“Would you believe it if I said magic?” He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers but dropped them when I shook my head. “Fine. Nurse Nancy told me.”
“How did she know?” I asked. Kyle had gotten her number, I knew, but he hadn’t told me he’d handed over his whole damn contact card.
“She, uh,” he flashed me a sheepish smile, “she checked his chart for me.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” I doubted my brother would mind, but still.
Rare color flecked along the tops of Marco’s cheeks. “I might have made it worth her while.”
“What did you do?” I groaned. “Please tell me it’s not criminal.”
“Maybe this is a case where the less you know the better.” He lowered himself to sit on the rug at my feet. “But if Nancy and a group of her friends show up in Florence next summer, please don’t ask me any questions.”
“You promised her a trip?”
He glanced at the trees swaying in the breeze outside, replying offhandedly. “They might or might not be borrowing the jet, getting a limousine hired for them, and staying in a five-star hotel a friend of mine owns.”
“Marco,” I admonished, smacking a fist into his bicep. “That’s definitely illegal.”
His expression turned somber and his liquid-gold eyes came back to mine, filled to the brim with sincerity. “They could send me to prison for the rest of my life and it would still have been worth it to have this conversation with you.”
“What conversation?” Fear and hope tangled in my chest, ice and heat competing for space in my blood. “I thought you’d gone back home.”
“I was going to.” His tongue darted out and swiped across his lips. “But I couldn’t. I know you told me to leave, and if that’s still what you want, I’ll do it. But I’m not leaving Portland. If you need me or if you ever need to talk, I’ll be right here with you.”
“You are staying in the States?” I struggled to comprehend his words. “How? What about the company?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, holding his hands up to me. I eyed them for a moment, but there was no point. I was always going to take them, so I did. “It might take some commuting at first, but I’ll make it work. Whatever it takes to be part of your lives, I’ll do it.”
“Even if it means moving here?” I pressed my palms closer to his big ones, wrapping my fingers tightly around his.
“Whatever it takes, Addy.” Fierce determination lit a fire in his eyes. “I love you. I want you. My home is wherever you are. If that’s here, then it’s here.”
“What about your mom?” I asked. “And Aldo? They’d hate me even more than they already do.”
“They don’t hate you.” Something flickered across his gaze, and he let out a soft curse. “I really should have handled this better. When I came into your office that day, it was to talk to you about my phone call to my mother. She’d asked me to bring you back to the house.”
“What for?” I doubted it was to braid my hair and sing songs around a campfire.
The corners of Marco’s lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I think she wanted to apologize. I haven’t found out for sure, but that was the impression I got.”
“Did I miss the day when I suddenly stopped being American?” I clamped a hand over my mouth. Then it dawned on me. “Wait. Did you just say you loved me?”
“Only caught that part now, huh?” he breathed, his golden gaze intent on mine. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and I felt his fingers flex. “But yes, I did say that. I love you.”
The hope in my chest exploded, wiping out every tendril of fear and replacing my entire body with the kind of warmth I’d never believed I would feel for myself. I slid off the couch and into his lap, taking his handsome face between my hands. “I love you, too. So much.”
Marco’s face split into a beaming grin as his arms wound around my waist to tug me closer. “Really? You’re sure? Even if I did fuck things up between us?”
His breath ghosted across my skin as I lowered my forehead to rest against his. His eyelashes touched mine, and even our noses nestled beside one another. “I’m sure. I love you. I’ve already forgiven you. You weren’t the only one that fucked up. None of us handled it well.”
Marco breathed out, bringing his head down on my shoulder as he peered up at me from between those thick lashes framing his beautiful eyes. “No, we didn’t. How are you feeling? How is our baby?”
“The bean is fine.” I smiled, taking his hand and bringing it to my stomach.
His fingers splayed across it, his thumb tracing soothing lines through my shirt. “The bean?”
“I’m eight weeks along,” I whispered. “According to the internet, that means the baby is about as big as a kidney bean this week.”
Reverence entered his eyes as he stared into mine, his hand sliding beneath my shirt. Unlike the previous times when he’d done that, his touch wasn’t teasing a line to my breast now. He rested his hand on my bare skin and bowed his head.
He swallowed thickly. “I think shit just got real.”
“Ya think?” I asked, my lips brushing against his hair.
Nodding his response, I heard him murmuring to his child. “It’s all going to be okay now, baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you before, but that will never happen again. I belong to you and your mommy, heart and soul.”
As I listened, my heart filled to the brim along with my eyes. Love and tears—tears of love I supposed—spilled out of me as I tightened my hold on this man. My man.
We sat like that for a long time, talking in quiet voices about what had happened with both of us
