39. Sterling
My nerves were on edge, and I wasn’t the one walking into that office to quit. I leaned against the SUV, door open so that I could hear Georgie and peek in if she complained and needed to see me. I knew how she felt. I wanted Cecelia to walk back out and be done with this already.
I was too old to be excited like a little kid, but I was. I was eager for us to finally be together the way we were meant to be. Husband, wife, child, a family.
She pushed out from the double glass doors that hid me from view, and she swayed her hips like she was feeling good, on top of the world. I swept her into my arms. Her smile was infectious, and it was hard to kiss while I was smiling like a fool.
“I’ve been thinking,” I started.
“That’s good, your brain works. I think mine’s been in some numb holding pattern for so long, I don’t know if I can think.”
She was feeling good, sassing off and making jokes.
“Damn, I have missed you,” I confessed.
“I missed you so much, but now, I don’t have to worry about that stupid job.”
“Good, that’s one conflict of interest we no longer have to deal with,” I said.
“What do you mean, that’s one? There are more? I mean, my working there and seeing you, yeah, definitely, but…?”
“I did tell you my lawyer is suing to get their records and to release the information they have regarding Georgie’s biological father.” I looked over at her as I started the car up and began navigating out of the parking lot.
“You might have. We’ve said a lot of words in the past twelve hours, and I have to admit I’m pretty much stuck on two things.” She let out a nervous giggle.
“Only two?”
“You love me,” she said. Her smile lit up my entire world.
“I do. I do love you, Cecelia.”
“And—hey, where are you going? We have to go back and get my car!” She braced her hands against the door and the dash as if I needed to slam on the brakes.
I let out a heavy breath. It slipped my mind. I had her with me, where she belonged. I was headed home. “Is there anything you really need in it right now?”
“Yeah, it’s my car. I’m going to need it.”
I shook my head. “No, you won’t. You can use the car service. Or you can borrow my car.”
“Sterling!”
“For a few days. Is there anything you need in your car that you will need this week? Do you have everything with you that you need to take back to Dallas right now?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she answered, but she still sounded perplexed.
“I’ll get someone to drive your car back,” I said.
“Yes, me. I’ll drive my car back. It’s less of a bother, and you won’t have to pay someone a ridiculous amount of money to get back up here just to drive my car.”
“It is a bother. I want you with me and Georgie.” I stopped her before she could properly protest. “And it’s worth whatever it will cost to have you in that seat next to me for the next six to seven hours. Or however long this will take us.”
“I can’t afford?—”
“I can. You are going to have to get used to a different way of thinking about money. It’s a tool.”
“It’s a precious commodity when you don’t have a lot of it. And I grew up being mindful of my spending.”
“And I grew up using money as a tool to leverage situations to my benefit,” I admitted.
“See, very different. So don’t chastise me when I think of ways of saving money,” she said fiercely.
“Fair enough. I’ll keep that in mind if you keep in mind that money is a means of saving time. I want to spend as much time with you as I can, so if that means I pay someone to fly to Amarillo, spend the night at a nice hotel, and then spend the next day driving your car back to Dallas, to me, that’s worth every penny.”
“Really? You’d spend all of that just so we can stare at the same highway from the same car? You know we’d be looking at the same road if I were in my car following you back to Dallas, and it wouldn’t even cost you the price of gas.”
I reached across and picked up her hand. “But I wouldn’t be able to touch you, wouldn’t be able to glance over and see that little smile on your face that lets me know you’re happy. Your smile is priceless to me.”
She blushed and glanced down to where our fingers were intertwined.
“You’re blushing. What did I say?” I asked. I hadn’t said anything that could be taken as a double-entendre or blatant, sexualized flirting. She blushed at the most random of times.
I kept glancing over at her and then returning my attention to the road. I wanted to watch her, see how her eyes would lift up to me, how her lids would flicker and her lashes flutter. But I had to keep an eye on the road at the same time. She was distracting. But she would be equally as distracting if she were in her own car, because I would constantly want to make sure she was all right. And frankly, the phone service through rural Texas was not good enough for us to keep the phone lines open so we could talk the entire time.
“That was really romantic, that’s all,” she said in a small, almost shy voice.
“You like romantic words, do you?” I grinned.
She surprised me yet again. Smooth talking and sweet words could make her blush. She liked to talk dirty in bed. She wasn’t willing to let me get away with anything simply because I said so or I could pay my way through a situation. She kept me on my toes, offered tiny challenges so I had to pay attention. She was smart, funny, and so beautiful and soft. I couldn’t have found a more perfect woman if I had been looking for one.
She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay, you win, especially when you put it like that and sweet talk me. But I’m still right,” she teased.
“Darling, you will always be right, but you had better get used to the fact that I always get my way.” I took my hand back and continued to drive.
Her jaw dropped and she made an offended sound.
“You’re in the car with me. And we are leaving your car behind, and you think it’s romantic and sweet.” I chuckled.
She started laughing. “Yes, it is sweet. I can’t think of a time anyone would ever have been willing to give up that kind of money just to be in my company.”
“You clearly never worked as an escort,” I teased.
Cecelia dropped my hand and swatted at my arm. “You are incorrigible!”
“I speak the truth. You would have made a killing as an escort.”
“Shut up, Sterling. I would not. Look at me.”
“I’d love to, but I’m driving.”
“I’m not what men would look for in a date for hire.” She shook her head and crossed her arms.
From what I could see in my peripheral vision, she looked like she was pouting. “I didn’t say prostitute, I said escort. Big difference. You are witty, and men want someone they can take out in public who can hold up a conversation.”
“They want someone they can show off, a model. They don’t want someone built like me,” she complained.
“I want someone built like you. I want you. Men want someone who looks good and can turn heads. You do that. You have beautiful hair, and your smile lights up the world. And you dress up beautifully. I’m not talking about the kinds of clothes you wear to work, but that dress you wore the last time I took you out.” I reached over and skimmed a knuckle over the top swells of her breasts, grazing her softness through her shirt. “These were exceptional. Trust me, you have all the right elements. And I know when I take you out and show you off, other men will be envious of what I have.”
“You really think that?”
I nodded. “Definitely. I am a very lucky man.”
“I’m the lucky one,” she said.
She relaxed and shifted in her seat. She turned ever so slightly so she could look at me. “Do you really want to marry me?” she asked.
“Definitely.”
“And you didn’t just ask because I’m pregnant?”
I gripped the steering wheel a bit harder before pulling the car off to the side of the road. The car bumped over the detritus on the side of the road, and the front tire left the pavement before we came to a complete stop. I put the car in park and turned to look at her. I picked up her hands and held them to my chest, to my heart.
“I apparently hadn’t made myself clear earlier when I said that Georgie needed a mother. That was me saying I wanted to marry you. I should have proposed more properly, with a ring, and not on the side of the road.”
“I think your proposal was wonderful. I just didn’t want you to think?—”
I put a finger to her lips to stop the worrisome thought. “Shh, I love you. That’s all that matters.” I replaced my finger with my lips. “Let’s go home.”