“It’s not finished yet, but I’m taking you anyway. Telling you I love you isn’t good enough. Telling you I’m ready isn’t good enough. You’ve always been more focused on actions rather than words,” he says cryptically.
But as his words process, my grin reforms. He told me he loves me again… Well, sort of. I think.
Damn confusing man.
“I need my crutches,” I tell him, hoping he’ll drop a hint as to where we’re going.
I decided quickly that walking was a bad idea, since the stitches are ready to pop out with too much mobility.
“I’ll carry you,” he says, giving me no indication as to where we’re zipping toward. But I’ve figured it out by now.
We’re pulling up at his house, and there are several cars in the yard.
Ah hell. My eyes are red and puffy, my cheeks are streaked with tears from the Ethan/baby moment, and we’re about to see people?
Ethan doesn’t speak as he gets out and walks around to my side of the car. When he opens the door, I don’t argue or voice my vain concerns. He lifts me out of the car, grunting dramatically like I’ve gained weight since we left the house.
When I narrow my eyes at him, he grins and starts carrying me toward the door. It feels less awkward now with that tiny bit of playfulness from him.
As soon as we reach the front door, it swings open, and Arlene is greeting us… with a frown.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“It’s sort of my house, and I wanted Bella to see it.”
I’ve seen his house. Numerous times. Hell, I lived in it for a few weeks.
Arlene’s frown deepens. “But it’s not finished.”
“She needs to see it now,” Ethan says, shrugging as he holds me.
She almost looks like she’s pouting, but her eyes water when she turns her gaze to me.
“I hope you know how happy you’ve made me,” she states randomly. Then her smile grows. “I’m finally going to be a grandmother!”
I’d laugh, but I’m too confused at the moment.
“Yeah, and she danced for twenty minutes to celebrate,” Ethan grumbles, walking by her as he starts carrying me inside.
The house looks… wrecked.
There are boxes everywhere that have been ripped open, and all the packaging is strewn across the floor. I don’t get a good look at anything, because Ethan is briskly walking through the house.
As soon as we reach his guestroom, Arlene pushes open the door, and a fresh bout of tears hit me when the confusion clears.
Allie is on her knees, struggling to pull off some painter’s tape. Tag and Wren are in the floor, putting together the most expensive looking crib I’ve ever seen. Rye is holding Brin on his shoulders as she pulls the tape down from the top.
The room is a soft gray… Almost white. All sorts of little frames and artwork are in a pile in the center. But my eyes land on a rocking chair that is off to the side… The only finished piece in the massive room.
There’s a tiny quilt folded across the arm of it. It looks old and worn, but absolutely beautiful. I also remember seeing it in one of Ethan’s baby pictures. It was his quilt made by his mother.
“I’m sure you’ll make your own,” Arlene says as she steps up beside me, swiping away her tears as she follows my gaze. “But I thought you could use that one when the other needed washing.”
I’d thank her, but my voice is lost. One word will set me off.
Instead, I just gaze into her eyes, hoping she sees the appreciation there. She pats my cheek and kisses my forehead before beaming at me and walking off.
All eyes turn to us when they spot us in the room. Rain and Tria are tangling with a changing station, but their eyes jerk up, taking notice of us as well. Raya and Kade put down the trash bags they’re holding, and Kade clears his throat.