Chapter 16
Sixteen
Macklin
I’ve racked my brain for something meaningful to give to Baylor for Valentine’s Day.
I want it to be something special, something meaningful.
Finally, after days of thinking, I’ve decided.
It’s not a traditional gift, so I’ve also purchased a backup just in case.
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and I can’t wait to give it to her.
Yesterday, I stopped by her office and made sure we were still on for dinner tomorrow night.
I asked her a couple of weeks ago, and although I knew she hadn’t forgotten, I still wanted to make sure.
Partly because I’m excited to get time with her, and partly because I wanted an excuse to go to her office to see her.
We’re not technically dating—at least, not in her eyes—but for me, she’s my girl. With each passing day, I can feel the walls she’s erected around her heart start to crumble, so you can bet your ass I’ll be there, working my way through the rubble, fighting for her every step of the way.
I’m getting to the estate a little later than usual today.
Copeland and his brother, Chandler, were at my place, shoeing the horses.
I hung around and helped them, so I hope I didn’t miss Baylor.
If she’s not in the stables, I’ll just go to her office or knock on her front door.
I just need to lay eyes on her for a few minutes, maybe steal a kiss, and then I’ll be on my way.
Hopping out of my truck, I jog to the side door and push it open, trying to get out of the wind. It snowed last night, so I stomp my boots to get the snow off, and once I’m finished making noise, that’s when I hear it. A sniffle.
I’m on the move, and when I round the corner, I see Baylor, standing in front of Buckwheat’s stall, petting him.
I don’t wait to hear it again. I know what I heard.
Stepping up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my face in her neck.
Everything inside me quiets when she’s in my arms.
She sniffles again, and it’s breaking my heart, tearing it wide open. “What’s going on, baby?” I ask her. “Why are you crying?” I keep my voice low, hoping to soothe her in some way.
She shakes her head, but that’s not going to work for me. “Baby, I can’t fix it unless I know what happened.”
“It’s nothing,” she says, her voice raspy from her tears.
“Will you look at me?” I ask gently. She shakes her head again. Releasing her, I step to the side and slide my palm against her cheek, turning her face toward me. Her blue eyes are red-rimmed from her tears, and I fucking hate it. “You can tell me anything, Baylor.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Bay, nothing that has you this upset is stupid.” Leaning in, I press a kiss to her cheek.
“Come sit with me.” I take her hand in mine and lead her to a stack of hay bales.
I sit first, pulling her into my lap. We’re both wearing winter coats, but I still feel the tension in her body through all the layers.
My arms band around her waist, and I rest my chin on her shoulder, waiting patiently.
She wipes at her cheeks, which tells me more tears are falling, and it’s seriously eating at me seeing her upset and not knowing why or what I can do to make it better.
I don’t know how long we sit there, but eventually, the tension slowly releases, and she leans into me. “I’m here, Baylor. Whatever it is, I’m right here,” I tell her.
“I… I’m embarrassed to tell you. It’s—I’m being stupid.”
“Hey now, none of that. No one talks about my girl like that.”
She turns her head and gives me a half smile.
“Better, but that’s not the smile I’m used to seeing. I mean it, Bay, there is nothing you can’t talk to me about.” I know he crushed her, and her trust is fragile, so I wait. I’ll sit here as long as it takes, because she is what’s important.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, minutes… hell, it could be hours. Her cries have stopped, but she’s still not talking. I shift slightly beneath her, brushing a hand up her back. “Hey… stand and turn for me,” I murmur.
She hesitates, confused, but she slowly stands, and I guide her gently until she’s straddling my lap, her knees on either side of me.
It’s not about anything other than being closer to her.
I need to see her, really see her. My hands settle at her waist, steadying her as she sniffles, avoiding my gaze.
“Look at me,” I say softly.
It takes a second, but her eyes finally lift to mine. They’re glassy, rimmed red, and they completely wreck me.
“There you are,” I whisper. I hold her gaze, waiting her out. I can sit here all day.
“I got my period,” she says, her voice soft, like admitting it cost her something.
“Okay.” I nod, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.
This, I can handle. I grew up with a mother.
I know this time of the month can be emotional and painful.
“This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you to my place.
While I’m making your favorite fried chicken for dinner, you’re going to take a hot bath.
After we eat, I’ll make you the biggest ice cream sundae you can imagine, hold you, massage your back, and set you up with a heating pad.
Whatever you need, Baylor. You tell me how I can help, and I’ll do it. ”
Another tear slips down her cheek, and this time, I catch it with my thumb before it can fall. Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to the tip of her nose, which earns me another small, watery smile.
“I’m not in pain. I mean, not any more than normal,” she confesses.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what’s wrong, but she beats me to it.
“I didn’t want it, Mac. I thought maybe…
I thought maybe I might be pregnant. I don’t know why I’m crying like this,” she says, her voice cracking, and fuck if her confession doesn’t floor me and excite me all at once.
“You don’t have to know why,” I tell her gently. “You’re hurting. That’s enough.”
Her lips tremble, and she leans forward, pressing her forehead against mine like she doesn’t have the energy to hold herself up anymore. I tighten my hold on her automatically, one hand sliding up her back, slow and steady.
“I didn’t know I wanted to be,” she whispers. “Not until I knew for certain that I wasn’t.”
“Hey,” I murmur, tilting my head so I can still catch her eyes.
“You don’t have to handle this alone. That’s my job, too, remember?
” I’m trying to say the right thing, but all I keep thinking is that she wanted my baby.
The woman I love, the one I’ve wanted for years, she’s here, on my lap, crying because she wants my baby.
Mine.
A shaky breath leaves her, somewhere between a laugh and another sob.
“I meant what I said,” I continue, softer now. “We can still go to my place. Hot bath, food, heating pad, all of it. Or… we stay right here for a bit if that’s what you need. No rush.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” she asks, her voice small.
I laugh. “No, baby, you’re not crazy.”
“If I were…?” she asks, her voice trailing off.
“If you were, you’d make me the happiest man alive.
I told you, Baylor, you’re it for me. I’m all in, beautiful.
I know I told you that I’d give you space and not push you, but…
what do you want, Baylor? Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.
” I move one of my hands to rest over her heart. “Tell me what’s in here.”
Her blue eyes shimmer with tears, but she blinks them back. “I want you.”
My heart hammers inside my chest at her soft confession. “I’m yours.”
“I’m so scared, Macklin, but this morning, when I knew for sure I wasn’t pregnant, it’s like something clicked.
The past few months, you’ve been there. Steady and strong and so patient.
I still worry that you might change your mind, but that’s my past talking.
I know that’s not who you are. There may be more moments like this one,” she says as she places her palms on my cheeks, “but if you’ll have me—”
“I already do,” I cut in, my voice rougher than I intend. I don’t let her finish that sentence, not when I’ve spent so long waiting to hear even half of it. My hands come up, covering hers where they rest against my face, holding her like she might disappear if I don’t.
Her lips part, her breath catches, as if she’s struggling to believe my words. That’s fine. I’ll keep reminding her.
“I already have you,” I repeat, softer this time. “There’s no if with me, Baylor. There hasn’t been for a long time. I think it wasn’t our time. Your body knew that your head and your heart were still at battle, but now, now it’s our time.”
A tear slips free despite her efforts, tracing down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb, slower this time, more deliberate.
“What are you saying, Macklin?”
“I’m saying that if you’re ready for us to have a baby, to start the next chapter of a long and happy life together, that’s what we’ll do.
I’m scared, too,” I admit, because she deserves the truth, not just the steady version of me I try to be.
“Not about you. Never about you. But about messing this up. About not being what you need every single day.”
Her brows pull together. “You are,” she whispers. “You’ve stood behind your promise to give me time, but you’ve also been there. Quiet. Steady. You kept your word.”
“I want to be, and I will be. But this… us, it’s real. It matters. So, yeah, it scares me a little.”
She studies me like she’s trying to memorize something, like she’s looking for cracks that aren’t there. When she doesn’t find any, her shoulders finally drop, just a fraction.
“I’m tired of pushing you away. I don’t want to keep myself locked away and let the fear of past hurt ruin my life.”
“Then don’t.” My forehead presses to hers. “Stay. With me. We’ll figure out the rest as it comes, the messy moments, the good ones… all of it.”
Her eyes brighten as the sadness begins to fade. “And the baby thing?” she asks quietly, almost like she’s afraid to touch it again.