Page 90 of Saving Her Heart
"It's a magnificent house," he continues. "Three bedrooms, two baths, that enormous oak tree in the back you always loved. And it's in our price range if we combine our savings."
"You want to buy a house?" I ask.
"I want to buy a house with you," he corrects. "Our house. Not your apartment with my stuff or my place with yours, but ours."
"That's a big step," I say carefully.
"Is it?" he asks. "Bigger than moving in together? Than rebuilding your life after someone tried to burn it down?"
"No," I admit. "It's just... permanent."
"Is that bad?" He looks genuinely confused. "I thought we were permanent."
"We are," I say quickly. "I just wasn't expecting house shopping today."
"We don't have to decide today," he says. "But Hudson's mom is giving us first shot before she lists it. I thought we could at least look?"
I study his face, seeing the hope there mixed with uncertainty. "You really want to buy a house together?"
"I want to build a life together," he says simply. "A house is just part of that."
"What other parts?" I ask, thinking of Charli's advice to just say words.
"All the parts," he says. "The house, the questionably decorated rooms because we can't agree on furniture?—"
"Your neon sign is not going in our house," I interrupt.
"—the garden you'll try to maintain but probably kill, the dog we'll eventually get, the kids who'll destroy everything we buy for the first five years."
"Kids," I repeat.
"Eventually," he says carefully. "If you want."
"I want," I say softly. "Eventually."
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. "So? Want to look at a house with me?"
I think about Charli's question this morning, about jewelry store windows and waiting for signs. Maybe this is his way of showing me he's all in—not with a ring, not yet, but with something just as permanent.
"Yes," I say. "Let's look at the house."
His smile could power the entire town. "Really?"
"Really. But I need to ask you something," I say, gathering my courage.
"Anything."
"Where do you see us in a year?"
He looks surprised by the question but thinks about it seriously. "In our house. Arguing about where to put the Christmas tree. Hosting terrible dinner parties where you burn the main course. Planning a wedding maybe, if you're ready for that."
My heart stops. "A wedding?"
"Eventually," he says, watching my face carefully. "When you're ready. If you want that."
"I want that," I say, the words tumbling out. "Not today or tomorrow, but yes. I want that. With you."
His hand tightens on mine. "Good to know," he says, and there's something in his eyes that makes me think he's already got a plan.
