Page 137 of Your Soul to Keep

He curled his big body tightly around me. His lips moved in my hair, but no sound escaped.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

Voice hoarse, he promised, “We’ll make room. Even if I have to build an addition on the house, we’ll make room.”

37

Reckoning

Whenthedoorbellrangthe next morning, I knew.

It was early, we’d just finished our coffee, and I wasn’t ready, but I knew.

“Is that her?”

“Yeah.” He stood and pulled me up from my chair, then tugged me into his chest, his sapphire eyes wary on mine as he brushed back my hair. “I know it’s fast, but she’s leaving tonight. You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to, but I’d appreciate it if you would.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

Zoe was Dylan’s birth mother, Gabe was her father, and I knew where babies came from. I had to get past my own insecurities and trust what he told me was truth.

I closed my eyes. It would only be more difficult if I put it off.

He cupped my face in his hands. “Remember, Zoe and I already talked about all this.”

I flinched.

His chin dipped. “Shae,” he warned. “Don’t even think about it. I have no interest in her, but I do want what’s best for Dylan.”

I pursed my lips. “I know.”

“Zoe knows the deal. You’re with me. We’re raising Dylan together. You’re already Mommy and we are not taking that away from her or you.”

I met his earnest gaze.

“She has a decision to make, but it is her decision.” He twisted his lips to the side. “Until Dylan asks. When Dylan asks, I won’t lie to her.”

I nodded.

He tightened his grip on my face, the frown line between his brows pronounced. His eyes narrowed as he searched mine. “Are we okay?”

I relaxed and covered his hands with mine. Leaning closer, I promised, “Yes. We are most definitely okay.”

He blew out a breath and dropped a quick kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get this over with.”

Tugging me by the hand, he led me out of the kitchen to the living room.

I paced back and forth while he answered the front door, his greeting perfunctory.

She murmured something too low for me to hear, then she was there, trailing Gabe into the living room.

Gabe dropped into his chair, long legs stretched out, ankles crossed.

Her wary eyes flicked up to mine before dancing away.

Turning to Gabe, she asked softly, “Can you give us a minute, Gabe?”

He settled deeper into his chair, crossed those corded, tatted-up arms over his broad chest, and pasted a mocking smile on his face. “You know what? I don’t think I can.”

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