Intent(57)

Ace followed us in his truck and is parked beside me. I hop out of the Jeep and all but skip over to his door. “It’s a beautiful afternoon for a walk. You don’t have to go back to work, do you?”

“No, babe. I’ve already showered and changed clothes. There’s no point in going back now.”

He climbs out of his truck and our hands naturally find each other as we stroll down the sidewalk.

“Now that I know we’re having a baby girl, I can’t resist the pull of shopping for every pink baby item I can possibly find. This urge may warrant a day trip to the Atlanta malls tomorrow, in which case, I’ll need to borrow your truck to haul everything back.”

“That can be arranged,” Ace assures me. “Do I need to rent a storage building for the next few weeks to hold your loot?”

I gasp loudly and my breath seizes in my chest. Stopping abruptly, I turn to Ace. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself, huh? I don’t even have anywhere to live yet. Oh my God! They’re doing a home study soon to approve me for the adoption. How could I be so scatterbrained? I’m living in a vacation rental.”

This is so unlike me—in every way. I’m normally organized, thorough, on point. But this monumental mistake could very well cost me the adoption. They can’t do a home study of my apartment in New York. What was I thinking?

“Layne, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. That’s it.” Ace is gently rubbing my upper arms. His voice is soothing and inviting. With bent knees, he stoops to put us eye to eye. “Where’d you go just now?”

“Fairly certain I’m having an anxiety attack.” It’s a strange feeling, this cross between sheer panic and an out-of-body experience.

“You’re panicking over where you’ll live with the baby? Why are you rattled over that?”

My response is delayed due to my gaping mouth and vacant stare. “They frown on giving a baby to a homeless woman, Ace.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, but the warmth in his eyes and his smile is palpable. “Layne, maybe we should have a long talk tonight about what it means to adopt a baby together. I’m not just watching from the sidelines, ready to bolt if I feel inconvenienced. To be blunt, I’m too damn old to play the field, especially when I know you’re the only one I want. That’s just how I’m wired, Layne. It’s you and me from now on.

“I guess I just assumed, and I’ll take the blame for that, but I assumed you’d move in with River and me. Think about it. With how frequently you sleep in my bed, you should go ahead and bring the rest of your stuff over today and never leave. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Can I tell you something without making you feel like I’m comparing you to my ex?”

“Shoot.”

“We were together for seven years and never lived in the same apartment. It was three years before we finally exchanged keys. Looking back, it’s painfully clear that Bobby and I were just convenient, familiar, comfortable. We never moved forward, never took a risk. We were too polite to put demands on each other. The truth is, I feel like I’m just now learning how to be in a relationship, and I’m unsure of where our boundary lines are.”

“That’s easy,” Ace replies. “You and I don’t have boundary lines. We’re all in, no holds barred, nothing held back. Don’t hide your feelings or desires from me. We’re way past being embarrassed or shy about anything we want. Deal?”

“Deal. But I may need you to tell me again later.”

“And why would I have to do that?” He arches one eyebrow in a display of mock threat.

“Because I love hearing you say it.”

“Consider it done, then.” His lips meet mine, softly, tenderly, lovingly. “Every day if that’s what it takes.”

We continue walking along the storefront window displays for a couple of blocks before reaching Duncan’s Fine Home Furnishings store. The retro-chic baby bassinet with a delicate pink lace skirt immediately catches my eye before I realize the display is the complete nursery with all the coordinating pieces. There’s a gorgeous mahogany crib, a matching changing table, and a rocker-glider chair.

“Let’s go in here,” I suggest and reach for the door.

The bell over the door jingles as we walk in, and a woman in her later fifties steps out from behind the counter. “Hello, can I help you with anything? Oh. Hi, Ace. How are you?”

“Fine, Stella. How are you?”

“Can’t complain. What brings the two of you in today?”

“The nursery furniture in the front window,” I reply. “It’s a gorgeous set. Do you have another set on the sales floor so I can get a closer look?”

“I’m afraid not. That’s a one-of-a-kind set, handmade locally. You’re welcome to step into the display area and look, though.”

After we’ve touched every surface, opened every drawer, and checked every square inch for infant safety, it’s blatantly clear we won’t be leaving the store without the furniture. Stella gave us some space to look everything over and talk about it before she approached us again.

“Ace, are you having another baby?” Stella asks when she rejoins us and her eyes drift to my stomach.

“Well, not me, personally,” Ace replies. “But Layne and I are getting ready to bring a baby home.”