42. London
The next morning, I woke up in Murray’s bed alone.
Our bed. That had been decided sleepily last night when we arrived home.
No more separate bedrooms. Apparently, Murray and Kelly had a conversation while I was gone in which she revealed she knew we were together.
I was glad it was only because she’d caught us kissing and nothing more mortifying for all of us.
The pain in my ribs, thigh, and neck hurt worse than yesterday as I rolled over to check the time. Thankfully, my period cramps had gone away. Last night Murray had insisted I eat some French toast, then he’d procured a hot water bottle for my cramps and held me in his arms until I fell asleep.
The electric blackout blinds were down on the wraparound floor-to-ceiling windows so I had no idea what time it was by way of the light.
Murray had charged my phone for me. That sent a warm feeling through my aches and pains until I noticed the time. It was nearly eight o’clock.
Thankfully, today was my usual day off work.
Kelly hadn’t returned home by the time I fell asleep, but we’d decided not to share the Nick part of the equation and just say that I’d fallen down some stairs during a chaotic fire alarm.
No matter how wise or mature Kelly was for her age, she was only fourteen, and we both wanted to protect her from adult worries for as long as we felt it was right.
It was a slow journey out of bed to use the bathroom and then climb upstairs.
When I walked stiffly into the kitchen, Murray’s head whipped toward me from where he was sitting at the island next to Kelly as they ate scrambled eggs on toast. He pushed off the stool, almost taking his plate out with the sudden movement. “What are you doing up?”
At his disgruntled tone, I chuckled and then winced as it jolted my ribs. “I woke up.” My gaze moved to Kelly who watched me in concern. “Morning, sweetie.”
Her expression tightened. “Are you all right?”
“Just some bumps and bruises, I promise.” I curled my hands around Murray’s searching touch and smiled up at him. “Stop. I’m fine. I just need something in my belly before I take my anti-inflammatories.”
“I’ll make more eggs.” He moved toward the cooker top.
“Handsome, no.” I shook my head. “Finish your breakfast. I’ll eat some of the toast.”
“I’ll eat while I cook,” Murray insisted, gesturing with a wooden spoon for me to sit down.
Grimacing at the height of the stools, I waved toward the dining area in the next room. “I think I’ll need to sit over there.”
Before I knew it, Kelly had everyone set at the dining table and I had a coffee cup in front me as I sat at the head of it.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kelly inquired again as she sat with me while Murray cooked up some eggs in the kitchen.
“I’m sore,” I admitted, wincing as I turned my neck to check how stiff it was. “Everything feels a bit worse today.”
“Oh aye, that’s what happens. Once, when I used to do gymnastics, I fell off the beam, and I felt okay when it happened but the next day, I hurt really badly.”
“Did you break anything? Wait, you were a gymnast?”
“No and yes,” she answered both questions around a mouthful of food.
There was so much I still didn’t know about Murray’s daughter. About them both.
But I remembered what Murray had said last night. We had a lifetime for that.
Leaning closer to Kelly, I asked quietly, “How are you feeling about me and your dad?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “I want you both to be happy. I know you’re not like Jill.”
“I am not,” I assured her. “I’m … I’m honored to be welcomed into this family. You know that, right?”
Kelly studied me, a small smile playing on her lips. “Americans are kind of gushy, aren’t they.”
I laughed at her teasing. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’m kidding. Well, kind of not kidding. But it’s, like, way better than the opposite. Trust me.” Her expression turned serious. “I’d take your lovey-dovey crap over Jill’s ‘couldn’t give a crap’ any day of the week.”
“I’m not lovey-dovey.” I pretended to be affronted, hoping to keep her mood light. “I am—”
“American.”
“Stop it.” I nudged her leg with my foot and she giggled.
It was the best sound in the world.
Murray must have thought so too because when he came over with my plate of food, he set it before me and kissed me good morning.
“Och, I’d say you were making Dad all lovey-dovey too, but he’s always been that way.”
Murray rolled his eyes at his daughter’s gentle mockery and sat down across from her and next to me.
“So … this is us.” Kelly glanced between me and her dad. “London’s actually my stepmum, for real.”
Murray reached over to take my hand as he held his daughter’s gaze. “For real. But you can talk to us if this ever starts to feel too fast or too much.”
Something flickered across her expression, but she pasted on a smile and shook her head.
I knew Murray saw whatever that was too, so I voiced my suspicion. “I’m never going to take your dad away from you.”
Her head jerked up, eyes flashing defensively. “I never said you would.”
And I knew by her belligerent tone that I’d hit the nail on the head.
“I mean it, Kelly. I am not an attention hog. I don’t want your dad all to myself.
I want this. A family. All three of us.” Swallowing down the emotion that seemed to keep rising to the fore lately, I confessed, “This is all I’ve ever wanted. A real family.”
Murray’s hold on me was almost crushing.
Kelly held my gaze, hers shimmering now. “Then we’re yours.”
I beamed, laughing because I was a little embarrassed that the tears I was holding back fell freely down my cheeks.
“Americans,” Kelly teased again, even as she reached over to take my other hand in hers.