“You okay over there?”
“Yeah.” My voice box is a squeaky toy. Nice.
Jessie’s eyes widen because now she knows something serious is about to go down. I’m seconds from changing my mind and finding a potted plant to hand her instead. What if she sees this and thinks I’m insane? What if she hates it? What if…
“Drew?” Jessie asks, sounding a little concerned as she takes my hand. “Seriously, are you feeling alright? You’re white as a sheet all of a sudden.”
I c
lear my throat and nod, putting my hand on the small of her back to push her down the hall a bit. We stop outside the closed second guest bedroom door, and before I have the chance to chicken out, I push it open. Jessie is still smiling at me curiously until her gaze slowly moves to the room and it falls completely.
Oh no.
I knew it.
This is too much too soon.
It was a stupid idea.
She’s going to break up with me.
“Jessie…say something…” I ask, afraid she’s stopped breathing. I’m going to have to resuscitate her.
She’s motionless, staring at the room, and I’m just about to pull her back out and slam the door with a hundred apologies when I stop short. Her jaw ticks and eyes flutter several times like she does when she’s trying not to cry, which is honestly about fifty times a day lately—but are these good tears or bad tears?
“You…” She sucks in a breath then presses her lips together with a shake of her head like she’s not ready to talk yet because she knows a sob will spill out. After another few seconds, she finally looks up at me, her green eyes full of unshed tears, and when a small smile pulls at her mouth, I know these are happy emotions. “You made me a nursery?” Her voice cracks and shakes, her joy sitting so fragilely on the surface of her skin that it makes me want to cry too.
I nod just as Jessie’s arms fly around my neck. I wrap her up, trying to pull her as close to me as her belly will allow. “I know there’s a very real chance your house won’t be done in time for the birth…and…I just wanted you to have a place to bring the baby home to and not feel displaced.”
“Why would you do all of this for me?” she says into my neck.
I pull away enough to look down into her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you, Jessie. I lo—”
My words are cut off when her mouth crashes into mine. She wraps her arms around my neck again and nearly pulls me over. I spin Jessie around to lean her against the wall.
She smiles up at me in between kisses and whispers, “I love you too.”
I look back and forth between both of her eyes and then dive back down to take her lips, but Lucy interrupts before I get the chance.
“Mmhmm…and we’re the gross ones. Come on, Jessie! Peel that pucker away from my brother and look at this nursery already!”
Jessie laughs and rests her forehead against my chest before sliding out from under my arm to walk around the room with Lucy and admire everything. She cries again when she realizes I bought her the things off of her secret registry we made together, the one she thought only existed so she could go back and buy it all when she got home. The moment she fell asleep that night, I purchased it all and had it overnighted. What’s the point of having an incredible salary if you can’t spoil someone with it?
“Thank you,” Jessie says, looking at me in equal parts awe and terror. I know her—I know it scares her to receive a gift like this from a man, but I plan to show her over the coming days, weeks, months, and years that she can trust me to love her well. To give her gifts not because I need anything from her, not because I’m apologizing for something terrible I did. Just because I love her.
“Yeah, yeah, Drew mashed his finger on the BUY NOW button—big whoop! Cooper and I are the real MVPs here,” Lucy states with zero delicacy, making me and Jessie both laugh.
Cooper runs his hand down the grey velvet curtains like he’s modeling them on QVC. “And how about these bad boys? Just take a look at how level that curtain rod is.”
“Did you hang the curtains, Cooper?” Jessie asks, her smile so big and wide I’m sure her cheeks will hurt tomorrow. Good.
Lucy hip-checks him out of the way. “No! I did. He strung the curtains on the rod, but I did all the drilling. Don’t try to steal my spotlight.”
Cooper grins down at Lucy. “I think you’re using the phrase all the drilling a little too liberally.”
“I was the one who held the drilly thing and pushed the button to make it spin.”
“The drill. It’s just called a drill. And I’m the one who put the drywall anchors in, lined up the screw, and held it in place so you could push the button.”