Page 92 of Heartbeats & Highways

“You promise you won’t get mad?”

“No. Now tell me what’s on your mind. I’m listening.”

“You’ve been so generous, Savage. The car and the doctor’s appointment. Wanting to go to the birthing classes . . . God, it’s been wonderful.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“I don’t want you to think that I—that because my past was hard and I came to this city with nothing . . . I don’t want you to think all I want from you is your money.”

“Babe,” he said gently. “I could never think that. Ever. But I can take care of you, and I’m already in love with you.”

I swallowed. “Randall controlled our money. And in the end, I had nothing to my name.”

“Ah, I see what this is really about.” He nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“I’ll never use money to control you. We’ll set up a bank account that I have no access to and I’ll put money in there and you spend it however you want.”

“Which again, that’s so generous of you, Savage. But that’s the whole point. It’s stillyourmoney. It’s stillyougiving it to me. I want to make my own way in this world, even though we’re together.”

“Tell you what.” He got up off his stool and came to me. “I’ll cover the big things, okay? You keep your money and spend it however you want, and if you wanna start saving and buying cars and houses I’m good with that too.”

“But how are you okay with that?” I asked in shock.

“Because money is one of those things that’s only able to control you when you don’t have it. But I’ve already got money. What am I supposed to spend it on if not you and the babies?”

I sighed. “You’re wonderful.”

“I know.” He kissed my nose. “Eat, babe. And don’t worry.”

He let me go and I picked up my fork. After I swallowed a bite, I asked, “What kind of place do you want? Something open, like a loft or . . .”

“You know, I’ve never really thought about it,” he said.

“No?”

He shook his head. “As long as the place is comfortable, what do I care what it looks like?”

“But what does comfort look like for you?” I asked.

“What does it look like foryou?” he countered. “Do you like this apartment? The layout? The size? The colors?”

“I’d prefer a place with no stairs.”

“Why no stairs?”

I took a deep breath and then said, “If there are no stairs, no one can push you down them.”

My admittance weighed in the air between us. I kept my gaze trained on him. His body tightened and he looked ready to spring from his stool. He clenched his fists instead.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” I said with a worried frown. “Now you’ll have to go back to The Ring.”

He shook his head. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t share something like that. Even if it makes me want to punch a wall.”

“Just when I think I’m moving past it, I—things come up.”

“Damn it,” Savage muttered. “I’d kill him myself if he were still alive. The idea of him hurting you . . .”

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