Page 86 of Dreamboat

I told him any real New Yorker wouldn’t dare eat pizza with utensils when I noticed him heading toward the drawer where he stores his forks, knives and spoons. He laughed and sat down next to me at his kitchen island before telling me that he never had eaten pizza that way and never would.

“It’s at a university there.” I take a deep breath. “I’d be teaching a course in humanities to begin with, but there’s a potential for more.”

He rubs his face, stopping to suck in a deep breath. “I’m happy for you, Delia.”

“Are you?”

His gaze meets mine. “If this brings you fulfillment, yes, I am. I want that for you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

I believe him. It’s not just the tone of his voice. It’s the way he’s looking at me, or maybe it’s into me. I swear that this man can see my soul.

“What if I go?”

“I’ll go with you.” There’s no hesitation at all in his words or a break in his gaze. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

“As a co-parent to our baby?” I question, skirting around the real question I want to ask. “You’d give up everything here to move to Paris with me for our child?”

He arches his neck back. Silence sits between us for what feels like endless moments even though I know it’s not more than a few scant seconds.

When his gaze falls back to my face, I see something within his eyes I’ve ached to see. I may have allowed myself to not want this, but now that I’m staring right at it, I’ve never wished for anything more.

“I wouldn’t be giving up anything if I followed you to Paris.” His hand reaches for mine. “I’d be gaining everything. I love you, Delia. A life with you is all I want. It’s all I’ll ever want.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Donovan

I’d blame it on the pizza, and my lack of sleep, but the truth is that I just handed my heart over to Delia Hawthorne and I’m so fucking relieved.

The weight of that confession has been bearing down on me for weeks and now that it’s out there, I feel free, so I repeat the words again so there’s no mistaking how desperately I mean them, “I love you with all of my heart, Delia.”

“I love you, too.”

I stare at her lips. I didn’t just hear that. There’s no way in hell that this woman sitting in front of me feels exactly the same way I do. She’s never indicated that she wants more than fun and a co-parent arrangement with me.

“You love me?” I ask, my voice cracking as I do.

“I do,” she answers in a way that briefly conjures up an image of her in a white wedding dress and me in a tux facing each other with rings on our fingers.

“Delia,” I breathe out her name slowly. “You’re sure?”

“I thought I loved someone once,” she tells me. “But I know now that’s not what it was.”

I’m not shocked to hear that she cared deeply for a man in the past. She’s a kind woman with an enormous heart. It makes sense that another man would have made her feel cherished and adored.

“He never made me feel the way you do,” she explains her eyes welling with unshed tears. “You make me feel as though I’m the only person in the room, or the world for that matter.”

“You are to me.”

That parts her lips in a soft smile. “I doubted that a little bit since you went to Boston.”

“Why?” I ask. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she assures me. “Matt mentioned something last night about you going to conferences but not actually attending them. Then he said there was a picture of you with one of Carolyn’s friends.”

“Who knew Matthew was such a gossip?” I toss her a grin.

“My emotions were all over the place.” She shakes her head. “I’ve spent today thinking about Paris, and New York, and our baby, and our future.”

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