From the first moment I saw her in that hospital corridor, I’d loved her hopeful hazel eyes … but never more than this moment, watching them widen in surprise. “You didn’t.”
“I was flying to Florida when you called. Mallory told me about your foster parent application — I’m so proud of you for that, by the way,” I said, and the look she gave me nearly took my breath away. “I told Carol and Terry that you needed a bigger house right away, and they agreed to lease it to you for the same rent as the garage.”
Her eyelids dropped closed. “How long has Mallory known?”
“About a week.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered. Her fingertips touched her lips, surprised to hear herself curse.
I laughed and the exuberance must have startled her because she jumped. Then after a moment, she started to laugh too.
Her expression sobered as she looked at the keys again, then tried to hand them back. “Thank you, Alex, but I … I can’t just move into their house.”
“Know what I told them?” I asked, purposely not taking the keys back. “The most wonderful woman I’ve ever met, with the biggest heart on the planet, needs a place to live with a charming little mini-Mallory. And hopefully this is a way to keep the house in the family, because I’m head over heels in love with her, and one day I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Soon.
Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at me, then the house, then the keys in her hand.
When I’d called Mallory, she told me to just come home and talk to Grace … but it hadn’t felt like enough. So she begrudgingly shared Grace’s foster parenting plans and housing situation. My chest felt tight with pride: She was chasing her dream … and I wanted to be beside her for every step of it.
My original plan had been to buy the damn house and hand her the deed as a romantic grand gesture … but Mallory told me that was creepy stalker behavior.
She said that I didn’t want Grace to feel beholden to me for buying something that she couldn't afford, or to agree out of obligation because I’d bought her a fucking house, backing her into an impossible situation where she couldn’t say no. I thought about Grace’s implication that the cost of our hotel room impacted the choice to have sex and realized that my sister was right, yet again.
When did my siblings get so fucking smart and annoyingly insightful?
Before I could tell her that she won, Mallory kept ranting that she wanted Grace to choose me for me, not my name or my money. The only exception was that she could choose me for my awesome family, because Mallory already felt like Grace was her sister, and sister-in-law would formalize that.
“Where will you live?” Grace asked shyly, her gaze pinging between the rooms of the house instead of meeting my eyes.
Oh god, the moment of truth. I practiced this with Mallory to make sure I presented it correctly, but my palms still sweat with nerves.
“That’s up to you,” I said. "I could get a bachelor pad and we could date for a while to see if you like me once the initial excitement has worn off."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“Or,” I said, feeling my rapid pulse in every blood cell, “you could invite me to live here with you. But I don’t want to rush you.”
I made that mistake before, never again. If she needs time, she’ll have it.
“Alex, it’s not that simple,” she sighed. “Anybody living with me will need a background check and regular home visits and —”
“No problem. I want to be in your life, however you want me.” I let that sink in as she chewed her lip in deliberation and I gathered the courage to swing for the fences. “As long as I’m laying out your options …”
I reached for her hands, and she turned to face me, her soft smile still tinged with disbelief.
“Grace …” I said softly, my mouth dry. “I’ve always wanted a family, but I was so focused on my career that I wasn’t sure that was possible. Coming back reminded me how much I want to be a parent. In fact … That dream, on New Year’s Day, in the perfect house? It wasn’t perfect because it was in San Francisco. It was perfect because you lived there with me. You … and Ruby.” When my voice cracked, she let out a soft sob. “There was never a moment in that dream she was apart from you. It felt so clear that it was meant to be more than just you and me.”
I pushed through this final offer, sweating through the most important negotiation of my life. “if you’re open to it, we could do it together. I could be a foster parent with you. To Ruby, and more kids if they need us.”
Then I backed off, hearing Mallory’s voice urging agency and consent and other terms I’d needed to look up. “Or not. Your choice. And you don’t need to decide right now, I just … I’m trying to be better about giving you all the —”
“Yes, of course, yes!” She said, pulling my coat lapels and lifting on her toes to meet my lips. As she kissed me, I wondered when I'd fallen in love with her: that first night at the hospital, or under the mistletoe, or maybe when I was shoveling and she pulled her truck into this driveway … her driveway. Our driveway?
I broke the kiss to see those magical hazel eyes with flecks of gold in the moonlight. “So is that … what did you just agree to?”
She rolled her eyes softly. “Always needing to define the terms.”
“This is important, Grace,” I said. “I need to know what you want.”
“All of it. The house, the parenting, the … the future.” Her face flushed that nervous way, her gaze dipping to my mouth, pulling me closer. “Move in with me. Raise a family with me. Spend your life with me. I want all of it with you.”
I felt a surge of warmth as she shivered in my arms. “Come on darling, Mom’s been in there all week making updates for you and I can’t wait to see them.”
“You haven’t been inside?”
“I wanted to do it together.”
I interlaced our hands and let her lead the way up the steps, where she smiled before opening the door to her house. Our house. Our future.
Our eyes instantly lifted to the fireplace mantle, where Kate’s painting hung in the place of honor. Beneath it, Mom had staged framed photos: the selfie Grace took on the ski lift was the biggest one, a goofy picture of Mallory picking Grace’s nose, childhood photos of …
I picked up a photo I’d never seen. “Is this you and Elijah?”
A male voice startled me. “It sure is.”
I spun as Grace gasped. “What are you —?”
