Me: Riles and my boy are moving in. I need help with the nursery at my place and moving her—free beer and eats.
Jake: I’m in.
Bruce: Took you long enough.
Brett: When?
Me: This weekend?
All three reply with one single word. Done. Satisfied, I slide my phone back into my pocket. “The guys are coming over this weekend to help us move everything. Let’s go get our boy, or we can leave him with Mom. I don’t care what we do, but we’re going to get paint for his room.”
“Just like that?” She smiles.
“Just like that.” I kiss her before lacing our fingers together and leading her outside to my truck.
I’ve wanted to ask her to move in with me for a while, and I’m glad I didn’t ask her right away. I think she’s ready to take the next step. Something tells me that the next time that I ask her, she’s going to agree to marry me, and all will be right in the world, at least in mine.
CHAPTER 27
Riley
“Something tells me that last night was our last night to stay at my place,” I say, falling back onto the couch at Hudson’s place.
“This is your home.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know that this is your home. Change it, paint it, add all the girly pillows. I don’t care what you do as long as this is the place you and our son call home.”
“Hudson Fleming, who would have known you were such a smooth talker,” I tease.
“Only with you, baby. Now, speaking of babies. I’m going to go pick Hayes up from my parents. You can sit here and chill or start unpacking.”
“You’re a packing machine. It was supposed to be a night.” I look around at the multiple boxes and suitcases that litter the living room.
“Yeah, well, I’m not giving you the chance to change your mind. I can help when I get back, or the boxes can stay there for all I care. As long as you two are sleeping under this roof, I’m happy.” He stands, comes to lean over where I’m sitting on the couch, and kisses me softly.
“You want me to come with you?”
“Nah, I’ll be right back.” One more sweet kiss, and he’s out the door.
I look at all the boxes and suitcases, and even though I’m exhausted, there’s this excitement that races through my veins, knowing that as soon as I unpack, my things will be mixed with his.
Standing, I grab a suitcase handle for each hand and roll them down the hall to the master bedroom. I don’t really know where I’m supposed to put my things. I pull open the double dresser and find an empty drawer. I open the rest of the drawers, and they’re all empty. When I go to the other side, they’re full of his things.
With tears in my eyes, I survey the room. The right side of the bed is clearly his. It’s easy to tell because he sleeps on that side at my place too, but it’s the image of the three of us, one his mom took a few weeks ago when we were visiting that tells me for sure that’s the side he’s been sleeping on. It sits in a frame on the nightstand on that side of the bed.
That’s when I realize there are two chest dressers, one on each side of the room. Walking to the one on the right, I pull open the drawer and find it full of his things. My heart hammers in my chest as I make my way to the left side of the room and pull open the drawer.
It’s empty.
And my heart is full.
I already know there are his-and-her closets, and he’s told me at least three times today that mine is ready to be filled, but I didn’t expect this. Suddenly, I can’t be unpacked fast enough. I’m rushing, not even bothering to refold my clothes. I can do that later. I just need to fill the empty spaces he’s left open for me. In a matter of no time, I have both suitcases unpacked and in the bottom of my closet.
Rushing back to the living room, I stack two laundry baskets full of clothes, blankets, and diapers and drop them into one of the spare bedrooms. There is no point in putting them in the room that will be our son’s because it still needs to be painted.
By the time Hudson comes home, I have just torn down the last box. “Wow,” he says, walking into the room with Hayes in his arms.
I rush over and take our boy from him. “I thought you got lost.”
“Mom insisted on packing up leftovers for us to have for dinner. I told her she didn’t have to, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“That was sweet of her.”
“It was. Are you seriously unpacked?”
“Yes. Well, everything but this little guy. I figured that could wait until we paint.”
“Bruce called while I was at my parents’. He’s off tomorrow, and he’s going to stop by. We’re going to knock the painting out, so it has time to dry, and by the time we move his furniture this weekend, he will be set.”
“Perfect.”
“You found your drawers?” he asks.
“Yeah. When did you do that?”
“When I moved in. I knew I wanted a life with you. It hit me hard when I was buying the furniture. I tried to pick something I thought you would love.”
“You did that over a year ago.”
“I know.”
“Took you long enough to make a move, Fleming.” I bite down on my cheek to keep from smiling, and hell, maybe even to keep from crying. This man… the way he loves us is life altering.
“Hey, you weren’t exactly throwing off the ‘take me’ signals,” he says, snaking an arm around my waist. “But I had hope, Riles. Hope that one day I would get up the nerve to make my move. I’m glad I did. I’m glad we are where we are, and I’m grateful for our son.”
“Feed me, baby daddy,” I say when my stomach rumbles.
“That title is going to change real soon, Riles.” He kisses my cheek and releases me. “I’ll warm up dinner. You relax.”
“Sounds good.” I follow him out to the open living space and take a seat on the couch. Just as I sit, I see another box by the door. “Ugh.”
“What?”
“I missed one.” I look down at my son. “How about Mommy lets you lay on your comfy blanket and stretch out while I check out this last box.” I spread a couple of blankets out on the floor and settle him on his back. He coos and waves his hands around. He’s growing up so fast.
Once I have Hayes settled, I head to the door where the last box sits. I don’t remember packing it, so it must have been Hudson. When I pick up the box, I see a shipping label. “Babe, this is yours. I think it was the package that was on the front porch earlier.”
“Who’s it from?” he asks, sliding a casserole dish into the oven.
“Wait, I thought your mom sent leftovers?” I ask.
“She did. All of them. I told her it was too much, but you know how Mom is. I thought it would be easier to just heat it up in the oven.”
“Got ya.” I look down at the package. “It’s from Clay.” I smile at him.
“Really? Open it. I don’t know what he would be sending me.”
Peeking on Hayes, who is fighting to keep his eyes open, I set the box on the island and pull open a drawer to find the scissors. Cutting open the box, I see a plain white envelope with Hudson’s name scrawled across it and what looks like a few other pieces of mail and “Is this a journal?” I ask him. When he doesn’t answer, I turn to look at him, and he’s watching me.