Patchwork Paradise(57)

“But you said you were glad I was with him.”

I glanced up. Oh, my gorgeous man. I kissed him lightly on the mouth, because how could I not with him looking at me as if I were an ephemeral dream on the verge of dissolving? “I saw you being happy. I wanted you to be happy, even if it made me sad. So, yes, Thomas, I’m in love with you and I want this.” I indicated the house, Milo, him, everything. “I want it all with you.”

“What about payment? I don’t want to live here rent-free, Ollie.”

“Okay.” I chewed on my lip. “Well, the truth is, I can’t afford to let you live here rent-free anymore.” Thomas startled a little, so I pushed on. “You know how Sam’s parents are trying to get the house?”

“Yes. The *s.”

I smiled weakly. “If I fight them, there’s a big chance I’ll lose.”

“What? You never said anything about that!”

“I know. Anyway, my best bet is to pay them for fifty percent of the house and get a mortgage.”

Thomas whistled between his teeth. “For a house like this? That’s gonna hurt.”

“I know. I found one bank that’ll give me the loan, but it will be tight regardless.” Something I didn’t like to admit, but there it was.

Thomas took my hand in his. “I’ll pay what I can. It won’t be half your monthly payments, I think, because I still have my own rent to pay, but I want to help.”

“Thanks.” It didn’t sit right that I had to accept this, but I had no choice. Thomas squeezed my hand. I squeezed him back. I’d have to sit down and go through my finances tomorrow, and—

Thomas squeezed my hand again, so I looked at him.

He grinned. “Serious conversation over now?” His rakish smile made me feel giddy, and I laughed.

“Yeah, okay. Did you have something else in mind, maybe?”

He tackled me onto the couch and kissed me breathless. The weight of him grounded me, made me feel safe. I loved it. I loved feeling him like this.

“I don’t know what will happen with Milo and Liesbeth,” he whispered. “But I want this too.”

“If you give me blue balls again, I may actually cry,” I groaned when he dove back in. He laughed and peppered my face with kisses, but sat up in the end.

“We should probably go get some sleep.”

“Ugh. Yeah, okay.” I hesitated. “My room?”

I didn’t have to explain the note of doubt in my voice. He gave me that warm look of his and asked, “You sure?”

You don’t mind, do you, Sam?

“Yes,” I said, taking his hand to guide him upstairs. “I’m sure.”

He disappeared into his bathroom for a minute, and I got ready in mine. When I was done, I contemplated putting Sam’s picture away, and that’s how he found me.

He slipped his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck. “You can leave it,” he murmured. “You don’t have to put it away.”

“Okay, but maybe—” He let go of me when I lifted the photograph and put it on my dresser instead. “There. C’mere.”

I slipped into bed and held the covers out for him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and I wished I hadn’t put on a T-shirt either. Our kisses were slow and sweet. We held each other as, in no time, we slipped into sleep.

When Milo wailed in my ear from the monitor, I opened my eyes with the thought that I missed the sound of my alarm clock. Thomas was already on his feet, but my whole body tingled with warmth, and I suspected he’d held me all night. I stretched, and my limbs quivered with pleasure. It’d been so long since I’d slept with the comfort of another man beside me. I’d missed it something fierce.

“I’ll get his bottle started and make coffee,” I said around a yawn.

Thomas leaned across the bed, kissed me morning breath and all, and smiled. “Morning, gorgeous,” he murmured.

“Aw, stahp.” I flattened my hair, but he ruffled it and left the room.

Milo was in a much better mood when he appeared in his daddy’s arms. He blew a raspberry at me and took a swing at Thomas’s nose.

“Oy,” I said, wriggling my finger against his tummy. “I happen to like that nose, so don’t you do any damage to it.”

“I think that’s the baby equivalent of a hug,” Thomas said a bit smugly.

“Whatever gets you through the day, babe.”



The rest of the weekend went by really well, not counting our little trip to Stijn’s bakery where Milo had a blow-out diaper the minute we walked inside. Our chocolate croissants didn’t appeal after that, but I told Thomas to wait for them to be wrapped up anyway, while I took Milo home and changed him.

We played in the yard with him, read books, pointed out birds, changed diapers, and cleaned spit-up from our hair, the couch, the floor, Milo’s nostrils. We walked miles and miles and miles, because while the bouncy chair was good for five minutes, Milo’s favorite thing was being held.

I couldn’t blame him. We napped when he napped, and my favorite thing, too, was being held by Thomas while we dozed.

On Sunday night, Milo went to sleep at eight. Maybe he was as tired from the weekend as we were. We collapsed on the couch. I was about to reach for the remote to see if we could watch a movie, when Thomas’s hand crept toward my leg.