Her eyes narrowed. She knew. She’d always know.
“Wade,” she said without looking away from me, “give us a minute?”
He clapped my shoulder on his way out. “Think about what I said.”
When he was gone, she stepped closer, her hand brushing my sleeve. “Jonas, what’s wrong?”
I almost lied. Almost buried it deep. But then she looked up at me with that trust in her eyes—the same trust she’d given me last night—and I cracked wide open.
“I was watching you with a kid this morning,” I admitted.
Her face softened. “The kids were so sweet. One little girl wanted sleigh bells because she’s hoping Santa brings her a pony.”
“You’re good with them.”
“I like children,” she said simply. “Why does that bother you?”
“Because you’d make an amazing mom.” My throat felt tight. “And I don’t know how to be a dad. Or a husband. Or do any of this family stuff.”
Her eyes widened.
“I grew up in foster care,” I said quickly. “Twelve homes. No family. No Christmas mornings worth remembering. I don’t know how to do it right, Paige. And you deserve someone who does.”
For a beat, she just stared. Then—to my shock—she laughed.
“You think you’re going to mess up a family you don’t even have yet?” she asked.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” She rose onto her toes, cupping my face in her hands. Her touch steadied me, even as she shook her head. “Jonas, nobody knows what they’re doing. My parents? My dad lost his parents as a teenager. My mom’s father walked out when she was ten. They figured it out. Everyone does.”
“Not me.”
“Yes, you.” Her grip tightened. Her voice burned with conviction. “You think I don’t see you? You’ve been protectingpeople your whole damn life. You just didn’t call it family before. But that’s what it is.”
The lump in my throat grew. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of failing you. Of not being enough.”
Her eyes shone. “Jonas, you are enough. You’re everything. When you touched me yesterday, I felt like I was finally home. And today? Watching you worry about kids we don’t even have yet? That just proves you’d be an incredible father.”
The fear didn’t vanish, but it loosened its chokehold.
“I’m already falling in love with you,” I said. The words tore out of me, raw and unpolished but real.
Her smile was all the answer I needed. “I’m falling for you too.”
“Even though I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“Especially because you don’t.” Her lips brushed mine. “It means we get to figure it out together.”
I wrapped her in my arms, inhaling the scent of pine and cocoa and her. “You really want this life with me?” I asked against her hair.
“You’re not broken, Jonas. You’re seasoned. Like a cast-iron skillet.”
I huffed a laugh. “Did you just compare me to cookware?”
