“But they’ll make you choose.”
“And I’ll choose you. The same decision I would have made two years ago if I had been given the option.” He cups my cheek, and I lean into his warm caress. “This is our fight. Together. We will hit some hurdles, I can’t deny that, but I want to be a family. Nothing matters more than that.”
I fight to conceal my worry. His promises are comforting, but they’re only a blanket to cover the truth of what happens when his family finds out. And I hate that for us all. I smile, knowing he sees the unease in my eyes. “All right.”
Bria takes this moment to make explicit noises in her diaper. “Well then, it’s settled. We’re going to clean whatever bomb she just detonated, and then we’re venturing out.” He offers me a quick kiss and a reassuring smile and starts babbling to Bria as he battles the blowout.
Leaving the house ends up being a great idea. Jake takes us to lunch, and this time, I don’t run away when he brings us back to the Italian place. Francisco is happy to see us and fawns all over Bria. When I swear Jake will have to roll me out if I eat another bite, we say our goodbyes and leave.
The sidewalk is crammed with the midday lunch crowds. Jake tucks me to his side as I push Bria in her stroller. He slows and stops suddenly in front of a huge department store. “What?” I ask, curious what’s caught his attention.
“Now, hear me out. What would you say if we bought a few things for you and Bria to stay at my place? I know it’s rushing,” he spits out, “but I don’t want to be apart any more than we have to, and my place is close to the hospital. We can maybe stay there when I have shifts and go back and forth until we find something…more permanent.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, suddenly nervous.
“What do you mean by permanent? Like, live together?” I know exactly what he means, but I’m enjoying giving him a hard time.
“Well…yeah, ya know…live together. Like a family. Willa, I want to make this work. I’ll fight. I’ll do anything. I’ll—”
“Jake.”
“What?”
“I’m messing with you. I know what you’re asking. And I’d like that. We both would.” I can’t help but smile wide at how nervous he looks. It’s cute and—
“Ouch!” I half chuckle, half groan when he smacks my ass. An old couple walking by gawks at us, and Jake pulls me into his arms.
“I’m going to make you happy, Willa. I promise you.” He kisses me without a care that we’re in the middle of a busy sidewalk. When he pulls away, I’m extra light on my feet. “Now, let’s go in and get a few things for my girls.”
“Jake, you said a few—”
“Necessities, babe.”
My mouth falls to the ground when the cashier reads off the total. “Jake.” He didn’t buy necessities; he practically bought out the entire baby section. He hands her his gold card, and with one swipe, he’s thanking the lady and shuffling out with a million bags.
“Why did you buy a car seat when neither of us owns a car?”
“When you go back and forth, I don’t want you taking the subway. I’m going to hire a driver for you and Bria.”
“Oh, that’s just insane.”
“No, it’s protecting my family. If I can’t be there with you, I want to know you’re safe. Don’t fight me on this one.” His tone is pleading. I let it go because it does get unsafe on the subway—not that I’ve had to bring Bria out of the house since we’ve moved here.
“Fine, but I’m pretty sure all those stuffed animals are a bit much.”
He shrugs. “I asked her if she wanted them. Said smile if it’s a yes. She did.”
I shake my head. “She smiled for almost thirty minutes straight. She needs a whole room just for these darn animals!” I shake my head on the way to the exit and find a car waiting for us.
“Mr. DuPont.”
“Good evening. We’re headed to my condo. If you could take these things, a driver will be by later with the rest.”
“Yes, sir.”
The gentleman takes the bags, barely able to grab them all, while Jake installs the car seat. He folds up the stroller, and I settle Bria in, then climb in, the smell of new leather assaulting my senses. The last time I was in a fancy town car was the drive to the nunnery. I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing out the memory.
“You okay?” Jake asks, sliding into the car. The driver pulls into traffic, and I sit back, taking long, deep breaths.
“Yeah. I’m fine. So, where exactly are you living? Or dare I ask?” He looks away as if embarrassed to admit. “Jake, I was cut off, not you. It doesn’t change what I think.”
“The Cornerstone.” I almost choke on my saliva. Of course. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t pick it. The living situation was arranged for me.”
We fall silent, listening to Bria babble in her seat. She becomes fascinated with the busy sidewalk outside and the bursting of streetlights going on as the sun goes down. Every so often, she claps her hands and bounces in glee.
We arrive at Jake’s condo, and he carries a smiling Bria in his arms. We take the elevator to the top floor, and he guides me inside. His condo is impeccable. Sleek and modern. The best money can buy, but I didn’t think it would be anything less. I stare off at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, wondering how spectacular the skyline will look through the messy glass when Bria gets her tiny fingerprints all over them.
“Come on. Let’s get you and Bria settled.” Jake orders food, and we put together the crib while we eat. Bria falls asleep the second we lay her down. We quietly shut off the light, crack the door, and walk out into the hallway.
A squeal escapes my lips when I’m suddenly scooped into Jake’s arms. He carries me halfway down the hall and pushes open the door to his lavish bedroom. An enormous bed made for a king greets us, and I yelp when he tosses me on top of his feathered comforter.
“I miss that sound,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt.
My heart races at the beautiful sight of his toned chest. “What sound is that?”
“Your little squeals. When I used to toss you in the pool or chase you, you would always make these cute little squeals. Sometimes I had to hold off on catching you because I was worried about what I would do if I did.”
I sit up on my elbows, continuing to admire his naked chest while he works off his pants. “And what exactly would you have done?” I ask, biting my lower lip.
“Oh, it depends. When you were twelve, I wanted to pull your hair. When you were fourteen, I wanted to see if your boobs were real or if you were stuffing. At sixteen, I wanted to drag you behind the guest house and kiss those pink lips. By seventeen…well, I wanted to do a lot of things to you. Very, very inappropriate things.”
I can’t help but snicker at his confession. I remember once when we were goofing around in the pool playing Marco Polo. I was seventeen.
“Don’t forget, only three feet circumference.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you have longer arms than me. You can reach out and snag me at any time.”
“Sounds perfect. Fine, four feet. If I catch you, you have to watch the entire Nightmare on Elm Street marathon with me.”