Chapter Thirty-Three

Declan had learned several things over the last week. Without Sophia, his life sucked. He felt like he was living in a country song. The sun didn’t shine as bright, coffee didn’t taste as good, laughing felt hollow, and there was an ever-present ache in his chest. That was one. He’d also learned that no matter how long a person spent picking up scattered Lego, there’d be more to find. He was reminded of how much he hated painting when he’d put a fresh coat on the room he’d all but destroyed. He didn’t know if Sophia would want to use that as a nursery. It was closer to the master bedroom, but the other spare bedroom had a window seat. It would be her choice. And he hoped like hell she was going to choose him.

He’d sent a text and was waiting, heart and stomach tangled in a big fucking heaping mess at the bar. The scent of flowers was giving him a mild headache. He’d bought every variety he could find at the local florist.

Sophia had shown up for work on the Tuesday after their fight only after he’d promised he wouldn’t be there. For a week, he’d given her the space she asked for, working around her schedule, squashing the almost consuming desire to phone her, to go see her. The only thing that kept him sane was his plan to get her back. He couldn’t wait anymore.

The alarm beeped, alerting him that she’d arrived. When Sophia walked into the bar from the backroom, Declan felt like someone had finally passed him an oxygen mask.

She looked around at the empty space. “Where is everyone?” Her eyes landed on the flowers. There was no way to miss them as they covered the length of the bar, each bouquet in a separate vase.

He rose from the stool but didn’t step toward her. If he got any closer, he’d scoop her up and hug her until their bodies melded together.

“I’m closed. Until tonight.”

Her hair was loose, cascading over her shoulders. She wore an adorable white shirt with a huge pink heart in the center. Perfect for Valentine’s Day. And she was the only Valentine he ever wanted. He’d always thought the holiday was trite. Now, he just figured one day wasn’t enough to truly show her everything he felt, but it was a great day to start.

The tips of the heart perfectly highlighted her breasts while the bottom of the heart seemed like an arrow pointing at her gently rounded belly. She’d paired it with a black skirt that flared out at the bottom and sexy boots that went to her knees. She looked like everything he’d ever wanted.

“Why are you closed? I thought the only day you closed was Christmas.” Her breath hitched, like she just realized the implications of them being alone.

He nodded. “Usually.” He took a couple steps. They looked like they were facing off at dawn. The sun even splashed through the windows, putting them in the spotlight.

“You look so good,” he said, his voice thick and rough.

“You, too,” she whispered.

“I miss you,” he said. He hadn’t meant to say it.

Her jaw clenched, and her eyes darted down to the floor. Right. She needed choices, he’d give them to her and deal with the aftermath.

“I, uh, I have a few things for you to look at. Things I need some help deciding.”

Sophia lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “That’s why you asked me to come in?” She looked over at the flowers, then back at him.

“I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. If you tell me, I’ll always get the right ones.”

“The daisies,” she whispered.

At least he knew which ones those were. She continued to stare, and he knew he was confusing her, but he had a plan, and as dumb as it seemed at this moment when all he wanted to do was tug her close and never let her go, he was carrying it out.

He nodded. He’d been starved for the sight of her and kept getting lost just looking at her. “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

She tilted her head. “Does it matter?”

“Not to me. But it’s up to you,” he said, hoping she understood the significance of his words. He held his hand out to her, ignoring the way his heart hammered like a freaking woodpecker on crack in his chest.

Sophia hesitated so long his breath caught, but when she slipped her hand into his palm, his pulse settled. “Table.”

He grabbed the folder from the bar and led her to a table. He held the chair out for her and waited until she was seated before sitting across from her.

“What kinds of decisions are you trying to make?” She sat so stiffly, her back ramrod straight.

“Ones that impact us both.”

“Dec.”

Emotion twisted his insides. “Let me lay out all the options, okay? Then, every choice is up to you. I realize that I overstepped. More than once. And it wasn’t because I don’t believe in you or think you’re not strong enough to make the best choices. It was because I was terrified you wouldn’t choose me.”

She bit her lip, her top teeth sinking into the bottom.

He opened the folder and took out the little cards he’d borrowed from the Match More stock that was waiting in the back for tonight. Clients could make notes in the cards and collect them as they went as a way to remind themselves who they connected with.

Taking a deep breath, he dove. “I have a series of cards here. We’ll move through them one by one, and when we get to a standstill, you can decide where you want to go from there. The answers are yes, no, or maybe.” He’d replaced some of the original questions, such as can you see yourself spending an evening with this person? The yes, no, maybe had already been there, so he’d built his questions around those answers.

“Is this necessary?” Her tone was almost amused.

“I need to show you that I believe in you. That I believe in us and that whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

She nodded, and he slid the first card toward her. She opened it and read the words.

Is there any chance for us to move forward? Yes. No. Maybe.

Declan handed her a pen. She took a shuddery breath and circled maybe.

Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. Hurdle one, clear.

He slid the card aside and passed her the next one.

Can you find a way to forgive me? Yes. No. Maybe.

Sophia circled maybe.

His heart hitched, and he slid that one aside and took a deep breath. “I need you to know I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. The night I opened this bar, I screwed up and put the special in the register for a dollar twenty-five instead of four twenty-five. I lost a load of cash. It was a rookie mistake, but I’d never owned a bar before. I didn’t make that mistake again. I’ve never been in love before, so I made another rookie mistake. I won’t make the same one again, Sophia.”

Her eyes watered as she pulled in a shuddery breath. She nodded, biting down on her lip. He slid another card in front of her.

Can you see yourself growing old with me? Yes. No. Maybe.

Her hand hovered above the answers. She circled maybe.

Fuck. He was going to hate the word maybe by the time this was finished. But she hadn’t circled no yet.

Next card. Do you want to continue working at On Dec? Yes. No. Maybe.

She circled yes.

That was good news. The more he could be with her, the better. Next question. When you imagine the future, am I in it? Yes. No. Maybe.

Sophia set the pen down, and his heart tried to leap out of his chest. She stared at him across the table.

“Is that what you want?” she asked.

More than he wanted his next breath. “This is about what you want,” he replied. It took effort to keep his tone even.

“That’s not how relationships work, Declan. It takes compromise and…patience. It’s making sure you both have everything you need to make things last. It’s about what we both want and need. Though I would imagine, over time, those things change, so the couple has to as well.”

He reached across the table, over the cards, and took both of her hands. “What do you need? Because I’ve spent a week without you, and what I learned is that all I need to breathe, to function, to be happy and fulfilled is you. Both of you,” he amended, looking down toward her stomach.

He looked up to see tears had filled her eyes. “However this works. Whatever you want. I want to belong to you, and I want you to belong to me. I want us to be a family. As long as I know, at the end of the day, we’re together, I can handle anything.”

Sniffling, she squeezed his hands. “Can I see the second card again?”

Shit. His heart hammered so hard he wondered if she could hear it as he found it and slid it back.

Can you find a way to forgive me? Yes. No. Maybe.

The pen scratched over the card. Declan held his breath while her hand moved. She slid it back in front of him. She’d crossed out yes, no, and maybe. She’d written, always. His gaze snapped up.

“I already did. I want everything you said. Us. Together. A family,” she whispered.

Declan didn’t want the table between them, so he pulled her hands and moved his chair back at the same time. She accommodated him, rising and coming to sit on his lap. He pulled her close, hugging her, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head on her chest. She smelled so fucking good. She felt so good. Leaning back, he looked up, cupped her jaw, then pressed kisses to both of her cheeks where tears had wet them. “Tell me what else. What else do you want?”

“I want to live in your house.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “Thank God. Yes. What else?”

She laughed, shifting on his lap, distracting him. “I want to help other businesses in Brockton with marketing campaigns. My dad is hiring me to design his new menus. Eventually, you might need a new floor manager if it keeps me busy. I’m sort of hoping it’s something I can do at home at least part of the time. But not yet. Not until after the baby.” She put a hand over her stomach, and he placed his over hers.

He’d hire ten managers. He didn’t care. “Done. What else?”

“I want you to know the difference between supporting me and protecting me.”

He swallowed the thickness in his throat. “I’m learning. It’s instinct, I guess, because I’ve never felt it before, to want to take care of you. To make things easier on you. I promise you I’ll be more open. I won’t make your decisions for you. I want to make decisions with you. What else?”

“I want you to never again call my brother instead of me when it concerns us.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Never.”

“I want to get married.”

Now he felt like he’d swallowed a fucking rainbow. “I do, too.”

She laughed. “Before the baby.”

“We can go right now,” he said, meaning it.

Fresh tears streamed down, and he caught them with his thumbs as he pressed his mouth to hers, unable to wait any longer to kiss her, to touch her, to be close to her. He’d missed her the way he would air in his lungs or blood in his veins. She was vital. She was everything.

Sophia pulled back but kept her hands on his face. They probably looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care.

“I want a partnership, Dec. That means it isn’t only about what I want. It’s your turn. What do you want?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation.

“What else?”

Taking a deep breath, he nudged her off of his lap so she was standing. When she was, he pulled her in and turned them both in a slow waltz around the floor. He didn’t need music if he had Sophe. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “There is one thing.”

“What?”

“I want to hear you say it back.”

She leaned her upper body away from him, her smile brighter and warmer than the sunshine pouring through the windows. “I love you.”

His fingers tightened around her hand and her waist. “Again,” he whispered.

With a small laugh, she tunneled her fingers into his hair. “I. Love. You. Declan. James. It wasn’t until you that I really knew how that felt. But now that I do, I don’t ever want to be without it. Or you.”

He moved to kiss her, but she stepped back. He dropped his hands and watched her walk to her purse at the table, unzip it, pull something out, and walk back over, folded paper in hand.

“I have one more request,” she said.

“Anything.”

She smirked. That sassy, knowing smirk, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“I want the baby to have your last name. Keith signed away rights.” She handed him the paper.

As he unfolded it, he realized his hands were shaking. Sure enough, the idiot had scrawled his signature across the bottom. Declan looked up at Sophia.

“This is why you wanted him to stay.” He was so stupid. He’d been so worried that if her ex got her alone, he’d convince her to give them another try. He should have known she wouldn’t give him a second chance. Because she didn’t love him. She loved Declan.

“The only reason.”

He folded the paper, stuffed it in his back pocket, and took her hands in his. Bringing them to his lips, he kissed both of them.

“I love you, Sophia. You’re my reason. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I didn’t have enough faith to get me over my insecurities. But if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives showing you how much I love you and believe in you. In us.” He lowered himself to one knee. He pulled the ring—a princess cut solitaire with a thin band of diamonds circling it—and held it up in front of her.

“You can choose the date, the time, the color scheme, the food, the guests, whatever you want. All I want is to be yours forever. To be your husband. Will you marry me?”

Sophia inhaled a sharp, shaky breath as she nodded. He slipped the ring on her finger, and it fit perfectly. Like them.

He stood, kissing her and loving the feel of her arms wrapping around his neck. When he pulled back, he grinned at her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Sophia laughed, the sound soothing him. Igniting him. “Our first.”

“Of many.”

“And we’re spending the night with dozens of hopeful strangers,” she said.

Glancing at the Match More cards, he looked back at Sophia. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll get as lucky as I did.”

She kissed him. Against his mouth, she added, “As lucky as we did.”