Page 48 of Easy On Me

With that small white gown draped over his tanned forearm, he rifled through a stack of tiny sleepers. He added one in yellow, another in green, then grinned at a white one with tiny yellow ducks scattered over it.

My mouth twisted. “Jase, I don’t think we need all that.”

“Not yet, but we will. You wouldn’t believe how often Kaydee needed to be changed at the beginning.” He dangled a white sleeper with a green tractor appliqued on the front from one long finger. His mouth quirked, eyes gleaming with good humor. “Look at that.”

I reached for the tiny garment, the cotton incredibly soft. Babies were this small?

A hint of foreboding trickled down my spine. What was I doing? What did I know about being a mom? A wife?

And here I was, jumping into both.

Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath while counting to four, held it a moment, then exhaled while I counted to seven, a trick I’d taken from the counselor I’d seen all through high school. Okay, I knew children needed love and stability. I could do that. I was stable with my friends, so I could be stable with my baby. And Jase was the steadiest man I’d ever known.

I’d learned not to be angry and reactive. I could learn all the practicalities of mothering. I had resources.

The wife part . . .?

Well, that might be a problem.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

My eyes flew open, and he grinned. He tapped the corner of his mouth. “You get this little twitch, right here, when your brain gets going. Damn cute. Makes me think of a rabbit chewing on something.”

A rabbit.

I was going to harm him.

My face must have said it – I rarely kept a poker face with him – and his grin widened, gaze soft with affection, before a low laugh rumbled from his throat.

Wrapping warm fingers around my wrist, he tugged me closer, pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips, then rested his forehead on mine. A hint of his spicy aftershave wafted over me while I stared into blue eyes so close the dark fringe of his lashes blurred. His body heat wrapped me in security.

“I love you.”

I froze. His body stiffened, eyes wide and startled, as surprised as I was by the words that had fallen with his quiet chuckle.

“What?” I took a step back, but he didn’t release me.

He stared at me, then blinked before a grin spread over his face. “I love you.”

Something like wonder, like being three or four and still believing in Christmas, spread through me. I swallowed. “You don’t. It’s the baby.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel. I do. It’s kinda new, but it’s there. And we’ll nurture it, and it’ll grow.”

Lips parted, I stared at him. How was I supposed to argue with that?

He circled his index finger over the soft sleeper I clutched and the ones I held. “I’m buying all this. A steady investment in what we’ll need, starting today.”

I watched him lope to the register, his words echoing.

He loved me.

A steady investment in what we’ll need.

A small voice deep inside whispered he was talking about more than baby purchases.

He was good at painting, the kind I didn’t like, rolling a soft, blurred ivory on the walls in the bedroom we’d picked out for the baby.

I sat cross-legged with my small easel, working on a watercolor to frame for the room. I could work in the living room or even in the sunroom where the light was amazing, but I wanted to be where he was. I was safe enough with him that I could relax and give into the urge. He’d proven himself to be steady, to be everything I hadn’t even realized I needed.