29. Billie
Billie
I woke up alone in my bed at Aunt Helen's house, something that had become unusual over the past week since Gage and I had finally crossed that line from careful dating to being together.
We hadn't officially moved in together. We'd agreed that was still too big a step, but I'd been staying over at his cottage most nights, and I'd grown used to the luxury of falling asleep in his arms.
Last night, though, I'd come home to my aunt's because he had to be up before dawn to help Booker with some new horses that had been traveling for longer than they should have to reach the ranch.
He'd wanted me to stay anyway, but I knew I'd never get back to sleep after he left at four in the morning, and I had patients scheduled early today.
He'd kissed me goodnight at his cottage door, promising to call me later, and I'd driven home through the quiet November darkness.
Now, fully awake in the golden sunlight streaming through my childhood bedroom windows, I felt his absence like a physical ache.
My phone buzzed with a text: Missing you. Coffee in an hour? - G
I smiled, that familiar flutter of happiness warming my chest. My place or yours?
Yours. I'm bringing supplies for pancakes.
You don't have to cook for me every morning.
I want to. Let me take care of you.
The simple sweetness of the message made my heart skip.
This was still new, this feeling of being cherished and cared for.
After years of careful independence, having someone who wanted to make me breakfast and bring me coffee and generally fuss over my wellbeing was both wonderful and slightly terrifying.
Okay. But I'm making the coffee.
Deal. See you soon, beautiful.
I padded to the kitchen to start the coffee, trying to process the strange mix of contentment and vulnerability that had become my new normal. Being with Gage, really being with him, not just dating but building something real, was everything I'd dreamed of and nothing like I'd expected.
The dreams part was obvious. The physical intimacy, the emotional connection, the way he looked at me like I was the answer to every question he'd ever asked, all of that was exactly what my seventeen-year-old heart had imagined love would feel like.
But what I hadn't expected was the everyday domestic bliss of it all.
The way he automatically took my coffee order when we went out.
How he'd started keeping a toothbrush for me in his bathroom without us ever discussing it.
The casual intimacy of watching him make breakfast in his kitchen, wearing nothing but jeans and bed-rumpled hair.
It was perfect and terrifying in equal measure.
Forty-five minutes later, he was standing at my stove flipping pancakes while I sat at my small kitchen table, watching him move around my space like he belonged there. Which, increasingly, he did.
"You're staring again," he said without turning around.
"Can you blame me?" I asked, not bothering to deny it. "You're very nice to look at."
He glanced over his shoulder, grinning. "Just nice?"
"Devastatingly handsome, then. Better?"
"Much." He plated the pancakes and brought them to the table, dropping a kiss on top of my head as he set my plate down. "Eat up. You need to keep your strength up."
"For what?"
"For keeping up with me," he said with a wicked smile that made heat pool low in my belly.
"Confident, aren't you?"
"About us? Yeah, I am." He settled across from me, his expression growing more serious. "Speaking of us... Dad wants me to come to Blue Point Bay with him in a couple of months."
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. "To meet them?"
"Caroline and Leigh." He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I'd noticed he still had. "It'll be the first time I meet my sister. I'm terrified, honestly."
"That's understandable. It's a big moment."
"Yeah, it is." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I was hoping... would you maybe want to come with me? I know it's a lot to ask, and it might be awkward, but I could use the support."
I squeezed his hand. "Of course I'll come. If you want me there."
"I do. More than you know." His smile was grateful and relieved. "I always want you with me. I keep thinking about what Christmas might look like too. With you at the cottage, making coffee in your pajamas while I figure out how to work that fancy espresso machine I've been thinking about buying."
The image he painted made my chest tight with longing. "That sounds nice."
"Just nice?"
"Perfect," I corrected. "It sounds perfect."
"It will be," he said with quiet certainty. "All of it. We will be."
The confidence in his voice, the complete faith he had in our future, should have scared me. Instead, it settled something deep in my chest that I hadn't even realized was still unsettled.
"I love you," I said suddenly.
"I love you too."
"No, I mean... I love you. Present tense, no conditions, no reservations. I love the man you are right now, in this moment, sitting in Aunt Helen's kitchen planning our future like it's the most natural thing in the world."
His eyes went soft and wonder-filled, like I'd just given him the most precious gift imaginable.
"I love the woman you are too," he said quietly. "Brave and strong and willing to trust me with your heart again despite every reason you have not to. I love your laugh and your stubbornness and the way you get that little crease between your eyebrows when you're thinking hard about something."
"I don't have a crease."
"You do." He leaned across the table and smoothed his thumb between my eyebrows. "Right there. It's adorable."
"You're biased."
"Completely." He kissed me softly, tasting like maple syrup and promises. "And I plan to stay that way for the rest of my life."
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made us break apart, and Aunt Helen appeared in the doorway wearing her robe and slippers, her gray hair twisted into curlers.
"Well, well," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took in the scene. "This is a sight for sore eyes."
Gage immediately stood up, already reaching for another plate. "Good morning, Mrs. Schulster. Can I make you some pancakes?"
"That would be lovely, dear." She settled into her usual chair, beaming at both of us. "I have to say, it's about time you two figured this out."
"Aunt Helen," I protested, but she waved me off.
"Oh, don't 'Aunt Helen' me. I've been watching this dance for months." She accepted the coffee Gage poured for her with a grateful smile. "Though I have to say, you might want to think about making some more permanent arrangements soon."
"What do you mean?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew where this was heading.
"Well, Mrs. Patterson mentioned that her apartment above the grocery store is coming available again.
And the Kowalskis are moving out of that little place on Maple Street.
" She sipped her coffee innocently. "Of course, there's always the option of just moving into that cottage of his.
Seems silly to waste money on rent when you're practically living there anyway. "
"Aunt Helen!" My cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
"What? I'm just saying, at your age, there's no point in beating around the bush about these things." She turned to Gage with a conspiratorial smile. "What do you think, dear? Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to share that beautiful house you're building?"
Gage's ears turned red, but he was grinning. "Yes, ma'am. It would be very nice."
"See?" Aunt Helen looked between us with satisfaction. "At least one of you has sense."
"Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me," I said, folding my arms in faux upset, because I couldn't deny that for all my talk of wanting to take things slow, what she was suggesting sounded like a very good idea.
Plus I'd been looking at apartments for some time now anyway.
It would be nice to not have to think about the fact that I lived with my elderly aunt every time I wanted to spend the night with my boyfriend.
"Never," she said softly, reaching out and patting my arm. "There will always be a place here for you, my dear. I'm just saying you should have other places as well." Then she laughed and ate her pancakes as Gage grinned at the pair of us across the table.
Later, after Gage had left for his appointments and I'd gotten ready for work, I found myself standing in front of my bathroom mirror, studying my reflection. Did I look different? I felt different. Softer somehow, more open. Like falling in love had sanded down some of my sharper edges.
My phone rang as I was gathering my things for work. Blake's name flashed on the screen.
"Morning," I said, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I searched for my keys.
"Morning, sunshine." Blake's voice was warm with affection. "How are you feeling today? You were practically glowing at dinner last night."
"I'm good," I said, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. "Really good."
"I can tell. It's wonderful seeing you this happy, Billie. You and Gage both, actually. Xander mentioned he's never seen his brother so relaxed."
I found my keys under a pile of mail on Aunt Helen's kitchen counter. "It feels different this time. More... solid, I guess."
"That's because you're both different people now. You know what you want, what you're willing to fight for." Blake paused. "So how are you handling the whole small-town fishbowl thing? I saw Mrs. Patterson practically taking notes when you two were holding hands at the festival."
I groaned. "Please tell me she's not spreading gossip."
"Oh, she absolutely is. But it's good gossip. Things like how sweet you two look together and how Gage opens doors for you and how you laugh at all his terrible jokes."
"They're not terrible jokes," I protested, though I was laughing.
"They're dad jokes, Billie. He's already practicing for the future."