Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(15)

I made a noncommittal sound.

When we reached the landing, he didn’t let my arm go, and I couldn’t find it in me to care. It was strong, secure, reliable. Everything in his touch spoke of dependability.

“We can put in a door at the top of the stairs for more privacy. The living room is here, the kitchen over there. My room is there, and your room is back here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

I took a second to look around as he towed me nervously through his place. The space was open and inviting, the big windows at the back of the house letting in buttery light through sheer curtains. The kitchen was small but cozy with a table for four that boasted a pot brimming with succulents and two place mats. The surfaces were pristine, light and airy without being feminine at all. Everything I saw was neat and orderly, clean and uncluttered.

I found I liked it very much.

We passed a room on the way to the one I would inhabit, which I thought he might be saving for last. I caught a glimpse of a desk and bookshelves and assumed it was his office, which he’d mentioned would become the baby’s room.

The place where that baby currently resided did a curious flip at the prospect.

We stepped into the guest room, and I was instantly hit with an uncommon sense of rightness.

My mother would have attributed it to feng shui or the direction of the windows or the placement of the bed in conjunction with the chair and dresser. But I believed it was more than that. It was a flame in my ribs that told me this was a step. This was a doorway. This was tangible movement toward my future.

My throat closed, clamped shut by unfamiliar emotion.

Damn hormones. Damn them all, every one of them.

As I swallowed to try to dislodge the lump in my esophagus, Theo chattered nervously, avoiding eye contact. Every time I tried to speak, he’d cut me off to explain some more as he showed me the space, pointing out its features like a real estate agent. There was no emotion in his explanations, only logic, as if he knew that would be the only applicable argument.

I watched and listened, letting him say what he needed to while I fought my feelings down. He was so concerned, so worried I would say no. I thought about his past. He’d never known his father, and now he was going to become one.

And here I was, the vehicle for his hopes and dreams. I held the power to take all that away from him, and he was afraid I would. He was afraid I’d cut him out, I realized. He was afraid to lose his child.

In that moment, with Theo regaling details about the plumbing, my needs became secondary. My discomfort and apprehension quieted, replaced by concern for him. Because if the tables were turned, I would have the same fears. And I knew right then that I wouldn’t be a part of his pain. I’d already decided to move in. But that was the first moment I wasn’t afraid of doing it.

“Theodore,” I started gently, not trusting my voice.

“Hang on, Kate. One more thing.”

The use of my nickname made me sigh, but I found myself smiling despite the annoyance. He was perhaps the only person in the world that could call me Kate and not incite violence.

He snagged my hand and pulled me back into the hallway, pushing open the door to his office.

“And this will be the baby’s room. Imagine it, Kate. We’ll move the bookshelves, put the crib over there,” he said with a gesture to the far wall. “An armchair and footstool there, in the corner, and a changing table here. It’s right across the hall from you, but I’ll be just on the other side of the house for anything you need. We can take shifts at night so you won’t have to do it all alone. We can decorate it however you want, anything you want.”

He paused, shifted, stood before me, a pillar of strength and protection. And perhaps it was my delicate state, but I wanted to wrap myself up in the feeling and drift away on its eddies.

“Kate,” he said, a single, soft syllable, “I know it’s a lot. A little wild, a little insane. But it’s not irresponsible. Please, let me do this with you. Please, don’t do it alone. I want you both here with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. I just need you to give me the chance.”

Fear flickered behind his black eyes when I finally parted my lips to speak.

“I came over today to say yes,” I said with a smile. “I’ll move in with you.”

The sweetest expression passed across his face, a mixture of relief and elation, though it was contained. He was contained, though the latent energy in him reached through the slim space between us. His smile tilted into a smirk, his eyes shining with excitement.

“You let me take you all through the house when you were going to say yes anyway?”

“I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t let me answer.”

His laugh was little more than a puff of air. “I’m surprised you didn’t force your hand anyway.”

I shrugged, though my cheeks warmed. “It was important to you, so it was important to me.”

The spark in his eyes smoldered.

But before he could comment, I spoke again. “I have some perimeters though.”

He nodded, that smirk ticking higher. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

“The first is the most relevant—I won’t move in until after my first trimester. Once into the second trimester, the odds for complications decrease dramatically. Before we make any major changes, I’d like to be through that statistic.”