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“Then show me.”
He held her gaze, shrugged after a moment, then took her hand and tugged her to follow him. “Fine. But don’t get all weird about it.” They headed up the stairs.
She’d never been up to the loft, though it looked like a cozy place to sit and read. She loved the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the huge windows that brightened the whole place. She stopped on the landing and looked out the windows. As far as the eye could see it was all grassy fields and woods in the distance. “Hunt, that view. It’s gorgeous.”
“I usually sit up here and drink my coffee when I have time to wake up slow in the morning.”
“I can see why.” And the comfy-looking chairs with ottomans he’d chosen seemed like a great place to relax and unwind. She easily pictured them there with a glass of wine in the evening, talking about their day.
He went ahead, passing an open door to a beautiful spare room that had dark wood furniture and a black metal bed with a white spread and pillows and black-and-white photos on the walls.
Hunt stood in front of the closed door and held the knob. “I told my family this room was for Eliza when I babysit her.”
She raised a brow. “But that wasn’t true?”
“No.” He opened the door and stood with his shoulder against the doorframe looking in at the sweet nursery with a beautiful dark wood crib, dresser, changing tableand bookcase, and a pale gray area rug on the hardwood floor to match the shade on the walls.
But it was what hung over the crib that held her attention.
“When did you do this room?”
“Before you were ever on my radar. When I got the furniture and decorated the room, it was one of those things where I thought, if it’s here, maybe it will be a reality one day.”
Cyn touched her finger to one of the butterflies on the mobile over the crib. Blue ones, green ones, orange, red, purple and yellow. “I love this.”
“I thought a baby, boy or girl, would love the colors. It never occurred to me the coincidence that I picked that mobile and fell for you.”
She turned to him. “If you build it, they’ll come.” That probably wasn’t the exact famous movie quote, but it struck her how true it was in this moment.
“And here you are, Cyn. Maybe seeing those butterflies, how close we’ve gotten in such a short time, knowing this room represents the future I want, scares you a little. Truthfully, it does me. But you asked. So now you know it’s here, and you, and this, are what I want for my future.”
She looked at the mobile again and around the room. “I really wasn’t expecting this.” She looked at Hunt, who studied her with an intensity that touched her because of the raw need she saw in his eyes. “It’s perfect.”
The smile he gave her lit up her heart. “I’m glad you like it.” He held his hand out to her. “Come with me. Let’s eat.”
She took his hand, glanced back one last time at the beautiful room he’d created for his child, then went into his arms and kissed him. “You’re a very sweet man, Hunt.”
He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Don’t tell anybody.” He tugged her toward the stairs.
She chuckled and followed him down to the kitchen, where he’d left a mug of coffee on the breakfast bar for her and a plate of eggs, bacon and fried potatoes.
“How long have you been up?”
“Long enough to make you breakfast and reveal my little secret.”
“On that note, I want to show you something.” She picked up her phone where he’d left it charging for her on the counter. “I don’t ever do this. Like never. But you and me... Well, it’s different. It’s real and I hope headed toward that.” She held up her hand and pointed behind her at the baby’s room upstairs. “So...” She turned her phone toward him and showed him the results of her blood work she’d asked the doctor to run while she was in the hospital the first time after drowning and Hunt saved her and she knew she didn’t want to let him go any time soon. Which had now turned into her wanting to keep him forever.
“What am I looking at?”
“My test results. No STDs. I’m clean. Not that I thought I wasn’t, but a guy like you, who likes facts and plays by the rules and all that, would want to see it in black and white. You always have a condom ready, which is great. I mean, you had a certain perception about me, so I thought—”
He kissed her midsentence. “Stop. The condoms were never about me thinking you had something.”
“Safety first. That’s you. I get it. And making sure you didn’t get me pregnant. And you never asked if I was using anything.”
“If you are, great, but it’s still my responsibility, too, because things happen when it comes to the pill.”
Right. Women didn’t always take them properly, making them less effective. Antibiotics, which she was taking, rendered them less effective, if not ineffective. “I love that you’re responsible and all that, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I can’t get pregnant.”
