Page 61 of Bringing Home the Bacon
“Of course,” he says.
“You don’t have hopes of having two boys?”
Bacon shrugs. “Not particularly.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Doesn’t every man want sons? My dad certainly did. My grandad always seemed more invested in the boys too.”
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a small smile. “May I?” He gestures to the exam table, where I sit with a paper sheet over my lap.
I move over and pat the space next to me. He sits, and I snuggle up close beside him. He puts his arm around me and pulls me even closer.
His voice is soft and gentle when he says, “I feel sorry for any of the men in your life who made you feel like you weren’t a top priority. If they couldn’t see how strong and smart and hilarious you are? Well, then, they were idiots. Because you, Colleen Bedd, are incredible.”
“Aw,” I say and drop my head on his shoulder.
“I’m serious, Colleen.” He turns his head and kisses my hair.
Has anyone ever kissed my hair?
“Thank you. You’re very sweet. But maybe we shouldn’t call my deceased father and grandfather idiots?” I half laugh, half cringe.
He nods. “My apologies. I retract the insensitive name-calling but not the sentiment itself. Your dad and grandad missed out.”
“Don’t get me wrong, they were both good men. They worked hard, and they provided. But I guess I never felt like they wanted to know me.” I pause. This is the first time I’ve expressed this stuff out loud. It feels disrespectful somehow. “Am I making any sense?”
“More than you know.” Bacon clears his throat. “Colleen. I’m aware that our relationship so far has been—” He stops himself abruptly. “Are you comfortable with me calling this a relationship? I know you want to take things slow.”
“When did I ever say I want to take things slow?” I laugh.
“Last night you said?—”
“I said I’m not ready to say I love you, but Bacon, I’m pregnant with two of your children. My family threw you a pork party. We’re most definitely in a relationship, and nothing about it is slow.”
“Can I ask your opinion on something?” he says tentatively. He looks more nervous than he did on the Yes, Chef! stage.
“You’re not asking me to marry you, are you?” I panic slightly.
“My, my, we’re confident, aren’t we?” he jokes.
My cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be?—”
“Colleen Bedd, I’d marry the shit out of you right now—today—if you’d let me. But I know you’re not ready for that. I was thinking, though… we should talk about where we’re going to live.”
Before Bacon came back to the house last night—and before my chat with Gran—I’d been staring at the glow-in the-dark star stickers on my bedroom ceiling, wondering how we would make this all work. He’s supposed to open a successful restaurant in a big city in the next few months. And, as much as I craved a day to be wild and anonymous in Manhattan, my home is here in Fork Lick. I don’t want to leave Gran and my pain-in-the-butt brothers. I have sisters-in-law now too, for all intents and purposes, and I love them to bits. I feel like we’re moving into The Bedd Family Version 2.0. We’re growing, and not just in size, but emotionally too. Ethan and Alex have buried the hatchet, so to speak. Sam is discovering himself more and more every day, which, as his sister, is a thrill to see. The Bedd Family is finally finding our footing together, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.
It’s a huge relief when Bacon says…
“What if I relocate to Fork Lick?”
“You’d do that?” I breathe. “What about your place in Philadelphia? What about your plans for the restaurant?”
“Once the show ended, my plan was to head back to Philly and the restaurant where I’ve been working for years. But I didn’t expect to win, you know?” He chuckles. “I get to open my own restaurant now, so I called my old boss and let him know my temporary leave would be permanent. And I’m month to month with my landlord in Philly. I’ll email him this afternoon and give my notice too. There’s a whole world to explore and I’m ready to explore it.”
“You could go anywhere on the planet, and you’re choosing Fork Lick of all places?” I marvel.
“I’m choosing you and our babies.”
Sweeter words were never spoken.
