Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,86

thought they knew how I felt or what was best for me. My upper lip twitched. “I am fine. F-I-N-E fine.”

“Have you considered therapy, Cole?”

“I don’t need therapy.” At my sides, my hands began to tremble, and I crossed my arms, shoving them in my armpits.

“I don’t see adults, but I’d be happy to—”

“I said, I don’t need therapy. And I’ve taken up enough of your time,” I announced abruptly, heading for the door. “Sorry for yelling that way.”

“Cole, please. Let me help you.”

But I didn’t want her help. I didn’t need her help.

What the hell was the matter with me, barging into her office like that?

I was fine.

In fact, I was more than fine. I was crazy in love with a beautiful, sweet, sexy woman I’d known almost all my life. My daughter loved her. My mother loved her. Her mother loved me. Her brother was my best friend.

Everything was perfect.

And just because there was nothing standing in the way of me being completely happy for the rest of my life didn’t mean something terrible was sneaking up behind me.

That shadow was nothing.

I could ignore it.

Twenty-Two

Cheyenne

On Monday morning Mariah popped her head into my classroom before school while I was restocking the pencil trays on each kindergarten table.

“Hi, Miss Cheyenne!”

“Good morning, Mariah! How was your weekend?” Since Cole had worked Saturday and Sunday, we hadn’t gotten a chance to hang out, although we’d talked on the phone both nights for hours. Going to sleep after hearing him say I love you had brought the sweetest dreams I’d ever had.

“It was good,” she said enthusiastically. “My dad took me skating on Friday and he told me about you guys.”

I nodded, perching on the edge of a table. “That’s what he said.”

“I told him about the kind of love you were looking for.” She sighed and shook her head. “Hopefully, he was listening.”

“I’m sure he was,” I said, hiding a smile. “Thank you.”

“I hope you guys get married,” she went on, her eyes lighting up. “And then you can have a baby. I told him I wanted a little sister, not a little brother, but I guess I’d be okay with a little brother too.”

“Oh—oh my.” I put a hand over my stomach. “Well, we haven’t really talked about that yet.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I’m just really excited.”

Two more girls entered my classroom—I recognized them as former students, now fourth graders like Mariah. I stood up and smiled. “Good morning, girls.”

“Good morning, Miss Dempsey,” they recited together.

“You coming, Mariah?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” she said. Then she threw her arms around me. “Have a good day, Miss Cheyenne.”

I patted her shoulder. “You too, sweetie.”

Then she rushed out, saying to her friends, “She’s my dad’s girlfriend now. They’re probably gonna get married.”

“Lucky!” one of them replied.

I laughed, but it was easy for me to see how Cole might have suffered a bit from whiplash if he’d been expecting any objections from her. She clearly had none.

While I was eating lunch at my desk, I got a text from him.

Cole: Run away with me.

Me: Right now?

Cole: Yes. To the new house. I have the key for a few hours.

Me: I can’t get there until four at the soonest.

Cole: But Moretti will be here by then, and you’ll want to have your clothes back on.

Me: That is a definite yes. But I’d still love to come by after school.

Cole: Do it.

He gave me the address and I told him I’d be there by four o’clock. Then I asked him if he wanted me to bring Mariah along.

My phone vibrated with a call from him, and I answered it.

“Hey,” I said. “I just have a few minutes before the kids come in from recess.”

“No fair, they get you all day.”

I laughed. “So should I bring Mariah with me to the house?”

“I’m sure she’d love that. I’ll let my mom know she won’t be on the bus and call the school as well. They’ll get a note to her to go to your classroom after the bell. Does that work?”

“That’s perfect. We’ll see you at four.”

“Can’t wait. I love you.”

I smiled, knowing I would never get tired of hearing him say those words, or saying them back. “I love you too.”

After school, Mariah came to my room and we headed over to the new house. She babbled nonstop on the drive about how excited she was to move in, what color she might paint her room, and the bunk beds her dad had let her pick