“I did.” His voice is soft. “And look at Cole. He’s happy and healthy, and me? I’m good too.” He leans back in the chair and takes a sip of his coffee. “You will be too.”
The baby kicks and I smile, pressing my hand against the spot. “I think she’s telling me you’re right.” I laugh. Ryder smiles, looking at my stomach. “Do you … want to feel?” I ask hesitantly.
He looks surprised but his lips crook up into a smile. “Sure.” He holds out his hand and I take it, pressing against my stomach. She wiggles around so I move his hand to a different spot.
“Just wait,” I whisper, holding my hand over his.
She gives a good solid kick and Ryder’s breath catches. “Nothing else in the world compares to that feeling,” he says, looking up at me. She kicks again and he laughs. “She’s a strong one.”
“She is,” I agree and release his hand. He sits back and his hand falls away. “My friends want to throw me a baby shower.” I sigh.
He raises a brow. “And that’s a bad thing?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know anyone except the three of them. My mom said I should invite the people from Group. Do you think they’d be into that sort of thing?”
He shrugs and takes another sip of coffee. “I think some might.”
“Hmm,” I hum. “Maybe I should let them do it then. I’m the first one in our group of friends to have a baby.”
“You should definitely let them. Plus, a baby shower means diapers—and trust me, you’re going to need diapers. I’ll never understand how something so small can poop so much.”
I laugh. “I’ve always wondered that myself. There’s something else I wanted to ask you …” I hedge.
“Yes?” he prompts, lifting a brow.
“I need to start ordering the furniture for the nursery …” I wiggle around, uncomfortable in this conversation. “… and I was wondering if maybe you’d help put it together.”
“I can do that.”
He didn’t pause, or hesitate for even a millisecond when answering me.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. It’ll be fun.”
“Fun?” I repeat in disbelief.
“You’ll be there, right?” he counters.
“Yes,” I say slowly, unsure where he’s going with this.
“Then it’ll be fun.” He grins now. “Trust me.”
“Thanks,” I say.
He narrows his eyes on me. “You should know by now that I’d do just about anything for you.” I look away, my cheeks heating. “Why does that embarrass you?” He questions, noticing the flush in my cheeks.
“I’m not embarrassed,” I say. “I’m … pleased.”
“Pleased?” He smiles and sits back in the chair. “Good to know.”
“I better go,” I say, standing.
He grabs my hand. “Stay.”
“Why?” I ask, my fingers shaking in his grasp.
“I could give you some bullshit answer here, but really it’s simple. You should stay because you want to, and I want you to, too.”
“How do you know I want to stay?” I ask, my voice soft.
“Because you wanted to go.”
“That makes no sense.” I shake my head.
“You decided to leave because you were feeling too comfortable. It was fight or flight. Simple as that. I’m asking you to fight. To stay.”
I sit back down in the chair and my breath shakes because this man … this man is getting to me. I’m imagining more with him. Kisses and romantic dates. Cooking dinners together and giving the kids baths. I’m beginning to imagine a life with him. It’s scary, and the reason I wanted to leave—so he’s completely right when he says I wanted to leave because I wanted to stay.
“This whole thing confuses me,” I confess.
“It does me too.” He shrugs, wrapping his long fingers around the coffee mug. “This isn’t easy for me, either, you know?”
I look at him from beneath my lashes. “I never really thought about that.”
“I know you haven’t, and that’s okay. You have enough on your mind. But when you get freaked out by what you’re feeling just talk to me, I might be feeling it too and it helps to talk.”
I clear my throat. “D-Do you see a future with me in it?”
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Do you see a future with me?”
I blink back the tears. “Yes,” I confess.
“And that frightens you.” I nod. “It does me too,” he sighs. “I think something would be wrong with us if it didn’t scare us.”
I smile a bit at that. “This is normal,” I state.
“Completely normal,” he agrees. “That’s why I keep saying it’s okay to take our time. If it ever gets to be too much for you just tell me and we’ll slow down.”
“The same goes for you too,” I tell him. “You can tell me if it becomes too much.”
He nods. “I know.” He stands from the table and holds out his hand to me. I place mine in his without a second of thought. “I want to show you something.”
He leads me outside and around the side of the house to a shed. He lets go of my hand and twists the round knob on the combination. It comes undone and he swings the doors open.
I eye him. “You’re not taking me in here to chop me into a million pieces are you?”