36. Bertie
BERTIE
When I wake up to Luke beside me in bed, the smile on my face is instantaneous.
There’s no more denying what I feel for this man.
I love him. I’m in love with him. Anything I felt for someone else in the past pales in comparison to what I feel for him and it’s not just because we have a baby together.
Fear held me hostage for so long when it came to him.
Fear that he was only choosing me because I was pregnant.
Fear that my attraction was hormone induced.
Fear that one day he might wake up and realize I wasn’t really what he wanted.
Logically, I knew our attraction started before I got pregnant, but I also know Luke and he’s not the type to walk away in this kind of situation even if he did decide I wasn’t for him.
But I feel confident now, that him and I were inevitable whether Rory was part of the equation or not.
“I feel you watching me,” he says, eyes still closed.
“I can’t help it. I like it when you’re here.”
He slowly blinks his eyes open. “Yeah?”
I nod and the pillow rustles beneath my cheek. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“No,” he says sternly, but it loses all roughness when he yawns. “I’m making breakfast.”
“Is this because you want to make breakfast for me or because you know I suck at cooking, so you’re scared of how it’ll turn out?”
His nose crinkles and I notice that some of the freckles he gained over the summer are fading. “A little of both.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that.”
Rory gives out a small cry.
“Someone wants our attention.” He slides from the bed and scoops up the baby, holding him like a football. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the sight of Luke holding our baby. “And he stinks. Jeez, bud.”
He changes his diaper and even goes ahead and puts him in a new onesie. Rory starts to flail and make even more noises.
“I know, I know. You want some milk. Just a second.”
I sit up in bed and adjust the pillows behind me so that I’m more comfortable. Luke hands me the baby and I yank up my shirt. Rory immediately starts pushing his face against my breast.
Luke smiles down at us. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the pride he exudes when he looks at us.
“I’ll get started on breakfast.” He smacks a kiss on my cheek before he heads for the kitchen.
“I was thinking,” he says as he pulls ingredients from the refrigerator.
“Maybe we should start looking at houses soon? It’s been nice being close to Tanner and Kayla, but with the baby I think it would be nice for us to have more space. ”
I shrug. “It’s not a bad idea. I have access to my trust fund now so I can contribute to a down payment.”
He freezes and stares me down. “You don’t have to do that.”
I shrug. “I’d like to. I’d rather feel like something is ours.”
“You don’t need to contribute for that to be true.”
“I know, but I want to. Trust me, there’s more money in there than I could ever need. Remember, I’m an heiress,” I joke. Even though, at this point I kind of doubt I’ll ever hear from my parents again or receive more than what my grandparents left me.
I can tell he doesn’t want to agree, but finally he dips his head. “All right.”
“I want something small,” I tell him, and I can tell he’s taken by surprise. “Cute. Like a little cottage. I want a front porch with columns and eaves that are perfect for Christmas lights.” His eyes warm as I talk. “And I want a porch goose.”
“A porch goose?”
“Yeah, it’s a little goose you set outside and put clothes on.”
He shakes his head, but he’s grinning. “You’re crazy.”
“You love me.”
It rolls off my tongue so easily that I don’t even realize what I’ve said until it’s out there.
Affection melts in his gaze. “Yeah, I do. I love you, Bertie. I have for a while.”
Those words hit me harder than I expected. Sure, I’ve known how I feel and I’ve suspected the same from him based on his actions but hearing him say it and affirm my thoughts has my blood humming in my ears.
“You love me,” I repeat.
He abandons the ingredients on the counter and crosses the distance between us until he’s sitting on the bed beside me. His soft fingers trail beneath my chin to lift my mouth to his where he plants a gentle kiss.
“I love you.”
I want to hear him say it again and again and a million times more. Something tells me I’ll never get tired of hearing it from him, but I know he also deserves to know how I feel.
“I love you, too.”
His smile is soft, shy and almost boyish. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I think I have for a while.”
“Why were you holding out on me?” he teases.
“I think I was scared.”
“And are you still scared?” he prods almost worriedly.
I shake my head. “No. I realized it’s you and my heart will never be safer than it will be with you.”
He presses his forehead against mine. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that. Trust me, baby. I’ll take the best care of it. I promise.”
“I love you,” I say again. It’s less frightening this time and the smile on his face makes me wish I hadn’t held back and I had told him weeks ago. There were so many moments where I felt it, but I was too scared to acknowledge it to myself.
He cups my cheek and brings my mouth to his. The kiss is soft. Sweet. Utterly perfect. Just like him.
Pulling away, he looks down at Rory in my arms, still eating away and completely unbothered.
“I think we have a pretty beautiful life.”
I smile up at him. “Yeah, we do.”
I don’t need extravagant things, or fancy cars, or handbags galore.
All I need is my boys.