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“I promise to say it every day.”
“I promise to make you coffee,” he said quietly, loving how she got all that meant—that he supported her early mornings and late nights, her overnight shifts and every cancelled plan.
“I promise to wash your gym clothes without complaining.”
“I promise to iron your dress shirts.”
She smiled and whispered, “I promise to wear your dress shirts.”
“I promise to always think you’re beautiful in them.”
She’d stopped shaking. She paused before her next vow, and when she spoke again, her voice was strong and clear. “I’ll support you in everything you do.”
Damn, now it was his turn to be overtaken by emotion. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be by your side in good times and bad.”
Her eyes warmed at that one. He didn’t want there to be any bad times, but if there were, they’d handle them together.
“Delaney Calhoun, I promise you forever.”
“And I promise you forever, too, Kyle Nixon.” She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly.
Elvis hummed a bar of music, then chuckled. “That’s got me all shook up, I gotta say. What do you say we make it all official in the State of Nevada? I now pronounce you husband and wife. Go on, give the little lady another kiss.”
Laney rolled her eyes and laughed, but she stopped laughing as soon as he dipped her back and gave her a kiss that made Elvis blush. Kyle assumed Elvis was blushing, anyway. He couldn’t see anyone but his bride.
What Once Was Home
a bonus epilogue
What Once Was Home
mid January
Laney rolled her eyes and forced herself not to smile as she pulled clothes from her dresser and tossed them toward her suitcase, open on the bed.
Kyle cleared his throat. “Laney…”
“Kyle…” This time she couldn’t keep the grin at bay. She turned around and sighed, leaning back against the solid wood dresser. It was sweet that he worried. She smoothed her hands over her slight belly bump and looked him straight in the eye, no more kidding around. “I’ll drive safely.”
She was heading to their hometown, Wardham, five hours away, for a baby shower, and was going to fit in some work while she was in the area. There was a promising plastic surgery resident doing a rotation an hour away from Wardham, in a community hospital, that Laney’s colleagues wanted to recruit to their practice at the children’s hospital here in Chicago.
Kyle didn’t care that it made the most sense to leave now, while she was fresh. Even after two years, he didn’t get how turned upside down her internal clock could get. He gave her a puppy dog look that almost worked. “Go in the morning.”
“I slept all day. This is my morning.”
“And it’s dark and dangerous out there.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “Humour me.”
“It’ll be hard for me to go back to sleep for a while.” She’d come off a twenty-four hour shift at seven that morning. Hadn’t gotten home until after nine, and by the time she fed herself and showered, she hadn’t hit the hay until ten. And the baby kept her asleep until dinnertime. “It makes the most sense—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because Kyle had pushed himself off the bed in one fluid motion and was crowding her against the dresser. She ran her hands over the warm flannel of his untucked shirt and tipped her head back, letting him rain gentle kisses along her neck. The fuzz of his three-day-old beard scratched all her nerve endings to life in that give-him-whatever-he-wants kind of way.
“You know I’m not rational about you and our little bean, right?” He nipped at her ear, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her in place. “I should come with you.”
“But you’ve got two papers due and you have to teach on Monday. If you came with me, then I wouldn’t be able to go to Bluewater Cove to meet this resident. We’ve been over this.” She arched her back as he trailed one hand down her side, his palm grazing her hypersensitive breast on the way. It wouldn’t be long before he had her shirt off and her bra tugged low. Her boobs had never been this big in her entire life. They were both enjoying that, although it was fine line between pleasure and pain.
“I don’t care. I’ll call in sick,” he growled, sliding the elastic waist of her maternity pants lower on her hips. She rolled her eyes back in her head as he squeezed her hip. His hands were warm and strong. Each possessive touch undid her, until she was a million pieces of want and her resolve had fled their little bungalow. No, he couldn’t come with her, but she could give him the night drive.
“Fine, I’ll go in the morning,” she whispered. “But you need to tire me out and put me back to bed.”
