HARDCORE: Storm MC(225)

I could hardly breathe. It felt like my chest would explode from the size of my heart as it grew and grew.



“You mean it? Like…what, as a nanny or something?” I hoped it wasn’t what he meant, but I couldn’t take any chances. I didn’t want my heart broken when I assumed the wrong thing.



“No.” He looked at me, frowning. “That wasn’t what I meant at all. I want you. You. I want you to stay.”



“Oh,” I breathed. It was all I could do.



“You’re not gonna make this easy on me. Okay, fine.” He took a deep breath. “I love you.”



The tears in my eyes made his face blur in front of me, but it looked like he was smiling.



“You’re not just saying that after tonight?” I asked.



“Why can’t you ever make anything easy? I love you. Isn’t that enough?”



“Of course it is. I just want to be sure. I don’t want you to feel like you should say it after everything that happened tonight.”



“No way. I love you. I fucking love you. That’s it. Even if you don’t wanna stay with me, I’ll still fucking love you.”



I laughed, my hand shooting up to my jaw when pain zipped through it. He frowned.



“I could kill that bastard for touching you,” he growled.



“It’s okay. He’ll get what’s coming to him.” I could hardly believe how happy that thought made me.



“So? What do you think? I mean, no pressure. Don’t feel like you have to just because I love you and would probably die if you left me.”



I shook my head, grinning. “No pressure at all.”



“None.” He grinned, too.



“You know I love you.” I took his face in my hands, marveling at the way life worked out sometimes, before his lips met mine in a gentle, sweet kiss I wished could last forever.





Chapter Twenty-Nine



Lance





The next morning, I woke up with the sun in my eyes. I never closed the blinds before falling into bed. I was probably asleep before my head hit the pillow.



I slept so deeply, in fact, that it was a surprise when I woke up and found Gigi in bed with Jamie and me. It made sense. I wouldn’t want to sleep alone if I were her.



They didn’t look anything alike, but I had never seen two people remind me more of a mother and daughter. Jamie was on her stomach—her tailbone and head wouldn’t let her sleep on her back—with one arm over Gigi. Gigi looked comfortable, relaxed. Even with her dark hair and face that looked just like mine, she could have been blonde-haired Jamie’s little girl.



I closed my eyes and said another prayer. I was getting big on the whole praying thing, but I had a lot of time to make up for, too. I thanked whoever was listening for the chance to be with Jamie and Gigi again. I was never so thankful in my life as I was then.



I wondered what Gigi dreamed about after the night she had. Jamie, too. I hadn’t dreamed at all. I was out cold. I hoped they were the same. I didn’t want my daughter to have nightmares after what happened. I would do everything in my power to make sure she never had to go through anything like that again—or anything like she went through living with Rae.



She said she would see the lawyer with me the next day. He’d have the papers ready. I couldn’t wait for her to sign them. I never thought I would be so excited about being a father. Was this me? Really? The same Lance who used to kick women out of bed when he woke up with them? Who didn’t know their name or remember anything about what they did together?



I liked myself more than I did then. That was a big deal.



Gigi moved, rubbing her face on the pillow. I watched and waited, wondering if she would wake up. She opened her eyes. I smiled.



“Good morning,” I mouthed.



“Good morning.”



“How are you?”



“Okay.” Then she mouthed, “Bathroom.”



I nodded, lifting Jamie’s arm so she could slide out from under it. We slowly, carefully, slid out of bed. She went to her bathroom; I went to mine. We met in the hallway.



I didn’t know what to say to her. We hadn’t said anything to each other since the night before, really, when I screamed at her to run away. She was a good girl, too. She did just what I told her to do without asking questions.



I looked down at her. She looked up at me. Then she wrapped her arms around my legs and squeezed. I did one better—I picked her up, holding her to me. It felt right.



“I’m starving,” I whispered. We went downstairs together and fixed cereal. She surprised me when she had no problem talking about the night before.