Chapter 21
Long after Katie had gone to bed, Shane sat in the dark, a glass of bourbon in hand, his heart and mind full of Courtney after the funeral.
Her family had given her a beautiful send-off that paid tribute to her life and her struggles in the most respectful way possible.
His amazing family had rallied around him the way they always had, making an awful week less so with their unwavering support and encouragement.
And Katie… She’d been incredible, rarely leaving his side in the days that’d followed the dreadful news. He couldn’t have gotten through the shock and despair without her there to light the way.
If only he could stop thinking about the odd vibe he’d gotten from her the other night when he’d asked her why they never talked about getting married.
They’d been engaged for more than a year, and until their conversation three nights ago, neither of them had ever mentioned setting a date to make it official.
He’d been waiting on her to bring it up without even realizing it.
Now he suspected she never would’ve brought it up if he hadn’t.
Had he gotten complacent? Should he have mentioned it before now?
The not knowing had been working on his already shredded nerves during the last few days.
Of course, he understood that after growing up with a violent, abusive father, legally binding herself to any man was a bigger deal to her than it would’ve been for anyone else.
But he’d shown her, every day of their lives together, that she would never have anything to fear from him.
He wanted only to keep her safe, happy and loved for the rest of her life.
Had he done a good enough job of telling her that?
Of making sure she knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her?
He’d downed the last of the bourbon and was thinking about going to bed when Katie came out of the bedroom, looking sleep-rumpled and adorable in a silk nightgown he’d bought her for Christmas at Tiffany’s shop.
As it always did, his heart gave a happy little jolt at the sight of her.
She loved to tell people that he’d saved her life, but the opposite was true.
She’d saved his life in every way that mattered.
She came to him and slid onto his lap, making herself at home in his arms.
He’d loved Courtney. God help him, he had loved her. But he’d never loved anyone or anything the way he loved Katie Lawry.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked.
“Haven’t tried yet.”
She kissed his face and smoothed the hair back from his brow. “You ought to try. You have to be exhausted after the last few days.”
“I am.”
“Let’s go to bed.”
When she would’ve gotten up, he stopped her by tightening his arms around her. “Hey, Katie?”
“Hmmm?”
“The other night when I asked you about whether we’re going to get married one of these days, I got the feeling that the question upset you. And I was just wondering if there’s anything I need to be worried about.”
“No,” she said emphatically. “You have nothing at all to be worried about where I’m concerned.”
“You don’t either. I hope you know that.”
“I do, Shane. Of course I do.”
“Then let’s set a date for our wedding.”
For a long moment, she was so still that he wondered if she was breathing.
“Katie?”
“You know I love you more than anything, right?”
His heart sank as he said, “I think so.”
“I do. I love you and our life together. It’s more than I ever dreamed of for myself.”
“Are you afraid to marry me, Katie? Do you think things will change between us after we exchange vows?”
“No,” she said, but less emphatically than before.
“That’s what happened to your mom, right? Your dad was wonderful until after the wedding?”
“Yes, but—”
“That’s not going to happen to you or us.
I swear to you, Katie. You’re perfectly safe with me.
If you marry me, my only goal will be to make sure you never, ever regret it.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.
You will never be unsafe with me.” With his hand on her cheek, he turned her to face him and kissed her gently.
“We got a tough reminder this week about how we never know what’s around the next corner.
Time is so precious, and it’s time for us to take the next step together. Marry me, Katie. Please, marry me.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it go before opening her eyes. “Okay.”
“You’re sure?”
Nodding, she said, “I’m sure.” She kissed him. “Thank you for understanding how difficult it is for me…”
“No need to thank me. I get it.”
“I love you, Shane.”
“I love you, too, and I can’t wait to marry you. What’re you doing Memorial Day weekend?”
“No plans that I know of.”
“How do you feel about a sunset wedding on the same beach where we found each other?”
“I think that’d be lovely.”
He kissed her and then hugged her tightly. “It’s a date.”
Adam went looking for Abby and found her in the attic, wearing only a thin cotton nightgown as she sorted through boxes. “Babe, what’re you doing up here? It’s freezing.” His breath came out as puffy clouds in the frigid air.
“I’m looking for the baby clothes I bought ages ago, before we found out it might never happen.”
“Sweetheart, we can do that tomorrow. We have all day, and it’s too cold to be up here without a coat.”
“I want to do it now. It’ll only take a few minutes. They’re in one of these boxes. I just have to figure out which one.”
Resigned to no one sleeping until she found what she was looking for, he went downstairs to get coats for both of them and joined in the search.
In the sixth box he opened, he found tiny little shirts, blankets, sleepers and socks so small, they would fit on his finger.
All at once, the enormity of what was happening hit him in a tidal wave of thoughts and emotions.
He was going to be a father.
Abby was going to be a mother.
They were going to be parents.
They had a son.
Dear God. We have a son!
“Abby,” he said softly. “Here it is.” He held up a onesie that said “I Love Mommy” on it.
“Yes! That’s it.” Her brown eyes glowed with the kind of excitement that reminded him of how she’d been before the sky caved in on them with the devastating polycystic ovary syndrome diagnosis stealing her joy, her zest, her optimism.
She’d been overjoyed since they received the text from the agency, followed soon after by a photo of the baby who would be their son.
Having his Abby back was the greatest gift he’d ever received, even better than the news about the baby.
“Can we please take this downstairs?” he asked, shivering.
“I’ll follow you.”
Adam lifted the heavy box and carried it down the stairs, setting it on the foot of their bed.
Abby closed the door to the attic and came into the bedroom, shivering from the cold. “Brrr.” She took off the coat he’d made her put on and tossed it on a chair.
He put his arms around her and drew her into a tight hug. “This is really happening.”
“I still can’t believe it,” she said, clinging to him. “The agency said it could take years.”
“We have a son, Abs.” He withdrew from her only enough to place his hands on her face before he kissed her.
“A son. We have a son. Maybe if we keep saying it, we’ll believe it by the time we get to meet him.”
“When did you get all this stuff?”
“I’ve been collecting it for years, since I first opened Abby’s Attic. Any time something came in that I’d want for myself, I added it to my collection.”
He’d had no idea she’d been making preparations for a baby for years. “What’re we going to name him?” They hadn’t had these sorts of discussions before now out of fear of further jinxing themselves.
Besides, what was the point of talking baby names when every doctor they consulted had said pregnancy was unlikely for her due to the PCOS.
They had continued to seek out treatments, and she’d undergone a number of grueling procedures, but so far, their efforts hadn’t yielded the desired results.
Each month, her period arrived with frustrating regularity, when one of the hallmarks of PCOS was erratic periods. The irony hadn’t been lost on them.
“What do you like for names?” she asked, sitting on the bed to go through the items in the box. “All of this will need to be washed in special laundry detergent.”
“Why does it have to be special?”
“Because the regular stuff is too harsh for babies’ sensitive skin.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, laughing. “I just do.”
“Are there books I should read? I don’t know anything. What if I break him or do something wrong or—”
“Adam,” she said, laughing as she pulled on his arm, urging him to sit next to her. “Calm down. We’ll figure it out the same way everyone else does.”
“Everyone else has nine months to prepare for this. We have two days.” He placed his hand on his chest. “I think I might be hyperventilating. Am I hyperventilating?”
She dissolved into helpless laughter, the kind that engaged every inch of her body in convulsions as she fell back onto the bed.
It had been, he realized, a very long time since he’d heard her laugh like that. Even if she was laughing at him, it was the best sound he’d ever heard. She finally got herself under control, for the most part, but remained stretched out on the bed, the I Love Mommy onesie clutched in her hand.
“What do you think of Callahan?” she asked, referring to her maiden name.
“Callahan McCarthy has a nice ring to it.” But then another thought occurred to him. “People will call him Cal, which is your ex-fiancé’s name, so that’s a no-go.”
“How come? Cal doesn’t mean anything to us.”
Scowling, he said, “You really want to name your son after your ex?”
“I wouldn’t be naming him after my ex. I’d be joining my family name to yours. I like it.”
“I don’t know if I could handle that name in our lives every day…”
“Awww, are you still jealous over a guy I was done with before we ever got together?”
“Yes.”
She lost it laughing again.
God, he loved her.