my robe. “Might want to close that though, or I’ll never get through the unwrapping, because I enjoy unwrapping you way more.”
I cinched my belt and followed him to the tree. I touched the tip of a mockingbird ornament I’d found in Kinleigh’s shop. She always had the best ornaments. I’d never really had a reason to buy them until now.
Cal grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the easel. “Okay, open it.”
“No ceremony or ritual this time?”
“No. Just nerves.”
I hooked my finger around his pinky. “I always love your paintings.”
“I know. Just I worked hard on them.”
“Them?” I moved in front of the easel and carefully untied the ribbons from the corner. I laid the long streamers and carefully constructed bow on the chair in the corner. Then I pulled the washi tape from the back of the package. It was so lovingly wrapped that I had a feeling I shouldn’t rip into it.
Even if my guy’s impatience practically vibrated through the room.
But I was rewarded for the careful attention. On the inside of the kraft paper were little pencil drawings of Faith and I through the last few months. Me breast feeding her, us going for a walk around the lake, Faith sleeping on her daddy’s desk, and even a few of her nestled in blankets on his dropcloths.
I laid the little treasures on our bed. Those would be going in my family book.
I went back to the painting and peeled back the muslin covering. My heart tripped out of my chest at the soft focus portrait. Callum’s beloved white dress shirt had another starring role. This time, our daughter was cradled in my arms. My hair was gathered on top of my head, with a few tendrils teasing my neck and cheeks.
Faith’s newborn face was pink and healthy and full of serenity as she gazed up at me.
“Is this what you see?”
