I reach up, patting his shoulder. “It’s bad,” I say, “but we’ll get it all fixed. Soon, it will be just like new.”
He turns to me, glancing down at Finn. “You were here alone with him,” he chokes out. “I should’ve had a generator installed. I should’ve been here the whole time.”
“We’re fine,” I say, cupping his face in my hands, unable to believe this is who we are now. We are emerging from the wreckage, from this storm, as a couple. How on earth did that happen? In my heart, I know I shouldn’t let it happen. I should stop it. It’s wrong and will only end badly. But it feels so right to be in his arms. Maybe that’s what we are: the right side of wrong.
He glances down, saying, “You’re barefoot.”
Before I know it, he’s scooped up both me and Finn and is walking us out of the house. The glass crunches underneath his feet as he carries us outside, the sun temporarily blinding me. Why does the weather always seem to turn beautiful after a storm? Is it supposed to give us hope or something? A new way to look at things? A new beginning?
Hearing a little cry, I turn and see Catrine and Jon rushing toward us. I hold up my hand. “Catrine, please stop running. Dear God, Chewie’s liable to fall right out of you.”
Jon and Slade both start laughing, but Catrine throws her arms around us, bawling. “I was scared to death,” she says. “I saw it on the news, heading right for you. I tried to call over and over again.”
“My phone was dead,” I say, looking up at Slade. “We’re fine.”
She not-so-playfully smacks Slade in the shoulder repeatedly. “What were you thinking driving through that? You idiot.”
He chuckles as Jon encourages his wife to stop. “I was thinking about Paige and Finn,” Slade says. “Only them.”
Her entire face blossoms into a smile. “It’s about time,” she says, taking Finn from me as Slade sets me on the ground.
Deliberately, he runs his fingers over me, examining the cuts and bruises on my skin. “Jon, can you make sure emergency services is sending an ambulance?”
Trying to get up, but for the first time feeling the soreness in my body, I say, “I don’t need an ambulance.”
“No offense, honey,” Catrine says, “but you look like death warmed over.”
Slade kneels in front of me. “I want both of you checked out.”
“But I want to help clean up and check on the horses and . . .”
“And you’re going to the hospital,” Slade says. “Nothing is getting cleaned up today. And I’ll make sure the horses are alright.”
Slade wouldn’t let Finn and me out of his sight all day. It’s sweet and a bit over the top for a girl who’s used to taking care of herself. I dodged a trip to the hospital after a head-to-toe examination by the paramedics, who agreed with me that a hospital trip was overkill.
Finally, I manage to slip away for a second, leaving Finn outside with Catrine. Walking through the house, seeing the damage, I realize how much this place had been home to me. Probably more of a home than I’d ever known before. My eyes fill with tears as I walk through the destruction. It could’ve been a lot worse, but it’s still hard to see. Finn’s little high chair is on the ground covered in water and debris, his playpen a tangled-up mess.
I walk to our room, pushing open the door. It’s perfectly preserved, but the house is uninhabitable. I reach into my closet for a bag and start to pack a few things, forming a plan in my mind.
“I’ll have Finn’s crib moved to my place in the city,” Slade says, leaning against the doorway.
That was not a part of my plan. “That’s incredibly sweet, but there’s a hotel not far from here. We should stay there. That way, I’ll be close to the house when renovations start.”
He smirks at me. “I thought you might suggest a family member, but not a hotel.”
“There’s no one,” I say.
“There’s me,” he says.
“I’m not moving into your place in the city.”
“Why not?” he asks. “We’ve stayed together plenty of nights here.”
“That was before.”
“Before this,” he says, his lips softly landing on mine.
“Yes,” I whisper, breathless.
“What if I said I won’t take no for an answer?”
“I’d say that if you’re going to be with me, you better learn to like the word no.”
He laughs, and it’s beautiful. “Then I’ll rent the hotel room next door to yours.”
And I know that’s true. He would completely do something like that. “Slade, we’ve been . . .” I’m not sure what to call it—Dating? Together? Seeing each other?
“Paige, if you want a nice, normal relationship where the guy picks you up, and you kiss good night at the door, then you should know that’s not me. I’ve been holding back with you for too long to live like that. I only know one way to be with you. And that’s by giving you everything.”
My breath catches in my throat. This is drive through the night, putting your life on the line for each other kind of stuff. Extreme, intense, and scary. “It feels too fast.”
“It’s the only speed I know,” he says, flashing me a naughty smile. Then he reaches for my hand. “Just stay tonight. Give me one night. We should have more information on the repairs to the house tomorrow.” He shakes my hand a little. “I’ll be a good boy, and I’ll eat green shit at every meal.”
*
I look back at Finn in his car seat. He’s still rear-facing, so all I can see are his little feet kicking. He seems unfazed by last night and by our new move.
Slade’s holding my hand as he drives. It’s a small thing, but it feels big. He spots me staring down at our intertwined fingers and gives my hand a little squeeze as the sights of Nashville pass by. This is lightyears away from where I used to live. Music row, Vanderbilt, and the Gulch are areas I always dreamed about.
Slade’s penthouse condo is in one of the newer developments in downtown Nashville. It’s sleek, modern, and doesn’t look like one inch of this place is babyproofed. Slade uses a key card to access the private parking garage, pulling into his reserved spot. He takes Finn’s carrier, guiding us through some doors to the immaculate lobby, with marble floors, a chandelier, and a front desk clerk on duty, who simply gives Slade a nod, obviously recognizing him.
“Do any kids live here?” I ask as he pushes the button on the elevator.
“Not that I know of,” he says.
We step onto the elevator, rising all the way to the top floor. His is the only door on this floor. Slade opens the door, tossing his keys on a side table before taking my hand and leading me inside. The man likes his windows. There’s a wide-open view of the skyline of Nashville through the windows in the den and a balcony with a hot tub. It’s dark out now, so the lights of the city provide the backdrop.
He places Finn’s carrier down, starting to unstrap him. “The office is through there,” he says, pointing at an open doorway to the left. “Guest bathroom over there. And the kitchen is right through that doorway. No dining room. Bedrooms are all upstairs.”