Page 27 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
She could feel herself blushing in shame. First, she didn’t want her parents at the wedding. Second, there was no one else back home she’d want to invite. All of the people she’d loved back home were already here. “That’s really sweet, Jean Luc—”
“But…”
She met his ever-knowing, ever-patient gaze. Her heart swelled. He loved her. He knew her. Why was she trying to skirt the real reason she didn’t want to set a wedding date? “You know I love you more than anything.”
His mouth tipped up. “I do.”
She twisted her hands. “Great. Gosh, this is so hard to say. I mean, everyone is being so nice to me, and I know you want to…”
“Always,ma chérie.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “For the rest of my life and beyond.”
She closed her eyes, trying to force the words out. “Could you…put pants on or something? I’m finding it hard to talk to you like this when you’re naked.”
He made a sound she didn’t recognize, and then she heard his soft footsteps along the tile. She peeked, dancing a little in place. This whole communicating from her heart thing was weird and hard, and sometimes she still felt like a beginner. When he returned, wearing a navy silk robe that flowed over him like water, she tried to smile.
“Okay, I’m spitting it out,” she said, taking a breath.
“Is this like the drooling thing?” he asked, his mouth quirking. “I’m trying to joke. Thea, this is me. Your love. You can tell me anything.”
“I know that.” She gripped the hand towel hanging from the side of her apron. “The Paris Roommates Group is bankrolling the bakery, along with you as a silent partner. I’m not…making any money yet, and I can’t contribute anything.” She threw up her hands. “It bothers me, okay? You pay for everything we do together, and then there’s my roommates—”
“We all love you, Thea,” he said with his usual practicality, “and we know you are in transition right now. You will be making money when the bakery is up and running.”
“But I can’t contribute financially to the wedding, Jean Luc!” She feared the outburst was so loud it might deflate her rising loaves. “My parents don’t have much, and even if they did, I don’t want anything from them. Oh, I don’t know how to explain. Then you talk about how much family you have in Italy, and while I love all of your relatives, I start thinking about how much that would be per plate. We used to make cakes and the like for weddings so I have some sense of the cost. Plus, a venue in Paris—”
“Thea!” He took her gently by the shoulders. “My love, I knew you were concerned about money but not at this level. Our celebration—and the guests we choose to invite—should be a blessing to us. Not a burden.”
She hung her head. “I know that. God, I’m getting a little weepy. But your mother has been asking me when I plan to go wedding dress shopping because she’d like to come, and all I can think about is that I can’t afford to buy my own dress. In crazy moments, I’ve even thought about looking for a YouTube tutorial on how to sew my own wedding dress.”
He blinked before smiling and nudging her lightly. “No, not that! Come on, you have to laugh now. Making your own dress? Thea, you are a baker, not a seamstress. And this whole line of talk is verging a little into the silly, as you would say. No?”
She sniffed, forcing back silly tears. “Yes. And yet, I still feel poor. Useless. Disempowered.”
He drew her to his chest and held her, embracing her so warmly she finally snuggled into him. “This is where I gently say my money is our money, as yours will be when it’s coming in.”
Her heart nearly burst with emotion at that. “I know I’m being ridiculous, but we can’t elope, and that’s the cheapest way. If we did, you would upset tons of your family.”
“We can have a small wedding if that would make you happier and more comfortable.” He tipped her chin up. “Because that is what I want you to feel, and I think what you want. Not these other negative feelings that will snuff the joy out of joining our lives together.”
“I want to feel the joy too.” She put her hand on his chest, feeling the steadiness of his heart. “And I do. Only the details are dragging me down.”
“Let’s take a step back.” He linked his hands at the small of her back as he gazed down at her. “When we marry and merge our lives together, are you going to continue to be upset about how much you can contribute? Because, my love, forgive me for saying this, but you as a baker are never going to make more than I do as a lawyer.”
“Not unless I become Éric Kayser,” she burst out.
His brow rose and he nodded. “I confess how happy I am that you are thinking as such. I wish that for you to rise as high and higher. Yet until it is so, let us state the normal market facts…”
His grounded practicality had her sighing. “Yes, you have more resources than I do. I mean, look at your apartment. It’s gorgeous! Like you. And the way you dress—although not in the mornings.”
He tugged on his robe. “Think of all the money I save by going around nude.”
Her face heated with a vengeance. “Mr. Nude has a certain ring to it, but I do think your clients would prefer you to represent them in clothes.”
“Not all of them, but we digress.” He caressed her cheek. “Would you delay letting us or our children do things because you do not have enough money to contribute? Because, Thea, I am hoping you will realize it gives me great joy to give to you. How am I different than your Paris roommates?”
“You aren’t, and I’m grateful for everything you and my roommates have given me.” She fisted her hands. “Sawyer would say I need a different perspective.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “How about this? When you love someone, you want to give them everything they could want. Were the situation reversed, would you not offer to pay for what I needed? My tux? My shoes? My family to come from Italy? Thea, this is part of love. There will always be ways in which practical matters are not equal. But when it comes to matters of the heart, we will always be equal because love is rooted there.”
