Page 72 of Finding Home with You

“Ry…”

“No arguments,” I say, cutting her off as I press a hard kiss to her mouth. “And it would be nice if I came home to find you naked,” I add, winking at her. Erin rolls her eyes at me, but she’s smiling now. I grin back, leaning in again so our foreheads are touching. “I love you, Erin,” I whisper.

She’s staring back at me, all sorts of emotions passing over her face. Just as I’m about to pull back and leave, I hear her. The words so faint they are barely a whisper.

“I love you too.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I try to take a mental picture of this exact moment. Despite me having said the same words to her a hundred times already, I can tell she’s petrified by the fact she’s finally said them out loud to me. And despite always knowing she felt this way, I also know I need to reassure her, convince her that she doesn’t need to be scared to admit how she feels.

So I pull out my phone, make a point of checking the date and the time before I open up the voice memo app and hold it in front of her.

“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?” I ask, grinning a little.

Erin glances at my phone before looking back at me, shaking her head a little. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath before she says, “I said, I love you too, you cheeky shit. Now hurry up and go to work so you can come home already.”

I laugh, closing the app as I lean in and kiss her, before turning and walking out of the kitchen, my heart floating inside my chest.

As I pull out of Erin’s drive, I’m practically on cloud nine. Despite all the shit that’s gone down over the past forty-eight hours and all the problems I still need to solve, nothing can wipe the smile off my face.

Not only am I going to be a dad, but Erin loves me. She’s finally fucking admitted she loves me, which feels like nothing short of a miracle at the moment.

Turning up the radio, I turn into Main Street and head toward the highway back to Boston. But as I pass the police station, I’m reminded of something else I wanted to do before leaving.

I see Finn arrive just as I’m getting out of the car. Slamming the door shut, I call out to him.

Finn turns, sees me standing by the hood, arms folded across my chest and jogs over to me. “Hey, Ryan, shit how’s Erin, everything okay?” he asks, a look of concern on his face.

I’d called him from the hospital after I’d finally seen Erin and found out what had happened to her. It hadn’t been a long conversation and I hadn’t exactly been in a good mood either, the discussion limited to me telling him Erin had been in a car accident but would recover, before I’d hung up, not giving him a chance to ask any questions.

“She is now,” I say. “No thanks to you though.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asks, stopping.

“Why the fuck wasn’t an officer outside her house?” I ask, hands on hips now, my blood boiling as I stare at him. “Why wasn’t someone watching her, making sure she was safe. How the fuck could you let this happen, Finn? How. The. Fuck?”

“Enough,” he yells, slamming his hand down on the hood of the car. “You think I don’t feel shit enough about all of this? For fuck’s sake, Ryan.” He stops, draws in a deep breath. “I wanted to do all those things for her, you know, but I couldn’t. She asked me not to and we both know...”

“Erin is too stubborn for her own good,” I say, cutting him off. “You should know that and you should have ignored her and done it anyway.”

“I couldn’t,” he repeats.

“Why the fuck not?” I ask in frustration, adrenaline coursing through me.

“Think about it,” he says, not bothering to hide his condescending tone. “If I’d had someone watching her. If I’d formally assigned an officer to her, then all of this would have had to be written up. And,” he says, stepping toward me, “if this was written up, then it becomes official. If it becomes official, then an investigation starts,” he adds. “And all of that means Erin gets exposed and questions start to get asked.”

I let out a deep breath, running a hand roughly through my hair. I know he’s right, but none of what he’s said makes any of this any better. “She nearly died, Finn,” I spit out. “She nearly died when she drove my car. The fucking brakes were cut and it was meant for me and our fuck up nearly cost Erin and our…” I stop, not ready to share the added detail about our baby just yet. “It nearly cost her her life,” I say, the adrenaline surge suddenly dissipating and leaving me exhausted.

“I know,” Finn says. “I feel like shit about all of this, Ryan, seriously. But I did everything I could, given the circumstances. Hell, on the nights you weren’t around, Erin spent most of them with me anyway, so I always figured she was…”

“What?” I shout, my head jacking up as a jolt runs down my spine. “What the fuck does that mean, spent her nights with you?”

I watch as Finn swallows hard, a nervous look flashing across his face now as he matches my stare. “She used to come over,” he says, his words measured, careful. “Or I’d come to her house. It made her feel safe knowing I was in the house while she slept.”

I let out a humorless laugh, my earlier elation now a distant memory. “I see,” I throw back at him. “And where exactly did you sleep on those nights, huh?”

Finn takes a step backward, scrubbing a hand down his face. “With her.”

“With her?” I ask, my anger surging again. “You mean, in the same bed?”

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