Page 66 of Mending Hearts

The question was loaded with meaning both obvious and barely disguised. He tipped his head at my protruding belly. “Going back and forth is risky.”

It was May, so my bulky coats wouldn’t be inconspicuous much longer, and I would only get bigger now that my stomach had given up the fight. Once I moved into the train station, I wouldn’t have to leave again until I lost the baby weight. Grady even installed a small dance studio and a tiny gym with a treadmill and elliptical to help drop the pounds afterward.

Moving in here would be one step removed from Tyler. No more nightly orgasms. No more lazy evenings in bed, his ear pressed to my belly while I toyed with his hair. The truth was, the hurricane swirled around me, waiting to suck me back in, spin me around. The eye was the dangerous place, where it was easy to forget the vicious winds awaiting.

Maybe it was better if those comforts stopped now, before I got too secure, lulled into believing the chaos wouldn’t come for me.

The idea of moving in here alone made my stomach roll, even though I was long past needing lollipops to appease it.

“He can stay here, too.” Grady tried to catch my gaze.

“I don’t know. I guess I need to make a decision soonish. After the gala.” I had to wade through the VISION Gala minefield in a few days.

“You and Tyler driving to New York for that?”

“We leave tomorrow,” I confirmed. “When we get back, I’ll let you know whether I’m moving in here. It’s the most logical choice.”

“Like I said, if you want Tyler to shack up here with you, I could care less. We’re all family, right?”

Family.

I nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. “Do you think you’ll marry Maggie?”

“If she’ll have me.”

“How did you know, you know, that she was it? The one. Your person?”

He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. “She’s been the woman for me for so long, I can’t really remember a time when she wasn’t.” With a finger, he traced the light switch. “You’re wondering about Tyler?”

“No,” I said. “No, I just—I can’t imagine feeling that way about someone.Forever. People aren’t built for that.”

“Hmm.” He searched my face, his brown eyes seeing more than I wanted. “I don’t know what’s actually going on between you and Tyler. It’s none of my business. But since you asked and my answer doesn’t fit, I’ll tell you this. When you love someone, when youreallylove someone, the idea of going through life without them is equivalent to having an organ removed. There’s this gaping hole.” He touched his chest. “The only person who can fill it is the one you love. That’s when you know.”

“Are we inJerry McGuireright now? You complete me?” I gave him a wry smile. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“You know that movie? Sometimes that shit isn’t wrong, Mia. But, nah, it’s not really about someone completing you. I was a completeperson before I managed to convince Maggie I wasn’t a total asshole.” He looked up at the ceiling and seemed to be searching for the right words. “She gets me. We’re very different, Maggie and I, but when we’re together, the world makes more sense.”

The train station door opened, and Pasha dipped his head in, pointing to his watch. I had a fitting with Tyler at the shop in fifteen minutes. This was the first but also hopefully the final one before the gala in a couple of days.

“Well, thanks, Grady. I’ll let you know if I’m moving in anytime soon.” I should move in. If I were smart, I’d go home and pack right now. The longer I stayed with Tyler, the harder it would be to leave.

Pasha popped open the alley door which led right into Tyler’s workroom at the back of the shop. Slipping out of the car, I squeezed past him into the room. I hadn’t seen the dress since Tyler showed me his sketches a couple of weeks ago.

Against the wall, the dress dangled from a hanger, and I sucked in a sharp breath at its beauty. The dress was art. Of course, I’d known Tyler was talented. Based on what I saw on tour, what he did with the dress he made for me, his own clothes which I discovered he often tailor-made from thrift store finds, all pointed to his gift for design. Sketchbooks littered his house, brimming with ideas. Every piece of creativity scattered around his life was how I knew he could design something fit for the gala.

The dress hanging against the wall exceeded all of my expectations. People were going to freak out when I showed up in it. I traced the galaxy he’d created on the dress. So much of the material was handstitched in vibrant colors which popped off the rich, black velvet.

When the door opened behind me, I didn’t turn to look, too busy peering at the tiny, intricate details in the dress. “This dress—”

“Isn’t quite finished.” His shoulder brushed against mine. “Creating a fictional world in space is more time-consuming than I anticipated.”

“It’s gorgeous…”

“But.”

“It looks too long?” The dress was poised above my head, but I knew my height, my dimensions from countless fittings. I wasn’t this tall.

He tipped his head toward the corner. “The way it is now, it would also show off your gorgeous curves. But that contraption,” he pointed to the round metal piece, “slipped underneath will give you some breathing room and make the dress just the right length.”

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