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Dean turns me around to face him and presses a firm, hot, kiss to my lips that’s meant to distract me—and it does the job.
“Don’t be sad.” He brushes the back of his hand along my cheek. “It’s going to be all good, I promise. But come on—we’ve got to go. We’re going to be late.”
Dean takes my hand and tugs me toward the door. Because while we still have a week before we leave with the band and we don’t have to clear out of the Miller Street house just yet—he’s found a house that he wants me to look at. A place he thinks will be a perfect home for us, where we’ll be able to stay forever.
Dean lifts Ava from the travel crib and talks to her in a way that makes my bones go gooey.
“Right, Ava-baby? Tell Mommy—don’t be sad.”
He hands her off to me, and I cuddle her close—smiling as I kiss her cheek and smell her soft skin and touch the baby-silk of her blond hair. She’s got her daddy’s eyes—cerulean with flecks of gold and beautiful.
We walk out to the car where Jay is already waiting. I buckle Ava into the car seat where she’ll be asleep in five minutes—a car ride is like chloroform to her. Jay climbs into the back beside her and I slide into the front passenger seat.
Behind the wheel, Dean gives me one of his dirty-boy, player smirks—and then pulls a satin scarf out of his pocket, shaking it out with the hands that I love.
I roll my eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. It’s a surprise. You love surprises—and this is going to be a good one, because you’re going to love this place. Humor me.”
I let him tie it over my eyes, and then his breath is brushing my ear as he whispers, “You look hot tied up in a scarf. We should use it again tonight.”
“Jesus, I’m right here,” Jason groans. “I can hear you.”
There’s a flinch in Dean’s voice. “Sorry, dude.”
The car starts and I feel us drive off. Dean holds my hand and my stomach swirls—because this is another new beginning. After about ten minutes, the feel of the car changes from smooth road to rocky gravel, and we come to a stop. Dean turns the car off.
“I’ll come around and get you,” Dean tells me. “Don’t take off the scarf.”
A few seconds later, he guides me out of the car . . . and then sweeps me off my feet, carrying me. I hold tight around his neck, laughing.
We move up a few steps, maybe two, and he sets me down.
“Ready, Lainey?”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“I’m ready.”
Then he unties the scarf and slips it off. I open my eyes and look around at butter-yellow siding, a big oak door, a wraparound porch and a calm, stunning lake, teaming with geese in the back. We’re back in front of the Miller Street house.
And I’m completely confused.
Dean kisses me, soft and sweet, like he thinks I know what’s happening.
“Welcome home, baby.”
I look up into his eyes. “I don’t . . . understand.”
His mouth hooks into that cocky smile that stole my heart from the start.
“I bought it.”
“You . . . bought it? The house—you bought this house?”
He nods. “I bought this house.”
Curls of burgeoning excitement swirl like smoke in my stomach.
Oh, my God!
“Can you afford it?”
Dean snorts. “Of course I can. I’ve been living with my grandmother for the last twenty frigging years—what do you think I’ve been doing with my money? Investing it. We’re all good.”
His eyes drift over my face and his voice goes low. “I want to live here with you, Lainey. I want to love you and fuck you and laugh with you . . . and build a life with you. You and me and Jay and Ava and any kids that may come along after—and I want to do it right here, in this house.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. And I bounce up and down. “Oh, my God!”
I call over to Jason who’s standing outside the car with Ava in his arms.
“Did you know about this?”
“Yep, totally knew,” he calls back, grinning. Then he makes a silly face at Ava. “That’s right, isn’t it? We totally knew.” He taps Ava’s palm with his own. “Baby high-five.”
Dean wraps his arm around my waist, tugging me close.
“What do you say?”
And I’m crying again—big, wet, the happiest moment of my life, kind of tears.
