of his shirt so that crinkly dark hair peeked through.
My palms tingled to touch. To explore every inch of him when he wouldn’t know and couldn’t stop me from learning his secrets.
I wanted so much for him to trust me with them. Just as I ached to trust.
My stomach rumbled as I rolled up to a sitting position, testing my legs. They seemed steady enough, so I rose to go to the bathroom.
When I came back, moving slowly but moving nonetheless, he was still dozing. He looked worn out.
We were a pair. Walking around like broken zombies, when the key to beginning to make each other whole was in our grasp.
So fucking close.
I grabbed the extra throw off the couch—he always kept two on hand for us—and tucked it around him. He stirred momentarily, his lips moving, but then he was asleep again.
“I love you,” I breathed, knowing he couldn’t hear me. Still stunned he’d said those words to me when everything had been so fuzzy and indistinct.
But not that. Never that. Deep in my heart, I’d known but hearing it was so much different. Even if he’d said the words while he was frightened for me.
God, he’d been crying. My strong, stoic, sweet sheriff had laid himself bare for me.
When you were unconscious.
What would happen when he woke? When the temporary—albeit ridiculous—crisis had passed, would he retreat behind the rigid demeanor he clung to?
I couldn’t think about any of that right now. I couldn’t really think, period. My brain had put up a vacancy sign. Oh, I was processing things just fine, but I didn’t want to go back to the same feelings of confusion and worry and pain I’d left behind.
Those were for future Gina.
I tightened the blanket around me and padded across the floor to look for the baby and Sadie. They had to be hungry. I went upstairs to Sami’s nursery-slash-Jared’s office and flipped on the light, my panic growing when I found it empty. I turned the light back off and rushed downstairs to the kitchen to Sadie’s bed by the back door. It was empty and cold.
In the center of his kitchen, I turned in a slow circle, getting my bearings. This wasn’t a dream. I hadn’t imagined the baby’s existence. She was fine and safe and probably being watched by someone extremely trustworthy. Jared would settle for nothing else.
“She’s with your mother. So’s Sadie.”
I shifted toward his sleep-roughened voice. He slouched in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his hair a spiky, disordered crown. I went to him without thought, wrapping my arms around his waist as I tucked my face against his throat where his scent was strongest. And I settled, as if I’d never been nervous at all.
“For a minute, I thought it wasn’t real. That she’d never been here. That we didn’t have her.”
He cupped my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “She’s ours.”
The logical side of me wanted to remind him she was his. I didn’t want to get too used to the idea of anything otherwise. Not yet. Not when there was so much he didn’t know. But I only nodded.
“She’s here and she’s staying.”
I nodded again, searching his eyes. “I knew I was being silly. But I was so scared.”
“I understand being afraid. Believe me.”
“I’m okay. Really. A little out of sorts, a little achy, a lot embarrassed. But mostly fine. Every time I woke up, you were there.”
“I always will be.” His thumb slid over my cheekbone as the corner of his mouth tipped up. “I might even let you take that picture.”
Vaguely, I remembered saying something about his butt. I narrowed my eyes as I reached up to touch his head. “Did Sadie knock you over too?”
He grabbed my hand and kissed the center of my palm. “How much money do we get?”
“Macy’s entry was disqualified since we hadn’t actually hit the end zone. So, I went in with Luna to up her bet. I have to split the pot with her, but we can share my half.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “Nothing to share yet.”
I reached up to undo his buttons, nice and slow. As if we had forever.
“We look like we crashed a wedding and got thrown to the curb.” I focused on keeping my fingers steady so they didn’t shake.
Now that this was really happening, I was quivering inside and out.
In the car after Thanksgiving dinner, we’d been riding a wave of