For twenty years and anytime in between, I promise to be whatever she needs me to be. I will be her friend, lover, husband, confidant, partner, provider…
That’s when he’d caught her crying, he remembered, when she said, You already are everything, Dec.
Really? Because then he turned into a self-involved promise-breaker. He forced himself to read the rest.
…chauffeur, chef, traveling partner, fellow camper, handyman, and father to our
He’d never finished writing the sentence. The one promise he could still keep, and he hadn’t written the damn words, but he did sign the promise with a flourish. And sometime after that, he’d lost this card. He’d remembered it only a few years later and assumed he’d thrown it away, like the rest of his life back then.
But someone had kept it. His grandmother, of course. And she left it here for Evie to find. To what end? To make her remember that he was the worst friend ever? To make her—
“You are not going to make me play ‘Ode to Joy.’”
He stuffed the card into his jeans pocket without giving himself a nanosecond to consider why he was doing that. He had to think about it, had to reread it, had to take at least some time to wallow in self-loathing and thank God she’d forgiven him. He had to…
“Declan?”
Of course, Dr. Dolittle would read his thoughts and know everything.
He turned, determined not to give anything away. “Yeah?”
She frowned at him, coming closer. “Are you all right?”
“I was just…thinking.”
“About your toast?” She handed him a glass of red wine. “Because I have mine all ready.” She grinned. “It’s a good one.”
“I can’t wait for this.” He held up the wine and prayed his hand was steady.
“What did the grape do when he was crushed?” she asked, her eyes glinting with humor.
“He let out a little wine?”
“Oh, you know me too well.” She dinged his glass. “Your turn.”
“Evie…” He took a slow breath, not sure how to say what he had to say and definitely not sure how to turn it into a toast. He couldn’t joke. This was too serious.
Her frown returned as she studied him. “What is it, Dec?”
“Let’s have a baby.”
Chapter Nineteen
Evie barely clung to her wineglass. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious.”
“I can tell.” She backed up, more from the sheer force of his expression than the words, which were…shocking. And kind of insanely beautiful. “What…made you want this?”
“You. Today. This house. Your family. And mine. Us.” His voice was thick on the last word, and he tried to laugh it off. “I can’t even form a sentence.”
“Really? ’Cause I think ‘Let’s have a baby’ is a pretty well-formed sentence.” She lifted her glass and angled her head. “Can I even drink this, then?”
“So you’ll do it?”
She managed a laugh at his enthusiasm, and maybe to cover the shock wave rolling through her. “I’ll drink to talking about it. How about that?” She tried to take a small sip, and he did, too, holding her gaze with one so fiery and intense she couldn’t look away.
“That’s a start,” he said after he swallowed, leading her toward the settee.
“Declan.” She dropped down, happy for the support of something under her. “I don’t know—”
“I do,” he said, the words bathed in certainty. “I know. It’s the right thing to do. And, Evie, before you launch into a laundry list of complications, hear me out. You call the shots. You make the decisions. You live where you want to live, and you’re the boss on this. I’d love to be in our baby’s life. Hell, I’d love to be in your life, in whatever capacity you think is right, but this would be for you.”
“Wow. You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“I guess I have, but it hit me. The rightness of it. And the…urgency.”
Really? Was it right? Urgent? Or…terrifying? She lifted a brow, still as puzzled by this sudden change as the very topic itself. “I appreciate you saying it’s for me, but let’s be frank. A baby belongs to two people.” And those two people belonged to each other, at least in a perfect world.
But was he offering a perfect world or a perfect solution?
“Of course,” he agreed. “That’s ideal, but what I’m trying to say is don’t let that stop you. You want a baby. You said you want a baby more than life itself. I want to give you…everything you want. Why wouldn’t we at least try?”
She took a slow breath and set the glass on the table, like he did, and probably for the same reason. The crystal would be much safer there than in her slightly trembling hand.
“I did try,” she said. “I told you it didn’t work.” As excuses went, it was weak, but it was all she had in the face of this bombshell detonating in front of her.
“I’ll go with you to a doctor or a specialist, if you like.”
The offer touched her, making her squeeze his hand. “That’s not necessary. The insemination didn’t take.”
His eyes flickered at the words. “So clinical.”
“Oh, it was.” She smiled and dropped back, sliding a look at him. “Cold and uncomfortable.”
“Maybe that’s why you didn’t get pregnant.”
She shot him a look. “Uh, sorry to go all doctor on you here, but that’s not how it works.”
“Really?” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve heard stories of people who got pregnant only when they stopped trying. Or adopted a baby after years of infertility, only to find out they’re expecting six months later. Maybe you didn’t have your head in the right place.”
She laughed. “The head’s not involved in reproduction, darling.”
“I know, but one thing I can promise, E.” He lifted her hands and kissed them. “It won’t be clinical or cold.”
From way deep in her belly, something awakened and fluttered. Something like a thousand aching, dancing, hungry butterflies. There was no question they’d been on their way to the bedroom, but…a baby? “I guess it would be fun to
