I snort. “Don’t be so sure.”
“I’m going to go make us some tea,” Trista offers, getting off the floor.
“Oh, can you find the cookies I hid from myself as well?” I request. “Somewhere in the lower cabinets.”
“Yeah, sure.” Trista rolls her eyes with a smile and squeezes Michael’s arm on the way out as he walks in and takes her seat on the floor next to me.
“Hey, Rockstar.” His eyes are soft and full of worry, and he opens his arms to beckon me to him, which I gladly accept, curling up in his lap and burrowing into his chest, inhaling the minty scent of his shampoo. “Having a hard time?”
“Yeah.” I nuzzle deeper. “Your fault. You shouldn’t have left me this morning.”
Michael barks out a laugh and tightens his arms around me. “I didn’t want to, and next time I won’t.”
“What are we doing here, Mikey?”
“Cuddling,” he answers with that hint of bratty mischief in his voice. “We’re very good at that.”
“We are,” I agree. “But that wasn’t what I was asking.”
“I know.” He lets out a heavy sigh and shifts so he can look at my face. “You really want to do this now?”
“You left a big day at work to come here. I assume you know it wasn’t just to cuddle.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, even before the raised eyebrow and sexy boyish smirk light up Michael’s face, I realize how that sounded. “Oh, stop.”
“Can you blame me?” he asks, and I grumble because I can’t really. “And, more to the point, you and Gremlin always come first, Lauren.Always.” He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my eyes to his, that deep and serious tawny gaze anchoring me, reminding me that this is where I belong. By his side.
“Tell me why you’re upset, Lauren.” And the way he says my name, soft but commanding, sends a shudder through me.
“I’m scared I’ll be a crap mom and ruin Gremlin’s life. And I’m scared that the clan only accepts me because of Gremlin and because you have my back. And that if you ever flip on me, they’ll disappear from my life, and I don’t want them to.” I take a deep breath, willing away the tears threatening to burst again. “And I’m terrified because I’m in love with you, and I don’t know if you’ll ever feel the same way.”
Michael smiles, swiping my cheek with his thumb. “You are going to be the best mom in the world, and I will never stop having your back because I’m not an asshole.” I give him an amused look. “Not where it matters, at least.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Not ever, Cupcake.”
“And I already told you, you were part of this family well before I came along, and no matter what happens, that won’t ever change.”
He shifts under me again, and I realize I may be a tad heavy for him in my current state. “Just look at Lee and Trent. If that debacle didn’t tear everyone apart, what couldyouever do short of murdering me.”
“Which isn’t an entirely fictional scenario.”
“And as for that last part,” he continues, ignoring my peanut gallery comment, “remember after our first night when you told me that in a different lifetime, you’d be falling for me?”
“And you said you’d be falling right along with me.” I smile at the memory. “It does seem as if it were in a different lifetime.”
“It was, Rockstar.” He leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips. “It was in the sad and dreary version of my life before you.”
“And you left because it was pushing you back to a place you didn’t want to go to.” I pull myself up from Michael’s lap somewhat clumsily and with some help. “I can’t do this if you’ll run every time things get too deep.”
I start toward the door, hearing the drag of jeans over the thick carpet as Michael stands behind me.
“Harmony,” he blurts out, and I turn to look at him with wide eyes.
“What?” I blink, resting a protective hand over my belly. “Is that a name suggestion? Because I don’t think it’ll go over well for a boy.”
“No. Harmony is a term originating from the world of music that means two notes from different octaves that blend perfectly.” He takes a step in my direction, everything from hope to desperation flashing through his eyes. “In euphemism—finding the balance between two counterparts to create peace—internally and externally.”
“Okay,” I whisper, still trying to understand what he’s trying to say.
“You’re my harmony, Lore. Our notes blend so perfectly that everything in my life suddenly makes sense.” Michael’s eyes search mine, and when I approach him hesitantly, he closes the gap with two long strides, pulling me close. “I thought falling in love again would throw me off balance. But with you, I found equilibrium, and together we create the most beautiful music. I want that forever. I want to make music with you until we’re gray and old and tell our grandkids a completely embellished version of how we met.”