His chest rose and fell as he inhaled and let out a whooshed breath, maybe buying time. “I’m in love with you, Ginny. Head over heels. Till death do us part. The whole enchilada.”
“Don’t sayenchilada,” she whispered, and then everything went black.
When she came to, Donovan was cussing like a sailor and chafing her hands. They were both on the dusty floor of the workshop, she in his lap.
“Did I faint again?” she asked.
“Yes.” He scowled. “I think I can handle fatherhood, but this pregnancy may be the death of me.”
She held his hand to her face. “I love you, too, Donovan. And not just because you knocked me up.”
His lips twitched. “Out of curiosity, why did you think I asked you to move in?”
“Convenient booty calls? And because I can cook? Maybe I’ll be able to again when the smell of anything and everything doesn’t make me want to puke.”
He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, grinning when she nipped him with her teeth. “We live two miles apart,” he said. “The booty was already convenient. AndIknow how to cook, too. I’ve just been letting you do it because I thought you liked feeding me.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“My dad was a great cook. He taught me how. Lasagna. Beef Stroganoff. Fried-bologna sandwiches.”
Ginny’s stomach heaved. She put a hand over her mouth. “Stop. Stop. Stop. We can compare culinary notes later.” When she thought the danger had passed, she levered herself upright and leaned into him. “Help me stand up, will you?”
Donovan did as she asked, but he hovered. “Take it easy, Sunshine.” He smiled. “Do you know why I call you that?”
She shrugged. “I always assumed it was my hair.”
“Could be. But mostly it’s the way you make me feel. Like the sun is shining all the time, warming me even on the dreariest days. I adore you, Ginny. You’re going to be a fabulous mother.”
“Don’t make me cry.” She sniffed. Then she cocked her head. “Why aren’t you working on the big dining room table? What’s under that tarp?”
His smile changed, became guarded. “It was going to be a surprise, but maybe this will convince you I’m in it for the long haul.”
With her hand clasped in one of his, he took two steps and flipped back the heavy canvas. Beneath it was a collection of wood, some pieces already cut. Cherry. Gorgeous grain. This time, there was nothing she could do about the tears that welled up and rolled down her cheeks. She looked up at him. Saw the love in his eyes. The cautious hope. “You’re making a crib?” she said, the words shaky with emotion.
He nodded, picking up one of the narrow pieces that would eventually be a side slat. “Yeah. And if we’re smart, we’ll use it more than once. ’Cause you know I don’t like to waste stuff.”
She chuckled through her astonishment, incredulous that her passion for him could grow and grow and feel even more perfect.
“I love you so very much, Donovan Mason.” She leaned her head against his arm. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”
He turned her toward him and bent his head, finding her lips with his.
The kiss sizzled all the way down to her toes. “Better than okay, my dearest Ginny. We’re going to have the best shotgun wedding there ever was, and we’re going to live happily ever after. You can bet on it...”
