Chapter 19 Haven
Haven
Iwake up wrapped in two hundred pounds of Englishman, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. Every part of my body warms with a delicious ache. And despite Alex’s soft snoring, and the desperate need to pee, I’m so cozy I don’t want to move.
It’s only when I turn and remember that Everly isn’t in the same room as us that I ease out from under the massive bicep and equally massive thigh pinning me down, and creep out carefully.
Guilt flashes through me when I find her grizzling in her crib, because I’m ten minutes late to give her breakfast. But my brave girl powers through a diaper change before I feed her enough for my boobs to stop hurting, and when we get to the kitchen, I put her in the bouncer while getting her bottle ready for the rest of her breakfast.
While it’s warming, I open the outside door, letting in both a blast of fresh morning air and Dolly, who’s come for her second breakfast.
The moment she spots her, Everly squeals in delight, and again when Blackberry joins them.
“Baby, shhh. Daddy’s still sleeping.”
She kicks her feet out, giggling at the momentum jiggling her chair, and it’s enough to keep her occupied while I switch on the coffee machine, before feeding Dolly and Blackberry. I swear their breakfast barely touches the sides before they’re by Everly again.
The four of us sit at the table and enjoy our morning.
Blackberry’s figured out how to spin the colored blocks on the bouncer by hitting her paw on them. Everly hungrily drinks the bottle I’m holding, while I enjoy my coffee and Dolly lays on the floor.
It’s my favorite time of day with her, enjoying the solitude of early morning, watching her smile at her new best friends.
I wonder if she’ll miss them when we’re back in Aspen. Mr. Frosty was my dog growing up, but after he died, we never got any more pets, and it wasn’t long after that my mom got sick. But as I watch Everly open and close her fist with Blackberry peering on, I’m wondering if maybe I should.
“What do you think Daddy would like for breakfast? Pancakes? Eggs?”
Everly squeals.
“Yeah, you’re right. Eggs, it is.” I chuckle and get up to switch on the stove, pick up the spatula, and wave it through the air so her eyes follow the movement. “Too soon for pancakes. Daddy’s still traumatized over the fire engines.”
I’ve barely started breakfast when he quietly pads into the kitchen. It’s so quiet that I sense him before I hear him and turn in time to see him kiss Everly good morning—all abs and pajama pants—before he looks up at me with a heart-stopping smile.
“Good morning.”
I don’t know if it’s me who’s different, or him, but after what we did last night, there’s been a fundamental shift in my brain chemistry. It’s not just Everly and me living in Alex’s house with him. It’s the three of us living here together.
And when he snakes his arms around my waist, pulls me in and his lips find my neck, I sigh in contentment. Like an actual audible sigh.
“Good morning to you.” His lips travel up to the sensitive spot right below my ear. “I missed waking up with you.”
My head lolls. “Hmm. Me too.”
When my eyes flicker open, they land on the window, and the audience of one peering in. Any contentment I feel is killed with my loud shriek.
Alex spins around, ready for a fight, then a laugh barrels up his throat. “Fuck’s sake, Churchill.”
Snatching an apple from the fruit bowl, he cuts it into slices and opens the window. Churchill takes the pieces one by one, and after he’s sniffed around to check there’s nothing else to eat, he trots off.
It’s literally the cutest thing. More so because I know how Alex fakes being annoyed, like now with his “bloody goat” grumble while he gently hands the fruit over.
“You know if you keep feeding him, he’ll keep arriving for breakfast,” I say, pushing my tongue into my cheek.
“I know.” He rolls his eyes. “But there’s nothing on the trees right now. And Mrs. Winston’s is so fucking boring.”
“You’re very sweet, you know that.”
He turns to me and shrugs, a smile curving his lips. “I know.”
“And what does my very sweet man want for breakfast?”
His head quirks. “What did you call me?”
“Um . . . sweet?”
“Nope. The whole sentence. Repeat it.”
I frown, wondering what I’ve said wrong, probably some weird American versus English thing. “What does my very sweet man want for breakfast?”
“There it is.” He steps forward and his hands slip around my waist. “Your man.”
My eyes flare and my stomach drops as soon as I realize my mistake. The label I’ve given him, even though we’re sleeping together and we have a baby together, it’s big. A declaration I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Except through the turmoil swirling in my brain, I know that if he isn’t quite mine mine, he’s Everly’s and I would fight anyone that said otherwise.
Alex silences my thoughts with a kiss. “I am, you know.”
“You are what?”
“Yours.” He smacks his lips to mine. “And you’re mine.” Kiss. “And Everly is ours.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Okay.”
But Alex shakes his head, slowly. “Say it.”
He’s so self-assured. I remember this about him last year, how sexy it was. How disarming. Whereas I second-guess everything, Alex just knows. He knows what he wants and goes for it. And he wants me.
And that feeling in and of itself is powerful to the point of terrifying. Good terrifying.
“I’m yours. You’re mine. And Everly is ours.”
“Damn right.”
“Then,” I begin with a giggle. “Man of mine, would you mind telling me what you would like for breakfast?”
He peers over my shoulder at the bowl of eggs I’ve whisked. “Whatever that’s going to turn into.”
“Good choice, and while I make these how ’bout you rustle up some more coffee?”
“Coming right up,” he replies, throwing out a wink as he darts into the laundry room for a sweater. Just like every day.
“Why do you always put your sweaters on down here? Why not upstairs when you get out of bed?”
“Because.” His head pokes out of the neck hole, and he runs a hand through his deep brown curls. “How’re you going to check me out if I’m fully dressed every time you see me?”
The grin he shoots me is so smug, and I know right then, at that moment, I never stood a chance. That Alex had a plan from the beginning, and it was only a matter of time before I resisted. I’d call myself weak, but I don’t think a Category 5 hurricane would stand a chance against him.
Alex shoos away Blackberry, and we sit and eat, Everly on the table between us, beaming a gummy smile at Alex whenever he spins the colored blocks for her.
Out of the window, the sun begins its morning creep over the horizon, hitting through the bare branches of the trees.
The sunrise in Aspen this time of year would be a stunning blaze of white, which I wouldn’t get to enjoy because I’d be rushing off somewhere.
Heading down to my store. Helping out in the bakery.
There’s no snow here, but the clouds are parting and I can tell it’s going to be a beautiful day. And while I don’t have a store to go to, I’m tempted to go and check out the tree stand in Valentine Nook. For research purposes.
Alex takes our dishes to the sink and comes back with fresh coffee. Sitting down, he leans forward and scoops my legs up, laying my feet in his lap. I marvel at how domestic we’ve become, how normal, how easy.
“I have a couple of things I need to sort out at the office. I’ll only be a couple of hours. Is that okay?” he asks, his thumb rubbing along the sole of my foot.
“Of course, it is. And maybe while you’re gone, I’ll walk into the village and check out the Christmas decorations.” My sentence tails out with a wince—because I don’t know how far I can go with the decorating—which he catches.
“Haven, you can buy all the decorations you want. After yesterday, I feel like I can do anything.” He shakes out my foot he’s been rubbing.
“But, on the other hand, when Everly has her morning nap, if you feel like I might need moral support during this very trying time, we can discuss it in the shower.”
“You need moral support in the shower?”
“Yes. I think I do,” he replies, his face solemn.
“Sex as a bartering tool? That’s mighty devious.” I pin him with the sternest look I can muster, but it’s useless.
“Hey, I never said I played fair.”
“Oh buddy, I think we covered that with the downstairs sweaters.”
Alex places my feet on the floor, leans over until his lips are a hair’s breadth from mine. “Don’t pretend you’re disappointed. I know your pussy’s already soaking at the thought of my cock.”
My entire core clenches as his fingers slip into the waistband of his pajama bottoms I’m wearing and slide too easily between my legs.
The wink he gives me when he proves his point has my lungs seizing.
In the post-coital haze I’ve lived in since last night, I forgot the Christmas lights were switched on so it’s a delightful surprise to see them shimmering, even in the low afternoon sun. I’m tempted to stay out until it’s dark just so I can see them in their full glory.
Snowflakes of all sizes are strung across Valentine High Street as intricate as paper doilies. There’s a slower pace to the shoppers today as they stop and stare. The farther they walk, the more there is to see and point at.
With Everly strapped to my chest, I follow the crowds.
The stores are so cute, decked out with snow-covered windows, Nutcrackers and reindeer flanking the doors.
Each one hangs a smaller version of the Burlington gates wreath, secured with pretty velvet ribbons tied off with a bow.
There’s even one on the arch at the end.
The air is scented with cinnamon and gingerbread from the bakery. The whole street is magical, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
I feel the excitement of Christmas building in my chest, and I really hope my parents are somewhere seeing this, because they would love everything about it.