Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“How was your trip?” Georgia asked, hugging me.
“Good.” I smiled. Allie had really shown up for me this past week. “Thanks again for picking me up a day early. And keeping it a secret from Frasier.”
“No problem. So, I’m dying to know. What’s this big surprise you have planned?” She waggled her brows.
I mimed zipping my lips. I’d already told Allie about the baby—albeit accidentally. I wasn’t going to tell anyone else until I’d had a chance to talk to Frasier first.
“Aw. No fun.” Georgia pouted. “But fine. I understand. How can I help?”
“Can you drop me at my house?”
I needed to pick up a few things—some I had, some that I’d ordered. And I needed to do that and make it to Frasier’s condo in LA traffic before he finished practice. I glanced at the darkening sky, trying not to stress about how long it was going to take to get there.
“Of course.”
Georgia and I chatted during the drive—about the season, about my visit to Boston, about everything and nothing. When she pulled up to my house, she shut off the engine and walked with me to the gate that led to the backyard.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I said, hugging her. “I would invite you in, but—”
“I know. I know.” She grinned, backing toward her car. “Surprises and all that. Let’s do something together soon,” she called as she waved goodbye.
I nodded then turned to the gate, releasing the latch.
The string lights were on, but that wasn’t unusual since I had them set on a timer.
I took the path that led down the side of the house, annoyed every time my bag got stuck between the large pavestones.
But when I rounded the corner, I dropped the handle to my bag, my jaw following suit.
Frasier was standing in the middle of my backyard, but it had been transformed. I didn’t know where to look first. At him—standing there with a warm smile and a question in his eyes. Or at the yard, which had become something else entirely.
As much as I wanted to go to him, touch him, I remained rooted to the spot. He looked so handsome, and he was wearing the outfit he’d had on the night of the beach bar bachelor/bachelorette party. The night of truth or dare. The night of our first kiss.
Beside him was a pergola with lanterns hanging down from the crossbeams. Three sides were draped in gauzy curtains that flowed gently in the breeze. And my eyes snagged on the bed nestled underneath. It all looked so inviting.
The sound of a wave crashing drew my attention to the large screen, where the projector displayed a video of the beach. “What is all this?” I smiled, completely blown away.
“Welcome,” Frasier said, closing the distance between us, “to Anguilla.”
So much for the surprise I’d planned for him.
I laughed, completely in awe of this man and everything he’d done. “I love it.” I wrapped my arms around him, and he held me tight. My entire body relaxed in his hold, knowing that I was safe and cherished.
“I’m glad.” He released me and held out his hand, a sheepish smile playing at his lips. I placed mine in his, allowing him to lead me over to the bistro table we often ate at.
Together, I reminded myself, despite my trepidation over the conversation I knew we needed to have.
“Does this mean we’re going to play truth or dare?” I teased, wanting to live in this magical world he’d created for a while longer.
His eyes heated. “If you want. But first, how about some dinner?”
I nodded, not even sure what to say. How was he so perfect?
Okay. Not perfect. Nobody was perfect. But Frasier was pretty damn close.
He pulled out my chair, waiting for me to be seated. And then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple. I adore you.
“Be right back.”
He grabbed my suitcase and carry-on bag and took them inside. A minute later, he returned with two drinks that looked suspiciously like the ones we’d been served at the beach bar—rum punch.
Oh shit.
“Here, angel.” He handed me a glass. “I know we’ve both been busy and stressed lately. As silly as it sounds, I kept thinking—I wish we could just go back to Anguilla. Back to when everything was fun and easy, and we got to spend all our time together.”
I held out my hand, and he placed his in mine. “I absolutely love it. Thank you.”
“So…” He lifted his glass. “To Anguilla.”
What the heck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t drink alcohol, but I didn’t want to just blurt out the news now.
I wanted to apologize and explain what I’d been feeling, resolve things with Frasier before I told him about the baby.
I didn’t want to have anything hanging between us when I delivered that news.
But if I didn’t drink after the toast, Frasier might think I didn’t share his sentiment.
“To Anguilla.” I clinked my glass against his, and then I held it to my mouth, pretending to take a sip.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, and when I shook my head, he added, “Good.”
He disappeared into the house once more, and this time when he returned, it was with two silver-domed plates that looked suspiciously like the ones room service would deliver at the Huxley Grand. He placed them on the table before me, and when he lifted the domes with a dramatic flourish, I gasped.
I glanced up at him, fighting back tears. There was no way I was going to make it through this evening without crying. He was so sweet and thoughtful. And he’d gone to all this effort…for me.
“How?” I asked, holding a hand to my mouth. How had he gotten one of the exact meals we’d had in Anguilla?
He lifted his shoulder, a small smirk playing at his lips. “I have my ways.”
I shook my head, stunned by it all. “Thank you. I have felt so loved this entire week, and tonight is…” I swallowed hard. “Really special.”
He took the seat across from me, smiling. “Good. Because I do love you, and you deserve to feel special.”
“So do you,” I said, wanting him to know that he was special to me, loved beyond compare.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Let’s eat before this gets cold.”
As we ate, I watched Frasier from beneath my lashes. Despite the setting, he didn’t seem as relaxed as usual, or maybe I was projecting my own nerves onto him.
I was anxious to tell him about the baby. I was pretty sure he’d be happy, but it was still big news, unexpected news. News that I’d known for weeks and hadn’t shared with him.
“How and where are Bacon and Biscuit?” I asked before taking a bite.
“They’re good. I left them with the dog sitter so we could have some uninterrupted alone time.”
I nodded, trying to reassure myself that I had nothing to worry about. Frasier loved me, and I loved him. We would figure the rest out—together.
“Did you have a good visit with Allie?” he asked, and it felt as if we were both dancing around the topics we really needed to discuss.
“I did.” I smiled, toying with my friendship bracelet, the one Frasier had sent me. “Though it’s good to be home. Or in Anguilla, as it were.” I gestured to our surroundings.
“I would’ve taken you to the real Anguilla if we’d had time.”
“I don’t know.” I glanced around, taking it all in again. I realized the pergola was meant to mimic the cabana. It was our own private paradise, and the fact that he’d gone to so much effort made it even more meaningful. “This might be even better.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. And I hated the uncertainty I saw there. I hated that I’d made him question my feelings for him or our future together.
“But maybe we could go back to Anguilla,” I said. “After the season’s over.” Would I even be able to fly at that point?
He nodded. “I’d like that.”
We were both in our heads. Both walking on eggshells. If Frasier and I wanted to go back to Anguilla, back to that time of ease and connection, I knew what needed to be done.
“Truth or dare?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light even as I eased into a heavier conversation.
He sighed. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood to play games. To be honest, Bryn, I’ve been wanting to—”
“Please?” I pleaded, interrupting him. “Just humor me.”
He grinned, the expression both wary and indulgent all at once. “Fine. Truth.”
“Do you still want to move in together?”
He tilted his head, evaluating me. And then he leaned back in his chair, dragging his hand through his hair. “Yes, but only if it makes sense for both of us. I’m sorry if I pushed for too much, too soon by suggesting that we move in together.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And I’m sorry if I made you question my love for you or my commitment to this relationship by asking if I could think about it.”
It was tempting to rush to tell him about the baby, but I wanted to heal the wounds I’d caused first. I wanted him to know, without any doubt in his mind, that I wanted him for him. Not because I was pregnant, not because of any reason other than that I loved him.
“Bryn.” He took my hand in his, and I clung to him, grateful for his touch. “You have nothing to apologize for. You can take all the time you need.”
“I appreciate your saying that.” I dabbed at the corner of my mouth, setting my napkin aside. “But I don’t want to wait. I know I said I needed to think about it, but I don’t. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. I want to live with you, Frasier. I want to share a life together. I love you.”
He pushed his chair back, and I settled on his lap. I draped my arms around his neck, and I could feel the tension leave him. I felt the same, so much more at peace now that I was in his embrace.
He brushed my hair away from my face, cradling me in his arms. “I love you, Bryn. And I know this isn’t easy—navigating a relationship in the public eye, especially after everything that happened with Derek. But you are my number one priority.”
I kissed him then, sweet and slow. It was a homecoming, a promise.
I knew that. He’d shown me that time and time again. But I needed to show Frasier that he was mine.