I nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “Well, every journey starts with one step, and today I stepped toward you.” I smiled, feeling like through all of this drama and emotional pain, I’d taken a part of me back and diminished the power that ugly voice had over me. “I’m just not ready to step toward your mother. She’s scary.”
Max chuckled. “Not to worry. She knows she can’t be a part of our life in any way until we’re convinced she belongs there. We’ve got a long way to go.”
I wasn’t so sure I’d ever want her in my life, but seeing Max take control of this very difficult part of his past made me proud. And I guess it inspired me a little, too. It took a lot of strength to confront one’s fears. Especially for Max, who never even wanted to admit when he felt afraid. It was too imperfect in his mind to feel anything but confident. I think that was maybe why he’d retreated when I told him I was pregnant. He’d felt ashamed to show me anything but strength, something he couldn’t do after watching his sister lose her baby and almost die.
Well, with time, he’d get used to the fact that I didn’t need him to be perfect. I only needed him to be there.
Max glanced at his watch. “You and I have a company to build and a plane to catch.”
I grabbed my suitcase filled with clothes I’d shoved inside. I’d have to go shopping later because I did not have the right wardrobe for this new role I’d be taking on.
“Hey, by the way, how much money am I going to pay myself?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He grabbed one of my suitcases.
I lifted a brow. “Nothing? I have to make some money.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You’re marrying me.” He opened the front door to my apartment.
“I’m not going to sponge off of you. That’s weird.”
He shook his head as I passed him, wheeling my second suitcase.
He closed the door. “I see we’re going to have to work on your idea of marriage, Miss Snow.”
“Ha. Okay, Mr. Cole.”
“Starting with taking up one residence and getting rid of your revolting furniture.”
“Oh, we’re so keeping my thrift-store gems. We’ll put them in the nursery.” I was joking of course, but watching Max hold back his urge to retch was priceless.
“If it makes you happy, Lily. Then I’m all in.”
The next week, Max and I worked long hours—me not as much as him because he insisted I rest a little more than usual. Still, we managed to get up early, run together, which we loved, and put some very productive hours in at the office, including very hot sex over my awesome new desk at lunchtime. Honestly, I didn’t know if it was the hormones, the new vitamins I was taking, or simply the bliss of feeling like my life was in a good place with the man I loved, but I just couldn’t get enough of him. If I were a dude, I would’ve been walking around with a baseball-bat-sized erection in my pants all day long.
Thankfully, being the manly stud that Max was, he didn’t mind one bit, helping me with my endless sexual need. He was ready to serve selflessly.
“Yes, hard, hard work, keeping you satisfied, Lily,” as he’d say.
Anyway, we still managed to get the leases signed, materials ordered for the new locations, and have meetings with key retailers—ones who would carry our merchandise in strategic cities where we did not plan to open stores of our own. I spoke to my mother about running Lily’s Pad, and she had the great idea of adding LLL’s products, too. “Are you sure, Mom? I mean running a store is a lot of work,” I’d said. “Now you want to run two stores in one?”
“Honey, I spent most of my life taking care of you guys. For the first time, I’m doing something I enjoy for me. Of course, I do want a raise and we need to hire part-time help, but I wouldn’t dream of letting my shop go.”
How cute, I’d thought. She’d called it her shop. I supposed now it was. “You got it, Mom. See you Saturday.”
“Oh, I can’t believe you’re getting married on Sunday,” she’d squealed. “And I can’t wait to show everyone pictures.”
“Mom, you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“No. Of course not. Just the girls.”
Oh crap. That was something like twenty people. And possibly every person who entered the store.
“Mom! It’s supposed to be a secret.”
“Oh, now. They won’t tell a soul.”
Those women gossiped so much, they put tabloids to shame. “I guess it’s too late to do anything about it.”
“Oh, you’re such a worrywart,” she said.
Me? The queen of worrying had called me a worrywart? Wow, times really are changing.