Chapter 61
SIXTY-ONE
HARRIET
After a week of being holed up inside, Warren grows antsy.
Being confined to a desk for months will do that.
He finally contacted a realtor, and Marcus offered to help pack up his house. I’m unsure how involved Warren wants to be, especially when it comes to Carson’s belongings. I’ve suggested we keep the blanket and sonogram.
He’s deep cleaned every inch of the house, checked every light bulb, tightened every screw, and refuses to let me lift a finger even those he’s the one with cracked ribs.
Stubborn ass.
It’s his love language.
We sit at the dining table, digging into a hearty portion of scrambled eggs and bacon with a side of dry Cheerios. Warren scarfs his food down, and while he waits for me to finish, his watchful gaze studies my every movement until I itch under his scrutiny.
“Is there something on my face?” I pat my cheeks.
“Your face is perfect.” He taps the edge of the table. “I want to discuss something with you.”
His formal tone has me straightening in my seat. “Okay. I’m all ears.”
His eyes flit around the room as he gathers his thoughts. When they settle on me, there’s only a calmness to his posture. “I’m stepping down as a firefighter.”
I open my mouth then snap it shut, waiting for him to explain.
“I used the job as an escape, a way to distract myself. I know I’m good at what I do, but the relationship I have with it isn’t healthy.
I’ve spoken with Kevin and put a lot of thought into this decision.
I don’t want to leave the department, which is why I’m going to propose the board keep me on to not only teach new recruits in the classroom, but to also act as a mental health advocate.
I was fortunate to have Marcus during my times of need, but others aren’t, and there’s a lot of work to do. ”
I’m shocked. Not at him wanting to step down, but at the way he’s used the last week to reflect. “That’s amazing.”
“You think?” Doubt trickles into his voice.
“I know, and they’d be stupid not to take you up on your offer.” I reach across the table and capture his hand. “This is really brave of you and will make a huge difference to so many. Whatever you need to do, you have my support, so long as you’re certain.”
“I am.” He squeezes my fingers. “I need to speak to Marcus first. If they accept, it’ll give me more time to help out around here once the baby arrives. I’ll move closer after I sell the house so whenever you’re ready, you can return to work or enjoy as much time with the baby as possible.”
I digest everything, lips pursed in quiet concentration. Everything he’s said sounds amazing, except one detail.
“No deal.”
He frowns. “Which part?”
“The part about you moving closer. I don’t want that.”
The creases between his brows deepen as I stand and move to his side. I perch on his knee, careful of his still-healing ribs, and grasp his chin.
“I want you here. Not down the street or in the town over. Here.”
“You want me to move in?” he asks slowly.
“Correct.”
He answers with a firm press of his lips to mine. I soak up the kiss, humming into his mouth before he pulls away. “Be sure, because saying yes might be the easiest yes I ever say.”
“Move in today.” I peck him on the cheek. “Never leave and let me cook you dinner until we’re old and gray.”
He does a shitty job at hiding his grimace.
I snort. “Two truths and a lie?”
He laughs at the pivot in conversation. “Go on.”
“I love you.” Kiss. “You give the best foot rubs.” Kiss. “And…I’m the most incredible cook in the world.”
He flounders for a response. Busted. Not that it wasn’t obvious how much he despised my cooking. I despise it, and it’s beyond me how neither of us have ended up with food poisoning.
“You’re not so good at lying either.” My mind replays the way he called my bluff at the top of the Ferris wheel. An evening that feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.
He strokes a finger down my cheek. “And your blush is even prettier than the day we met.”
“So you’ll move in?”
A smile he first only gave me glimpses of lights up his face with ease. “If you’ll have me.”
I nod excitedly. “I’m happy to reach out to Michael and amend the tenancy agreement. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
His smile morphs to guilt. “I might’ve told another a little white lie.”
I narrow my eyes. It was all too perfect when the cottage became available. At first, I suspected Michael didn’t exist, considering he’s never once mentioned this “friend” to me, but I’ve paid my rent into an account under the name M. Walters since January, so my suspicion disappeared.
“Michael isn’t real, is he?”
“Ah, no, he is. I’ve just never met him.” He attempts to distract me with soft touches, but I swat him away. “Michael lives in the city, and the cottage wasn’t exactly on the market when your apartment became uninhabitable. He didn’t need much convincing to rent it to me.”
“Okay…so what’s the lie?”
Warren’s lips flatten into a firm line.
And it clicks. “The rent! Warren!”
He winces at the rise in my voice. “Hear me out.”
“Oh, I’m listening.”
His face reddens, and he tugs me closer as he explains. “I knew you wouldn’t accept charity, and I didn’t want you to spend your pregnancy stuck in someone’s guest room or settling for a property with no space for you, let alone the baby.”
“Continue…” All ire has vanished at this point.
“I’ve covered the rent, and every cent you’ve paid has gone into a trust fund.” He peers at me through lowered lashes. “For Button.”
“Warren,” I groan. My forehead thumps softly into his shoulder. “You make it very difficult to stay mad at you when you act all chivalrous and sweet.”
His body vibrates with his chuckle. “Apologies. I promise, from this moment forward, no more secrets.”
He seals it with another kiss, one that makes my skin tingle until my phone vibrating on the table interrupts us. Warren reaches over to grab it and passes it to me.
“Oh, it’s an email from my lawyer.” I scan the screen then read it again. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Warren steadies my hand as he reads the email from Steven over my shoulder. “This is good, right?”
The copyright lawsuit has been the last thing on my mind.
Warren and giving birth were my priority; plus, we hadn’t expected a response from the record label for a while.
Steven warned me there would be a lot of back and forth, so his email advising me they’ve requested a pre-litigation settlement meeting in June leaves me shell-shocked.
“Guess this is really happening.”