Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
They go about signing and talk a minute about his daughter. Before he leaves, I ask, “When can I, we, see him?”
He replies, “Shortly. The nurse will be in to take you over to see him.”
A collective sigh of relief fills the room, and we chat until we are taken down the hall to see him. My heart skips with every step I take, little nerves kicking in, excited to tell him the news.
Stopping outside the door, the nurse says, “Preferably one person at a time. Once he’s fully alert, though, you can all go in.”
Tommy says, “You’re family.”
“Oh, right.” I step aside for Nikki and Laird.
Laird smiles. “That’s you, Cate. You’re family.”
“Go on in,” Nikki says. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
I’m trying my best, but they’re making it really hard not to cry. “Thank you.”
Nikki rubs my back as I press my hand to the door and open it ever so gently. The room is dim with only a small lamp putting out light. A tray beside the bed has a pitcher and a cup next to it. But hearing his steady heartbeat on the monitor has mine beating faster.
It’s not until I close the door that my eyes fully adjust, and I see him. I walk to the bed and stand at the railing. His eyes are closed, his breath even, and his hair still stupidly sexy. There’s no pretense in his build, no ego to check. He’s not a rock star but the love of my life.
I slip my hand under his and stand, studying the bandage and how they wrapped him. Would I have done it differently to make sure he’s had the best care? It looks like they did a good job. So I take off my nurse’s cap and stand by my husband.
His lids slowly open, the smallest of urges tugging the corners of his mouth up when he sees me. “Did I survive, or did I weasel my way into heaven?”
I cover his hand with my other as well. “You’re right here with me, babe.” I start to debate whether I should wait to tell him until we’re home and he’s fully awake and aware. Home? I don’t even call my apartment home.
“That’s the only place I want to be.”
“The surgery went well.”
Shane nods but doesn’t seem as interested in that topic. He takes a breath and wraps his hand around mine. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
I laugh. “And this is the right time?”
“On the edge of good pain meds and reality . . . yeah, feels like the right time.”
Sliding the railing down, I lean down to kiss his head, and whisper, “What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s get married.”
“Those must be good drugs.” I slide my finger down his nose, grinning. “Did you forget? We’re already married.”
“No, Cat,” he says, his tone dropping and taking a turn. “Will you marry me? Forget about the school project. I want my life to be tied to yours in every way possible. I want the vows exchanged, the kiss at the altar. The honeymoon. All of it.” I’m shocked he can waggle his brows in this condition. “I want you and to raise a family together.”
“Shane,” I say, but it’s softer and has my heart burrowed in it. “I want that, too. Everything. The life, the family, the love, the vows.” I smile. “I want a family with you and to create our own home together.”
Home. It’s not about the house. It’s about us. I found my home in him. He’s found his in me.
He asks, “So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes.”
We’re about to kiss, but he stops and pushes back into the pillow to see my eyes. “Hey,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “Why the tears?”
“I’m happy.” I lean over and kiss him. His arm comes around as our mouths embrace. When our tongues touch, the slow dance begins. “We can’t do this here.”
“Sure we can.” A drowsy smile hangs on his face, reminding me of the meds he’s on, which appear to be doing a solid job. “We’re getting married.” His lids dip closed for a few seconds before he opens them again, and asks, “How’d the test turn out?”
The debate ended the moment he asked. I lean in and kiss him again, and with my lips still pressed to his, I whisper, “You’re going to be a daddy.”
His right arm comes around my waist to hold me closer. “Really?”
The tears I kept restraining now freely flow down my cheeks. “Yes. I’m pregnant.”
He lifts but then winces in pain. “I love you so much, Cat.” I stay closer, so he doesn’t have to move at all. “More than anything.”
“I love you, too, babe. More than anything.”
“I want you to hear this straight from my heart.” I wait with bated breath, and then he says, “I’m going to be the best damn husband and dad I can be for you and our babies. I promise you that.”