Page 94 of Where We Call Home

“Why do you always have to be so responsible?” I grumbled, grabbing my purse and turning away from his grip.

“One of us has to be,” he said with a knowing wink. “Besides, by me being responsible, you get to keep having all those dirty thoughts. Isn’t that more fun?”

A laugh escaped me. He wasn’t wrong. As we headed out the front door, my mind filled with images of Rhodes doing all kinds of deliciously inappropriate things to me.

“Oh, it’s fun, all right,” I teased, sighing dramatically. “The things you’re doing to me in my head right now…”

Rhodes let out a deep laugh. “You think this is funny? I’m soaking?—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he interrupted, shooting me a pointed look as he opened the passenger door of his truck.

I climbed in, but before he could shut the door, I grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him in for a slow, lingering kiss. When we finally broke apart, his eyes darkened with restraint.

“Theo,” he said, his tone half-scolding.

I grinned, unapologetically asking, “What?” in a timid tone.

“You’re trouble.”

Rhodes shut the truck door and rounded the front as I pulled my camera from my purse. Lately, I’d been trying to take more pictures, capturing moments I never wanted to forget.

Flipping through the camera’s gallery, I got lost in the memories. There were so many photos of Rhodes. Despite the distraction the other day, we’d finally finished the baby’s room. I let Rhodes do most of the work—truthfully, I wasn’t much help and mostly got in the way. Instead, I stayed off to the side, documenting the day in snapshots. One shot showed him standing with his back to me, paintbrush in hand, shoulders tense with focus. Another was from when I’d called his name, catching him off guard. He’d turned to me with a smirk, his expression soft, raw, and so completely unposed. Seeing him look at me like that—with joy—tugged at something deep inside me.

The more I saw him smile, the more he gave me pieces of his heart, the harder I fell for him.

I thought back to the other night, when he’d been buried inside me, cherishing my body. He told me, more likedemandedthat I was his. Even though I didn’t say anything out loud, in my head I agreed.

Old Theo would’ve ran. She’d have packed her bags and fled to another city or even another country. This version of me didn’t want to bolt. Instead, I wanted to dig my roots deeper into Faircloud. Because of him.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even notice Rhodes had climbed into the driver’s seat. When I came back to myself, we were already on the road.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

He always knew when I checked out, could sense when my mind wandered. I wasn’t ready to share my thoughts, not yet. I knew he felt something too. For now, I wanted to hold onto this quiet peace a little longer. Who knew what would happen when the simplicity ofuswas replaced by rules and titles?

“I was just looking at some photos I took,” I said casually, clicking through a few more. One flashed on the screen—a shot of my bare belly, framed by a bra and low-hanging pajama pants. I’d been taking progress photos, wanting to document my pregnancy so one day I could show my daughter what it was like when she was in Mommy’s belly.

“Can I see?” Rhodes asked, slowing to a stop at an intersection.

I nodded and turned the camera toward him. He leaned in closer, one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other draped over the center console.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he murmured, a small, tender smile forming on his lips.

I couldn’t wait either.The thought filled me with an ache so sweet, I almost blurted it out. But I held back—I wasn’t ready to say it aloud yet. Instead, I shifted the conversation.

“So, how are we going to act around everyone tonight?” I asked, my tone light but my question loaded.

“What do you mean?” Rhodes responded, his brows knitting together slightly as he kept his eyes on the road.

“Oh, come on. You know what I mean. We’ve clearly fallen into… whatever this is. We can’t be kissing or hugging or touching like we do at home.”

Rhodes nodded slowly, processing. “I guess you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it like that. Everything’s just felt so…” He trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Natural,” I supplied softly, because I felt it, too.

“Exactly.” He hummed in agreement, the sound low and warm. Then he sighed, glancing at me briefly. Our eyes met, and for a second, the truck felt smaller, the air heavier. “Theo, I think we should talk?—”

“Please, not right now,” I cut him off, my voice dipping into a quiet plea as I leaned my head back against the seat. “Not here. Not before we spend the night with our friends.”

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