He reaches for me gently. Handling me like glass but holding me so close and warm. Running his huge hands over my back.
Humming his signature growl of approval, satisfaction, and happiness all at once.
There’s nothing left to say. We both feel it.
The circuit’s complete.
Older man claims younger girl. They fall so deeply in love that there’s only one thing that could bring them closer.
And now they have it.
The little life growing inside me.
Our first child, and I know already that Harry’s planning little brothers or sisters, even before number one’s outta the gate.
But I feel the same.
We hold each other for a long time. Crying with joy, laughing a little, and just sighing all the ‘wow’ that knowing a baby’s on the way brings.
Something I never thought I’d ever experience. And never with anyone as amazing, as handsome, or as loving as Harry.
When he does let go of me, it’s only long enough to put a vinyl record on to play.
The lo-fi sax solo starting up softly. Sending a shiver up my spine as my man takes my hands in his.
Urging me with his eyes to join him in a slow dance.
His arms around me, holding me close. Holding all of us under his watch. Baby and me.
Harry and I keep up the slow dance long after the record finishes and the needle jumping. Stuck in the grove of the record.
But we’re not stuck.
Only on each other.
“There’s nothing else for it,” Harry finally says.
His deep voice echoes off the walls and makes me jump a little.
Like waking from a dream.
But it’s more like waking up inside another dream. An even better one when I look up and see the expression on his face.
Knowing full well what he’s talking about.
“Mrs. Harry Holmes… What do you say?” he croons thoughtfully, lifting his brows and making me melt back into him.
I try to speak. Try to say something. But I can only nod my head in a yes.
He grips me tighter, breathing me in the way he does when he rests his chin on the top of my head.
Kissing it tenderly.
“I love you Megan….,” he rasps.
It’s dark out. The city skyline looking like a blurred streak of color. Almost an afterthought.
There’s the silent pop and bloom of fireworks near the bay.