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“Define more than like.”
“It’s another ‘l’ word I swore I’d never say.”
“Loathe?”
“Close.”
“Lust?”
“I felt that way from day one.” He smiled. “Those are your only guesses?”
I shrugged, not daring to utter the other one.
“Love, Chloe,” he said, looking into my eyes. “Pretend you didn’t hear that so I can make it more dramatic weeks from now.”
“I love you, too…” My voice cracked, and he kissed me.
“Are you pushing the gala back, too?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “I’d rather get that and these godforsaken London trips out of the way, so I can stick to the office. I should’ve never agreed to go back. I’m not ready to return.”
“I’m sure your brother and sister will be happy to see you at their birthday party,” I said.
“If they’re not, the pictures will make it seem that way.”
“And weeks later, your grandmother will be happy you were at the jubilee.”
“She’s legally blind and borderline senile, so doubtful.” I smiled. “Don’t tell anyone I told you that.”
“I won’t.”
Smiling, he picked up two children’s books from the coffee table. “Which of these do you want me to read to the children tonight?”
“Whichever one you’ll read without your unwanted commentary during the chapters.”
“So, neither?”
“Could you at least wait until the end of the book to give your thoughts?”
“No.” He opened a Dr. Seuss book. “If an author gets to make up words just to make them rhyme, my children need to know how full of shit they are in advance.”
I laughed and lay back, and he caressed my stomach as he read to the three of us for the rest of the night.
