The Plan (Off-Limits Romance, #4)(67)
He laughs. “You didn’t think I’d make you sleep on a plane bed, did you?”
“Well, um, yeah. That would be just fine with me.”
His hand comes over my belly. “We’ve gotta take care of the little one.”
Hearing him talk about the baby makes my heart sing. “The little bean.”
“Have you seen him or her on ultrasound?” he murmurs.
“Yes.” I watch his eyes for signs of anger or disappointment, but Gabe just says, “Can I see?”
“Yeah.” I pull my phone out, and I show him the pictures of what looks exactly like a little bean.
“A lima bean,” he smiles. “Fuck, Marley. That’s our bean.”
“I know. It’s crazy, right? I’m sorry I didn’t take you with me to the first appointment. I went just after my mom died.”
“It’s okay.” He rubs my belly once more, softly. “Can I go next time?”
“Yes—of course. And every time. If you want.”
“I do want.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, and we ride through the park. I watch the trees through the round window in our carriage. By the time it stops, I’m half asleep, and Gabe is laughing at me.
“I can carry you,” he offers.
“It’s okay.”
He helps me down, and then we’re walking down a little trail amidst the trees, and then there’s lights and we’re at what looks like a stone cottage. I squint at the sign. “Miss Mable’s Famous Peanut Butter Pies.”
“Oh God, Gabe. Pie!”
A little while later, we’re on a park bench, and we’re both shoving pie into our faces. “I’m going to gain like fifty pounds. But I don’t even care, because this shit is so good.”
“How you feeling? After this…you think you’d be up for one more stop if we make it quick?”
I lean on his shoulder. “Maybe one more stop. If it’s something really good.”
*
Gabe
Ah, hell. I hope she thinks it’s something really good. I’ve never done anything this risky before. Never put myself out there like I’m about to. After pie, I hailed a cab for Marley and she dozed against my shoulder while the city bowed around us.
“So tall,” she would murmur at the buildings—as I wondered if she’d end up being happy that I did it here.
As we drive toward our destination, I ask her, “What do you think about Fate? Really?” I can change our course of action some depending on her answer.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “You mean for the baby? It’s okay, I guess. It’s not a bad place.”
“Does it feel like home to you?”
“Well yeah.” She laughs. “I’m from there, after all.”
“But does it feel like it…could be our home? Our family’s home?”
I don’t miss the way her lips twitch in a surprised smile. “I’m not sure. I think anywhere could be our home. And I do have a job there.”
“Would you want to stay if we were to…you know…settle down?”
She grins, and I grin back at her.
“Honestly?” She chews her lip. “I really don’t know. I would hate to leave the clinic just after I got there, but if we ended up together like for real? Which would be nice,” she murmurs, squeezing my hand, “wouldn’t you need to be here in New York?”
I shrug. It’s easier, and logical, but I don’t have to. I tell her, “Would be good, but not a necessity.”
“You love it here?” she asks.
“I’ve loved it here—at times.”
When the taxi stops, I help Marley out and stand on legs that feel unsteady. My eyes travel up the pale stone building right beside us: the lit-up archway over the majestic iron-covered door, and all the windows on the upper floors, covered with small awnings and lit up with white lights.
Marley looks up, too. “Oh wow, is this our hotel? Beautiful.” She glances around. “Is this Fifth Avenue?”
“It is.” I swallow hard. “This is the store I brought us to.”
She frowns toward the doorway. “Harry Winston…”
“Want to go inside?”
A doorman gets the door for us, and Marley moves, a step ahead of me, into a palatial space where we’re greeted by a woman in a pretty, light blue dress.
“You must be Mr. McKellan and his special guest.”
I see Marley’s eyes widen as she blinks around.
“I’m Cece, and I’ll be your hostess this evening. Come right this way.”
Marley gives me a questioning look as she takes my hand, and we follow Cece down a narrow hall, into a small room filled with lit glass cases. I hear Marley’s soft gasp.
“Can we have a moment?”
Cece nods. “Of course.”
And then we’re in the room together, just Marley and me—and several million dollars’ worth of custom jewelry.
“Don’t panic,” I whisper, squeezing her hand.
She laughs, and it’s high-pitched and panicked.
“Marley—I just want to buy you something. Something to show you I’m in love with you…again. Or maybe part two of the first time. I want you to pick out what you want.”