Closing her eyes, Meredith sat on the edge of her bed and waited for the bout of nausea to subside. Within days of learning she was pregnant, the morning sickness had begun with a vengeance, as if her body had patiently waited for her brain to be let in on the secret. She’d already started carrying saltine crackers and peppermints in her purse, because she’d also quickly discovered that “morning” sickness really meant “sick all the darn time, so get used to it.”
A lot had happened in the last ten days since she’d told Liam they were having a baby. The job had come through, so she was once again gainfully employed. On her own merits. She had that initial flush of satisfaction, that she’d done what she’d set out to do, proven to herself that she didn’t require her father’s name or input to locate a good job.
And yes, that had felt empowering. Fulfilling.
In the end, though, she discovered that she’d always known that about herself. Always. Which was yet another powerful realization, though one she wished she’d come to earlier. It might have saved her a lot of angst over the years, that knowing. She knew now, and she supposed that was more than good enough. Better now than later, right?
She didn’t start her new job for another ten days, but that worked out just fine. That gave her time to start scouting for an apartment, plan for her return to San Francisco to pack and empty her former apartment and see her family. Make those final amends with her dad.
Tell him and the rest of her family that she was pregnant.
Initially, there would be reservations on her parents’ part, she knew. They would want her to move home, so they could take care of all that would need to be taken care of. But no. She’d keep her ground, she’d thank them for their support and she’d return here to her new home. Steamboat Springs, Colorado, where she would raise her child.
With Liam? Well, in one way, yes. He’d be here for their son or daughter, she had zero doubt. But that was it.
All that would exist between them was the shared, unconditional love for the baby they created. There wouldn’t be anything more. His walls were too thick, too sturdily built, and the force between them—as strong as it was—wouldn’t break through.
The look on his face when she’d told him she was pregnant would forever live in her memory. It was one of intense pain. Loss. And in that moment, she understood more about the man than she ever had before. Somewhere in that amazing heart of his, he might love her...or have the stirrings of love, the beginnings of what she already felt so strongly.
She just didn’t think he was ready, would never be able to get himself there, to latch onto that seed and let it grow. Not with the loss he so obviously still fought, existed with, and she couldn’t blame him or pretend she knew what that felt like. Walking around, day in and day out, after losing what he had? No. The strength, the courage he’d had to wrap around himself to just breathe was likely more than she’d ever had to gather.
Even more than she’d had to when she was lost and desperate in a storm.
Nothing could compare. And she hoped to God she’d never experience what Liam had, almost as much as she hoped he’d never face anything similar again for the rest of his life.
When she’d left his house that day, the only thought in her mind was to run. Far and fast, before the pain of his expression burned into her soul and never let go.
Her heart heavy, she’d driven to Rachel’s and considered her options. She wanted to run. Wanted to return to San Francisco and give up on this idea of a life of her own making. Wanted to hide.
By the time she reached Rachel’s, however, she knew she’d live up to what she’d told Liam: that she would be here, when he returned, so they could talk. He would always be able to find her, not only because of their child, but because...well, that was how it should be. What was supposed to be. She knew this, even if he didn’t. Even if he never reached that conclusion.
As the days continued to pass, the tiny amount of hope that remained drained into nothingness. And oh, she mourned the loss. Not the loss of what could have been, but the loss of what never was...would never be.
The pain on Liam’s face, in his eyes, was too deep, too severe for a man to come back from. Her dream was merely that: a dream. A glimpse, she supposed, of what life could be like with the right person, the right type of love, the right foundation.
It just wouldn’t be a life she would have with Liam.
But at least she knew what to aim for someday down the road, when the hold Liam had on her heart let go and set her free. Might be years. The baby who grew inside her might very well be married and have a child of their own by the time that occurred. If it ever would.
If it ever could.
He’d be home in just a few days now. She would drive to his house in the mountains, and they would talk.
The conversation would surround the financial responsibilities, she was sure, along with more promises to take care of her, of their child. Maybe they’d discuss if he’d go to obstetrician appointments with her, if he could be there for the birth and if he was thinking far enough ahead, they might delve into how they would parent, visitation, the baby’s last name.
Or they might simply sit and look at each other, with that heavy air choking them, so neither could breathe, let alone speak in complete sentences.
One of the two. Or both, in intermittent gaps.
The only rule she had was to tuck her emotions down deep, so they remained under wraps, to remain stoic and logical and keep her focus on the reason for their conversation: the life they were bringing into this world. How they would do that together without being together.
Meredith’s hand went to her stomach. A baby. Joy existed there, growing inside of her, alive and strong and beautiful.
This was her future. Joy and beauty, and her choice was to revel in that truth, what would be, instead of wish for what would never be.
* * *
Sweat beaded on the back of Liam’s neck. He looked over at the clock, saw that the minutes were ticking away and he wasn’t ready yet.
Everything had to be perfect for when Meredith arrived. He had to be perfect. So she could see that the time away had done what was needed: gave Liam clarity, allowed him to separate crippling fear from true, unadulterated hope and determine the stronger of the two.
In those first awful days, it seemed that fear would be the champion. Whenever he considered opening his heart more to Meredith, to that life he yearned for, he just couldn’t see beyond his past to get to the hope. And hell, the last thing he would ever do was drag Meredith down a path that he couldn’t believe in, couldn’t be sure he’d be able to travel.
But on day eight, just as he’d reached the decision to remain in his comfortable solitary existence—save for being there for his child, of course—an epiphany had occurred. In the form of three colorful birds, rainbow lorikeets. They were gorgeous creatures, with bright red beaks and exotically hued plumage that included their green wings and tails, blue-to-purple heads and the vivid yellow-orange that circled their necks and dripped down to their breasts.
And just like before, with the paradise tanagers in the Amazon Basin when Christy was pregnant and awaiting his return, these three birds perched on a branch, huddled close together.
A family. Bright and happy and so beautiful to see that it took his breath away. His heart had ramped up to the speed of a runner about to win a marathon, and he waited for these birds to startle and fly off, just as the paradise tanagers had the second he’d snapped their photograph.
But the lorikeets didn’t startle or fly off. They watched him boldly, without fear, and remained steadfast on their branch. In their life with each other. As if to state that nothing, not even a man that didn’t belong in their world, could chase them off from where they wanted to be, had chosen to be. A grandiose thought, perhaps, but it resonated just the same.
The similarities between the past scene with the paradise tanagers and the present with the rainbow lorikeets were there and couldn’t be denied.
Three colorful birds. A branch. That same feeling of belonging together, looking out for one another, as a family should. All that existed, yes, but they were different birds perched on a different branch in a different location.
More than anything else, though, the time was different.
And these birds? They hadn’t disappeared in a flutter of wings, rushing off to find a new branch, a safer branch to perch on. They’d stayed. They weren’t going anywhere.
Silly, probably, that it took three birds to wake Liam the hell up, but wake him up they did.
So very much came into perspective. So very much clicked into place. Obvious conclusions. Most of which he’d known all along but hadn’t allowed to gain a foothold.
Christy and Meredith were two different women. The love he felt for Christy was real and solid and would’ve lasted a lifetime. He was sure of that. They would’ve been happy. His love for Meredith—because, yes, he did love her, he knew this now without any doubt—was also real and solid and he believed to his soul that it could also last a lifetime.
But different women meant that love altered some, too. It meant the life he would have had with Christy if she hadn’t died would also be different than the one he could have with Meredith. Had to be. He had changed. That loss had altered how he viewed pretty much everything. Before, he’d chosen seclusion to shield himself from facing that type of hurt again. Now, due to an epiphany brought on by three steadfast birds, he understood what he hadn’t before.
What he most needed to understand.
Yes, losing Christy and his child had given him a front-row view of how precious life was. But rather than hide from more loss, he should be using that awareness to grab on and go for every bit of happiness—of joy—he could. He should be steadfast and sure, refuse to let go and cherish every damn second of good. And hell, Goldi was pure good.
She was light and love and hope. She’d swept in out of nowhere and stolen his heart.
And now she was having his baby. Some would call this a second chance, but Liam...well, again, two different women. Two different lifetimes. Any of the blessings that existed with Meredith weren’t his “second chance,” they were his everything. They were his present. He hoped his future.
Today, he was going to jump in up to his eyeballs and pour himself into that everything. His shields, his want for seclusion, were gone. She might reject him, might reject all he now saw and was ready to grab onto, and yup, that thought rightly scared him. But it was not going to send him running, nor would that possibility change his mind. He was in.
He just hoped she’d listen. Give him a chance. Give them a chance.
The rumble of her car in the driveway brought him to his senses and that sweat on the back of his neck doubled. No, tripled. But that was fine. He should be nervous.
This was life. He wanted to feel it all.
When he drove into Steamboat Springs this morning, he’d stopped by the jewelry store before picking up Max and Maggie. Had looked for and chosen a ring. Some would say he was moving too fast, but frankly, he felt as if he’d already waited, had gotten stuck in the mud of his fears, for too damn long. So, yeah, he was set on changing that dynamic.
No more waiting. No more getting stuck.
The ring box was in his pocket. The fire in the fireplace burned softly, gently. His dogs were snoozing by the fire after romping outside for close to an hour. It wasn’t the most romantic of scenes, but it was what he had, and he figured Meredith—Goldi—would approve. This room was, after all, the very first place they’d ever laid eyes on one another. Seemed fitting.
Hopeful. Possibly joyous.
The knock on the front door came, rousing his dogs, both of whom lifted their heads and looked at Liam in such a way that he would swear they were telling him not to screw this up. That Goldi was theirs, too, and it was about time he brought her home.
“Tell you what, guys,” he said. “If I screw this up, you can go with her. I’ll visit a lot, don’t you worry, but I won’t keep her from you. Deal?”
Now the look they gave him could only be described as pity. Max growled low in his throat, and Maggie whined. Well. They didn’t like that idea any more than they enjoyed being with him without Goldi. Seemed they wanted it all, just as he did.
“I’ll give it my best shot,” he said, just as Goldi knocked for the second time. His stomach turned over and his legs held the consistency of a bowl of jelly. Pitiful. But glorious, too, that this woman could do this and so much more to him, for him. He went to the door and after sending a silent prayer upward, opened it. And there she was.
The woman he loved.
“Hey, there,” he said, holding the door open wider and doing his level best to ignore the swarming of bees—couldn’t be butterflies—in his gut. She wore her hair long and loose, her eyes were bright and that smile...he lived for that smile. “Come on in. I...how was the drive?”
“I didn’t get lost, so there’s that.” She walked in and unzipped her coat, which she handed to him. Her voice, calm and cool and modulated, told him a lot. Told him she was hurting beneath her collected, easy-breezy facade, and he hated that he’d put her in such a place. “How was your trip?” she asked. “Did you get everything you needed?”
“I did. More than I expected.” He hung her coat in the closet. “It was the best trip I’ve had, ever. I...got more than I hoped for. More than I thought possible.” And because he did not want her to continue to think he was referring to his job, to the photographs he went to Australia to shoot, he said, “I thought about us. Constantly, Goldi. And...well, I’m so glad you’re here.”
She blinked. Nodded. “I thought a lot about us, too. Every day.”
“Well then, I’d say we each have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes. We do.” A sigh teased from her lungs, and her shoulders shook just a little. “I’m glad I’m here, too, Liam. Happy to see you. It seems like I haven’t in...forever.”
“I know. Me, too.” There was so much he needed to say that the words were all but fighting each other to come out. But not yet. Holding out his hand, he waited for her to take hold. When she did, he said, “Come with me. Let’s sit down and have that conversation.”
They moved into the living room, and he assumed she’d sit on the couch, but she didn’t. She didn’t sit anywhere, just stood in front of the fire, holding his hand for dear life.
Her chin trembled and she shifted her gaze away from his to stare at the floor. She was nervous. Scared, maybe, of what he would say. And while he’d wanted to ease her into the moment, into sharing all that he saw for them, he now believed that would be a mistake.
She looked like those paradise tanagers. A second away from startling. A second away from flying into the sky and leaving him alone, watching her departure. Wishing she’d return.
And his Goldi wasn’t a paradise tanager. She was a rainbow lorikeet, even if she didn’t yet know that. So. Whether it was the right time or the wrong time, he let go of her hand to reach into his pocket. Felt for the ring box to assure himself it was still there and then...he threw caution and common sense and logic and every last one of his useless fears into the wind.
And he knelt in front of Goldi. Took her hand again and, ignoring the buzzing bees in his stomach that refused to settle, said, “I meant to do this differently. I meant to explain everything I’ve realized and why. I meant to turn on some music, so you could hear ABBA. I meant to be...ah...clear and eloquent, maybe a little romantic, but I can’t wait.”
Those blue eyes of hers narrowed and a shiver, long and loose, ran through her from head to toe. “If you’re about to do what I think, then you should probably stop,” she said, her words wobbly. “I don’t want a marriage of convenience. I don’t want you to think you have to marry me out of some form of responsibility, to ease your conscience. I... I...”
Her words disappeared into the air, but she didn’t let go and she didn’t look away.
That bolstered his hope, despite what she’d said. And of course, she would think that was what this was about. Of course she would. Well, Liam would have to change that mindset.
Pronto. “Close your eyes for me, Goldi, so you can really listen to my voice as I talk,” he said, operating on pure instinct. “The first time you heard my voice, your eyes were closed and you had that dream. The one you still haven’t told me about, but based on the little you said, I believe it was an incredible dream. About us. Am I correct in that belief?”
Moisture filled her eyes. “Yes. It was incredible and it was about us.”
“Okay, then. Close your eyes, darlin’, and let me talk. Listen. And see if you can hear the truth in my voice without any other distractions.” He paused for a few seconds, mostly to try to find the words he would say, now that the moment was here. “Can you do that for me?”
She breathed in and nodded. “I can.”
Max and Maggie, who hadn’t yet greeted her, padded to her from the fireplace, standing sentry, one on each side. Even in this moment, one with so much riding on the outcome, he was amused by their stance. As much as they were Liam’s dogs, Goldi belonged to them.
And they weren’t going to let her fall.
Their presence seemed to offer her a sense of comfort. She closed her eyes, he tightened his hold on her hand and while he hadn’t yet chosen the exact words to say, he decided to let his emotions lead his tongue. And he started with the most emotional of them all.
“I love you, Goldi. I do. And I have for what feels like forever, for far longer than the actual time we’ve known each other. So, I can’t define when this love began or when it became so big that it could no longer be ignored. I just know, with every bone in my body, that I am in love with you. Completely.”
Another breath, this one larger than the last, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t open her eyes. Just stood there, holding on to him, in...well, trust was there. Belief of some sort. And perhaps she had the same hope he did. He wouldn’t know unless he kept talking.
“But see, even though I recognized this fact, that I love you, I wasn’t ready to do anything with it, wasn’t even ready to admit it to myself. I was edging in the right direction, but I think...no, I know, I would’ve proceeded slowly. With caution. But I was getting there.”
“You started opening up to me, about your life,” she said softly, eyes still closed. “So, I thought so. Wondered. But I didn’t know for sure. I...just didn’t.”
“How could you?” His turn to breathe. The bees were still there, but not quite as many and not quite as strong. “When you came here to tell me about the baby, I...and it shames me to admit this, Goldi, but I got scared. Because you were already so important in my life, and you’d already chiseled into my shields. Add in a baby and the past seemed to be repeating itself.”
“I get why you were scared. I have been scared, too.”
That pained him incredibly, to hear her say this. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. So damn sorry I couldn’t see the past from the present, couldn’t stop them from merging together. I just didn’t have the ability to do so in that moment, but I wish I had. I wish I could go back and—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said quickly, her words running together. “It was a shock for both of us, and you were still good to me, Liam. Still calm and patient. You just weren’t ready to dive in deep, and I don’t know if I was, either. Not really.”
“I’m still sorry. Forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said, as stubborn as always. God, he loved that about her, too, that she didn’t back down. That she held her ground. “Can I open my eyes yet?”
“Not yet. Soon.” Swallowing, he continued the path he’d taken, telling her about the paradise tanager photograph, how when he’d shot it, he’d been filled with happiness for the future he’d surely have with Christy and as a father. He told Meredith what those birds had represented and how they’d flown away almost instantly.
“It was later that day that I found out that Christy had died, and ever since, I’ve connected that photograph to my future crumbling into dust. To losing what I loved most. That beauty...well, that it doesn’t last, I guess.”
A sob escaped from between her lips. “I can see how you would make such a comparison. I think I would, too. And, Liam, I am so very sorry. You don’t know how—”
“Shh. I’m okay, Goldi. I wasn’t, for a long time, but I am now. Thanks to you.” Then, before this woman he loved keeled over because he’d made her stand with her eyes closed for minutes on end, he then told her about the rainbow lorikeets, about what had transpired mere days ago. How in that moment, all he’d already known became crystal clear, solidified and sent his fear into the shadows. How hope and joy had done that.
How she had done that. For him.
Now came the most important, the most vital, of all he wanted—needed—to say. And Lord, he prayed he got it right. Or close enough to right that it wasn’t wrong. He’d take that. He’d count that as a win.
Pulling the ring box from his pocket with his free hand, he said, “You can open your eyes now, but only if you promise not to say a word until I’m finished.”
She nodded, said, “I promise,” and opened her eyes. Looked down and saw the ring box, which he’d opened, so the diamond solitaire sat front and center. “Liam! I just said—”
“That you promised to let me finish, so let me do so.” Another nod, but it came slower. “I love you, Meredith. I do. With my heart and my soul and my brain. I can no longer imagine waking up every day without you beside me or without ‘Mamma Mia’ playing too loud and you dancing in the kitchen. Or without you kicking my butt in Hedbanz. Or,” he said, “though it is difficult to admit this, your incessant questions and love for talking. I can’t live...my—”
Here, he broke off as emotion overwhelmed him, caught in his throat and stole the words he needed to say the most. Okay. He could do this. What was the worst that would happen?
She could say no. That was the worst, and he would respect her decision. But he wouldn’t give up easily. Couldn’t. Not for this woman.
Steadier again, he looked straight into her eyes, cleared his throat and said, “My life doesn’t work without you, not how it should. Not the way it is meant to. So, I’m asking you to marry me. Because I can no longer see a life that doesn’t include you beside me.”
“Liam.” She breathed his name more than she said it. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. And we don’t have to marry tomorrow or next week. Or hell,” he said, feeling his confidence grow, “next year.”
“Next year, huh?” she said, a glimmer of amusement in her voice, her expression. “I don’t know about that. Seems a little too undefined for my liking, but Liam, you—”
“I’ll marry you tomorrow,” he said. “Now, if we could. But I want this to be your choice, when you feel confident that I have your heart and will keep it whole. Forever.”
“I love you so much.” Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. “Have for a while now and, yes, I know this about you. You’ve shown it to me from day one.”
“Is that a yes, Goldi?” He knew it was, but he had to hear her say the word. Had to know that she was his, that he was hers, before he could fully welcome the joy and revel in the promise of the life he would have with this woman. “Will you walk with me down this path of ours?”
“Yes, Liam,” she said, her voice strong. Sure. Steadfast. “I will walk with you.”
And with those words, Liam reached for her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger, sealing the deal.
She was his. He was hers. From this moment forward, he would cherish and treasure his Goldilocks, care for her, raise his sword in defense. And he knew without question that this woman would do the same for him. Each day. Every day.
For the rest of their lives.