Page 85 of Every Beat of My Heart

“I’m so glad we got our tree early this year,” Fiona said when she passed us.

Aiden walked a little more slowly, dragging a large tree behind him.

Jameson whistled as he rushed to help him. “Where are you putting that bad boy?”

“Fiona wants to put it in the new house. The great room has high ceilings.”

“The construction’s going to be done in time for Christmas?” Jameson asked as he helped him maneuver the tree into the back of his truck.

Aiden gestured at Fiona. “If not, this one is going to move in with a sleeping bag.”

Fiona grinned and kissed him. “You know you love me.”

He caught her with a hand on her hip and brought her into his body. “I do.”

“Let us know if you need any help setting up the tree,” Jameson said as we got into his dad’s truck.

Al dropped us off at the cottage so we could gather up our things. Then we walked to the main house.

When Jameson interlaced his hand with mine, my heart did a little flip.

“I know we said we’d keep this open-ended but—”

“Are you asking if you can see me again?” I asked him, thinking his hesitation was adorable. I liked that I got to this man who came across as confident.

He nodded.

“I don’t see why not. Unless you think we should keep it quiet from the team?”

“I think we can spend time together but not let anyone at practice or games know.”

“That’s fair. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize either of our jobs or your coaching position.”

Jameson grinned, looking lighter than I’d ever seen him. “Thanks for coming. I had a great time.”

I laughed. “I bet you did.”

He tugged on my hand until I fell into his body, his expression somber. “This is real for me. I’m not in this just for the physical. I mean, that part is amazing, but I’m here for everything else: you, your amazing kid, and all the other things in between.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Get used to it, baby. I’ve been storing up all this love for a lifetime, and you’re the lucky recipient.” Jameson slipped right into his charming persona, but I thought it was genuine.

“I do feel lucky to have met you. I wasn’t looking for anything. I figured I’d be single for a while after the divorce.”

“Then your son set a fire, and you couldn’t help but fall for the smoking hot firefighter?”

I laughed. “Something like that.”

We resumed walking, Jameson swinging our joined hands. “I’m digging this story. Our kids are going to love it.”

He said it in an off-hand manner, and I wondered if he was serious. Did he see this as something that could last? Did he want kids? Did I? I thought I was done with Owen. But watching Jameson interact with Owen had the wheels in my head turning.

What would it be like to raise a child with an involved father? One who wanted to be there every step of the way? Who wanted to raise good human beings? It would be nice not to have all the responsibility.

We stepped onto the porch, and I had a flash of a dark-haired boy with hair flopping over his forehead, Jameson’s mischievous eyes and charm.

Jameson squeezed my hand and asked, “What were you thinking about? You went all soft.”

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