He smiled. “Understatement of the year.”
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, but blew out another breath, trying to control the whirlwind of emotions that whipped through her. Hope—God, so much of that—and joy and fear and gratitude, all exploding like a glitter bomb in her chest.
Finally, she reached for her glass and took a deep drink.
“Did something happen today?” she asked, still not quite getting this rather sudden shift. “One of your grannies talk you into this? Your uncle? I heard he’s done a fair bit of matchmaking to get all his kids married off, too.” Then she caught herself. “Not that you’re suggesting that.”
“What I’m suggesting is something I promised you a long time ago. You might not remember that once I wrote—”
She put her hand on his arm. “I remember.”
“You do?” He looked a little stricken, like a man who wouldn’t want to have made promises he didn’t keep.
“But life happened, Dec.” Actually, death. And they both knew it. “I’m not holding you to anything you wrote that morning.”
“I’m holding myself to it, and damn it, Evie, it’s not too late. It’s what you want. A baby. You’ll never find a better person for the job.”
“Talk about an understatement.”
“No, I mean in terms of giving you exactly what you want. The freedom to do what you want and live how you want…with your baby that I could make with you.”
But without him right next to her every minute? She appreciated the wildly generous offer, but still doubted it would work out that way. “I don’t really know what I want anymore,” she admitted.
“Well, start with a baby. You know you want that.”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “But it isn’t even only the baby, because obviously, that only lasts a few years. But a child. A son or daughter. A friend. A person who’ll be there when I’m old and care about the family treasures and take my advice and maybe give some of their own.” Her voice cracked as emotion welled up.
He scooted closer, taking both her hands. “What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to make it a package deal. You don’t have to take me to have my baby. I don’t want that to stop you. And I know you don’t want to wait. We’re not kids, and it might not happen right away.”
“I know.” She bit her lip. “We might have to try over and over again.”
“Multiple times.” He gave a sly smile. “I can think of so many worse ways to spend a night.”
“Of course, you’re cheaper and way sexier than the nurse at the fertility clinic.” She pulled him a little closer. “Declan,” she sighed.
“Evie,” he whispered back.
“Can I think about it?”
“All you want. Nonstop. I have been ever since your grandfather planted the idea, and then…” He caught himself.
“And then what?”
“I spent time with you,” he said, pulling her closer to wrap an arm around her. “And I’m right back where I was that morning in the mountains.”
“Oh yeah.” She settled next to him, relaxing into him. “That was a good morning.” Until it wasn’t.
“I thought I knew how my life was going to go,” he said, stroking her hair. “I figured we’d keep falling more and more in love, then we’d get married, maybe when you graduated from vet school, before you started neurology. Eventually, we’d live here and you’d have a practice, and we’d have kids, but…” His voice trailed off.
She didn’t answer, leaning into him instead and closing her eyes to imagine that life. It wasn’t the first time she had, but somehow tonight those fantasies felt bittersweet and beautiful and not so utterly out of reach.
“But it didn’t happen that way,” she finally said.
“It still can.” He took her chin in his hand to turn her face to his. “At least a piece of it can. Before we’re too old to think about it.”
“Which is, you know, rapidly approaching.”
“You’ve got a few good childbearing years in you, Evie Hewitt.” He grazed her lower lip with his thumb, sending a shiver through her. “And the rest of those dreams? The part about getting married and living here… All I want to say is everything is on the table. And don’t tell me there is no table. Whatever you want.”
The totality of the offer nearly took her breath away. “Declan, I need to think about it.”
“Okay, but thinking doesn’t make a baby.”
That made her smile, but the humor faded as she looked into his eyes, and all that hope rose up and clutched her heart. Was this even possible? In some ways, it didn’t matter. Just that he offered was the sweetest thing.
“Declan Mahoney, you are the damn finest man I’ve ever known. You have such a good soul and a big heart.” She touched his cheek. “And you’re still so freaking hot.”
He laughed softly, inching back to look at her. “And you are still the most beautiful, talented, sexiest, smartest, most empathetic woman I’ve ever known, Evie Hewitt. And you will make a stunning mother.”
She inhaled as the compliments washed over her as he kissed her. She could taste wine on his lips and the sweet, sweet words that pressed on the innermost place in her heart.
Instantly, the kiss heated, and she wanted more, parting her lips and clinging to him with all her strength.
When they broke for breath, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this you thinking about it?”
“Yeah. Thinking hard.” She slid her hands into his hair and pulled him down to stretch out on the sofa, which wasn’t nearly big enough for both of them.
But right then, she didn’t care. All that mattered was the weight of him on top of her, the strength and heat and pure masculinity of a man she cared deeply about. A man willing to give her anything and everything.
He kissed her throat and tunneled his fingers in her hair, making her weak and breathless.
“Evie,” he murmured. “Once we start…”
“I know, I know.” But she didn’t care.
