Page 67 of Mending Hearts

I ventured to the corner, my hand running along the series of hoops. “A hoopskirt?”

“Also called a farthingale during Elizabeth I’s reign. I had to custom build it since we’ll be putting it just under your bust and I need to be sure you’ll be protected from speculation.” He collapsed it down with his hands and looked at me. “Strip.”

I threw him a teasing smile before I removed everything except my bra and underwear. Once I stepped inside, he let his hands go, and it sprung up around me. I laughed, delighted. “God, that’s so smart. Look at you, all clever.”

He grinned and took a lollipop out of his pocket to twirl between his fingers. Without opening it, he tucked it back in his pocket and carefullyremoved the dress, slipping it over my head so it slid over the boning of the hoop. When I looked down, it grazed the floor, perfect. At my back, he used clips to tighten the dress.

As soon as he finished, I swished over to the full-length mirror. With my hair spilling around my shoulders, I looked like a giant, wild solar system. I twisted my hand into my hair and secured the bulk of it on top of my head. Turning from side to side, I marveled at the detail.

“People will go wild about this.”

“I don’t know. It’s a bit on the nose with the theme. But the solar system is all invented—none of it is real. I have reasons to explain my choices if anyone bothers to ask.” He chuckled. “I was worried it would feel too… I don’t know…something. But you wear it exceptionally well.”

“You’re going to be more famous than me after this.” My comment wasn’t flattery. I couldn’t imagine anyone else arriving in something so gorgeous and perfect. How had I managed to hook up with someone this amazing? After all the terrible men I’d known, he was a gift—one I’d have to return, but a gift, nonetheless.

“I doubt that,” he said, his tone wry.

While I stared at myself in the mirror, I realized I’d probably never get another moment like this, one where Tyler had dressed me, where we were a team, where I was protected and cherished. Tears pooled in my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.

I didn’t want this to be the last time, the only time this moment happened. But I wasn’t capable of long-term commitment, didn’t want to be a mother, couldn’t be responsible for other people’s happiness.

For the first time since I’d hit it big, I had the headspace to figure out what mademehappy. Being around him made me happy. Being on stagesurrounded by thousands of fans made me happy. Writing songs made me happy.

Having a baby did not make me happy.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He stepped in front and brushed away my tears.

“The train station is done.”

“Okay,” he drew out the word. “I knew you were meeting Grady today.” He ducked down so our gazes connected.

“And you need to get things ready for this baby—like a room and some clothes and, I don’t know, lots of other things.”

Out of his pocket, he produced the lollipop and ripped off the wrapper. He stared at it for a minute and then focused on me. “I was hoping you might want to do some of the planning and organizing with me.”

I shook my head and wiped my cheeks where tears continued to fall. God, why was I always crying? It was annoying. There was no reason to be crying. I had a good life before Tyler and this baby. I’d have a good life once this baby was born, and I was on my own again. “I don’t want to do any of that.”

He stuck the lollipop into his cheek, and I caught the scent of jasmine. Did he even order any of the other kinds anymore? Sometimes, I still found a stray lemon-and-ginger one lying around the house, as though he left me a token, a reminder. Maybe he did. There was no end to his thoughtfulness, his kindness.

“Okay.” Tyler turned his back and busied himself at his worktable. “Are you telling me you want to move your stuff over to the train station?”

My heart sank, dipped low into my stomach. It was the middle of May. The baby was due at the end of July. I could still have…eight, maybe ten weeks with Tyler before I had to give him up.

“Move into the train station with me.” The words left in a rush, not thought through, not planned. But Grady had planted the seed, and now it was sprouting.

“Move out of my house into the train station?” With a frown, he turned to face me.

“Temporarily. Think about it.” I held up my hand to stop his objections. This was an excellent plan, actually. “Pasha and I will be gone from your house, and with you gone too, you can get someone to decorate the bedroom, fill it with all the stuff you’ll need. You won’t have to smell the paint or whatever.”

He rubbed his face, and I could sense another objection coming. Logic had no place here. I wanted him, wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything or anyone.

“Please.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. The distance between us already felt too great. I crossed the room and squeezed between his legs, the dress surprisingly flexible. “Please, Tyler.” Once we separated, I’d never have another relationship like this again; I knew it. Much worse, I’d never get to be withhimlike this again.

He cupped my cheek, and he brushed away my tears with his thumb, tenderness in his gaze. “Are you sure?”

I nodded my head and didn’t bother to acknowledge the tears blurring my vision. Moving him to the train station was a terrible idea and would only make what came later harder. But I wanted him so badly.

“If you’re suggesting this because you think it’s what I want, you don’t have to. I want to be with you, but you like your space, and I get that.”

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