Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(83)

She nearly fell asleep with the warm, reassuring sound of his heartbeat and the pain medication she’d taken home with her coursing through her veins. But then he squeezed her gently and asked, “Will you guys move in with me when we get home?”

“That’s . . . wow.” She took a moment to think. Because she’d been focusing on his heartbeat to lull her, she noted that it had sped up exponentially. “It’s a big step.”

“You already agreed to marry me. I’d say moving in together is sort of a half step back from that.”

Reasonable. But still . . . “Engaged isn’t married. I figured we had several months before we’d hit that point. I figured you’d want to wait for the termination paperwork to come through.”

He reached up and played with her hair, careful of the side that had hit the metal rod in the storage room and caused the concussion. “I want you and Zach now, and later. Whether the termination comes through in a month or three days before Zach turns eighteen, he’s still going to be yours, and mine. Paperwork changes nothing but logistics.”

With a sigh, she nodded. “Slowly. We’ll do it in stages. Zach will love it, I’m sure, but just in case, I want to make the change slow. Set up a bedroom in your place for him, try some weekends over there.”

“And I want to get a dog.”

“What?” She sat up so fast her head spun. Closing her eyes, she moaned and rested her forehead against his shoulder. “Damn it. You can’t do that to me right now.”

“It’s a dog. How was I supposed to know you’d react that way?” He rubbed up and down her back while the urge to vomit passed. “I’ve wanted a dog for a while. I’m a dog guy. Zach’s a dog guy. Now that I know someone would be home to take care of one if I have to work late, it seems like a good time to get one.”

“A dog,” she said again on a pained moan . . . but it had nothing to do with her concussion. “Changes everywhere. Wait . . . you’re in Hubert. It would mean he’d have to change schools, too. That’s not easy, with his restrictions.”

“Luckily, you’ve got a guy who knows the legal requirements for accommodations. What?” he asked when she looked up at him. “I read your blog. I’ve done a little research of my own. I know what you have a right to ask for.”

“Maybe I should have you write a guest column for the website,” she teased. “Ask Graham your legal questions.”

“I’d do it. I think the blog really has a shot at taking off, if you wanted to devote more time to it.”

“I do. I love yoga, and I’ll still always want to practice, and teach. But less classes. More time for Zach.” It sounded like heaven, especially when she was so tired.

“Perfect. Find the balance and go with it. It’s not about the money,” he added when she started to bite her lip. “It’s about the life. You’ve worked so hard for so long. I know you want to be there with Zach. With other kids, as they come along.”

Another baby. She cupped her belly in hope. A baby wanted, loved, adored, cherished by both parents from the moment it was created. “You’re right.”

“Music to my ears. Woman!” he yelped as she pinched him again. “If you were back up to full speed, you’d pay for that.”

“So I better take advantage now.” He flattened his hand over hers against his chest, staving off any additional pokes or prods.

“I really love you, you know,” she said, pressing a kiss to his chest. “What’s with the shirt, by the way? You always sleep without one.”

“As we’re not going to be getting into any funny business, the shirt stays on.”

“Aw.” She slid her hand under the hem, loving the feel of his skin under her palm. “Shame. Looking at your body is one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Not tonight, oh, horny one.” He gripped her wrist gently and pulled it back out. “You’re concussed still. No physical activity for two weeks. Doctor’s orders.”

“Shame, since tomorrow’s our last night alone together for a while.”

“Such is life. I’ve spent the last two months—stop—building up endurance and—Kara—learning how to cope with—okay, you have to quit.”

She looked up from where she’d slithered down—gently, of course—to tug at the drawstrings of his athletic shorts. “Spoilsport.”

“That’s me, running around ruining the fun for everyone. Well, not running,” he added with a grimace. “Get back up here. We want to make decent time tomorrow, so we’re starting early.”

“Yes, Mr. Bossy Pants.” She curled back up against him again. As his breathing evened out, she whispered, “I love you.”

“Love you too, yoga girl.”



THREE MONTHS LATER . . .

Graham walked in to chaos. He’d come to expect the chaos, as it was a near-daily occurrence anymore after Kara and Zach had fully moved in two weeks earlier. Her fears of Zach handling the news about their engagement had been overblown. The boy had taken their news with a whoop and a fist pump, along with an immediate request for a puppy. He’d also handled the shifting of schools like a champ, and with Kara’s firm but calm request for accommodations for his allergies in place, he’d begun to thrive in the new environment.