Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,200

a matter of days. Also, the first preseason game was next week and Jennifer got more pregnant every day. He was running out of time, and having this unresolved between them was driving him crazy.

Ever since he’d met her, the restlessness in his spirit had started to settle, like an albatross who’d flown ten thousand miles finally gliding in for a landing and folding its tired wings. For the first time, he wanted to go home at the end of the day, and for the first time, he wanted to know somebody he loved would be there when he did.

This was the downside of caring, though. Or call it what it was. Of loving. That you put your heart on the line.

Then put it there, he told himself. All the way. You can’t make the catch if you don’t jump for it. And said, “Come on. One more thing to show you. We’ll take the fancy stairs this time.”

Not into the living room now. Down the hall and into the master bedroom, a serene place with huge mullioned windows on two sides, looking out on the vineyards, the hills, and Mt. Hood in the distance.

“Check out the bathroom,” Dyma said, as if she’d noticed how subdued Jennifer had become. “Soaking tub of your dreams, Mom. I wouldn’t call this bathroom eco-friendly, because it must have taken a whole quarry full of marble, but it’s as beautiful as a spa. Also a walk-in closet that’s as big as my bedroom upstairs. Annabelle and I decided the master bathroom is the coolest thing about the house. Except the game room, because the game room’s going to be amazing. And the pool. And maybe the basketball court.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jennifer said. “It’s a great house.”

Everybody else was silent. Looking at each other, telegraphing awkwardness. Telegraphing a desire to be anywhere else.

Harlan thought, One more try. He said, “There are two offices down here. I figured, who needs two? I thought …” He opened the door. And held his breath.

It was a nursery. A beautiful one, all serenity. A simple white crib, a dresser with a changing-table top, and a white wicker rocking chair in the corner, complete with padded footstool. A pastel-striped rug, and a white wicker bassinette with a canopy.

Harlan said, “This is what I was doing when I said I was playing golf. I put together the crib, and Owen and the girls hauled the rest. I’ve been keeping it all at Owen’s place. I just got the keys today, because there were some glitches at the end, so we had to throw the nursery together fast to have it ready for you. The wicker rocking chair is the kind my mom had, and I thought …”

When he’d thought about saying this with everybody listening, he’d imagined a more receptive audience.

Do it. “I thought about you rocking in it, feeding our baby,” he said, and to his horror, he’d choked up. “And it felt right. But not just because of the baby. The baby is just what made me see what I wanted. What I needed. What I’ve been missing. And it’s you. When I saw this house, I thought … this is us. This is how forever feels. Room for a family, the whole family we’ve got together. Dyma and Annabelle and Nick and anybody else who comes along. Room to put up a play structure in the yard, and with the kind of breakfast nook that makes you want to hang out with your coffee in the morning before you kiss your wife goodbye. Room for a whole life. The real kind. The kind you can count on forever.”

He was getting something else now, because her hands were at her lips, and her eyes were filling with tears. He opened the top dresser drawer, pulled out the blue velvet box, and opened the lid. And then he got down on one knee and took her hand.

“I did this twice before,” he told her. “Once exactly wrong. I couldn’t believe I’d blurted that out and made you cry, but I think now that I must have known it was right. Seems like my head’s been behind my heart this whole time. When you saw those wolves in Yellowstone, and you said that white wolf had my eyes, and he stared at you and made you turn around and kept you safe. When I heard those great horned owls calling to each other that same night, and I thought about my mom