Floored - Karla Sorensen Page 0,98

and a fuzzy white and tan rug spread along the floor. Boxes of diapers were stacked in the corner, and empty frames sat propped inside the closet in which hung a long row of small white hangers.

"It's a work in progress," I told him. "I'll get a lot of stuff at the shower today."

He stared at the crib for a few seconds, then blinked, his attention returning to me. "I love it."

"Thank you." My face warmed under his praise.

"I, uh, I have something to add to it, actually."

My head tilted, a smile spreading across my face. "You do?"

"It's in my suitcase." Gently, he took my hand, and even if it wasn't smart, I curled my fingers through his and let him lead me into the family room. I found a spot on the couch and watched him curiously when he immediately crouched in front of me. Then his fingers brushed over my ankle, and I sucked in a breath. So, so carefully, he closed the buckle on my shoes with his big fingers, allowing his palm to rest briefly on my ankle when he'd finished.

"Thank you," I whispered. Where, exactly, had my voice gone? Apparently, it flew out the window with my reserve upon seeing his face. His scruffy, exhausted, handsome face, which I wanted to grab with both hands so I could kiss the absolute shit out of him. There was something coming from him that made me feel a little bit less crazy for feeling that way.

Something in the way he was looking at me.

Something in the way he was touching me, with such care and such reverence.

Jude, for the first time since I'd met him, was looking at me like I could crush the heart in his chest if I said the wrong thing. And that was the difference, I realized, as he gave me a secretive smile before unzipping his sleek black suitcase. Shifting perfectly rolled clothes aside, he fished out a box, perfectly wrapped in gold foil wrapping paper, then another smaller one.

Taking a seat next to me, he took a deep breath before handing the smaller of the two to me. On the label, scrawled in his masculine handwriting, was my name.

"This is from Rebecca too," he admitted.

My mouth fell open. "Did she ... is this ...?" I held the box up to my nose and took a whiff. "Oh my gosh, you didn't."

Like a kid on a frickin’ Christmas Day, I tore into the present with glee, causing Jude to laugh heartily when I tossed the paper at him and ripped open the top of the box.

Scones. Beautiful, beautiful scones sat inside the box, enclosed in a plastic bag.

"As fresh as I could manage," he said. "She finished them a couple of hours before I had to leave for the airport."

I pulled one out of the bag and held it up to my nose. "Oh, I love her," I groaned. I took as delicate of a bite as I could manage since I already had my lipstick on. Eyes closed, I sank back on the couch and savored every perfectly not-fresh crumb. "My soul is so happy right now."

"It would seem so," he said, voice full of amusement.

After one more bite, I sat up, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I couldn't manage some clotted cream in there." With a smile, he watched me take another small bite and then move that box aside. When my lap was free again, he slid me the second box. On that label, it said Little Pineapple. My eyes met his, and he grinned.

With careful fingers, I pulled open the wrapping paper. It felt more important to go slow with this one, and it was almost never my instinct to go slow on anything. But as I folded the edges back, I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to create something special. Something meaningful. It was why he came earlier than he told me and why he reached out to my brother.

When I pulled the top of the lid off, three objects were wrapped in white tissue paper, one large and square, one medium and squishier looking, and one flat and small.

"Any particular order I should open these in?" I asked.

His eyes were smiling as he watched me, and I felt it in my heart.

"Left to right is fine." He pulled out his phone. "I have a video that goes with the second one."

"My goodness," I murmured, picking up the first.