Page 63 of Dangers of Love

While we hadn’t specifically discussed finances, I’d pieced together enough to know that we could live well for quite a while without either of us working, even after the leftover money from my trust was spent. My understanding was that Eoin not only had a trust similar to mine, he also had accumulated significant savings from his years in the military and had invested well.

On top of all that, he also had income from shares in a successful family business. Like me, however, he wasn’t content to sit back and do nothing, not even after he’d sacrificed so much for this country. He wanted to work, to contribute to society.

And maybe prove to people he had a worth he didn’t quite believe in himself. Something else to which I could relate, despite both of us having grown up in good, loving – albeit imperfect – families.

With how the last couple months had gone, a part of me was a little nervous when I unlocked the door to the apartment. I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised to find Freedom waiting, ready to give a lecture while we packed my things. To my relief, she wasn’t there.

Relief, however, wasn’t the only thing I felt as I led Eoin back to my bedroom. I had some guilt too. I hadn’t told Freedom that I was coming today. I planned to leave her a note, but she would still come home to my things being gone.

“Are you sure we don’t need help?” Eoin asked.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, going straight to my closet for the rest of my luggage and the three totes I used to keep my off-season clothes. “Freedom furnished the apartment before I started at Stanford, so the large items are all hers.” I looked at him as something occurred to me. “Did you want to take some of the appliances or furniture? Electronics?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He went to my dresser and picked up a cedar music box. “Once we get your things settled at home with mine, we can go buy whatever else we need.”

“So we’ll have yours, mine, and ours?” I laughed, and so did he.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that, but yeah, I guess that’s what it would be.” He set the box down. “I just want you to have whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

I moved over to wrap my arms around his neck. “You and the baby are my home. Other stuff is just icing on the cake.”

He pulled me tight against him, his big hands curling around my hips so that his fingers were on my butt. “Now, I think we may need to get some icing on our way home.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you hungry for cake? I thought I was the one who was supposed to have cravings.”

He gave me a heated look that made things low in my stomach clench. “It’s not cake I want to eat icing off of.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “Then I guess we better get started. With you working the next three nights, sexy time is going to be limited.”

He burst out laughing. “‘Sexy time?’”

I grinned at him. “It sounded good in my head.”

“I’m sure it did.” He then proceeded to kiss me breathless before releasing me and insisting that we hurry up because he had a very specific flavor of icing in mind.

* * *

I was beginningto think that my life would never feel real again. Normal hadn’t really ever been something I’d experienced, but my world had always been solid. Dependable. Not average or boring, but logical, even when things were out of the ordinary.

Going to Iran with Neutral Ground had been a new experience for me, but it had been thought-out, planned. It wasn’t until I’d been kidnapped that everything had begun to take on this strange hazy feeling, as if I was locked in a dream from which I couldn’t wake, and it hadn’t gone away even after I’d been rescued.

In the time since then, when I’d been staying with Mom and Dad, or even at Martina’s, the situation hadn’t been something I’d intended to be permanent. I hadn’t settled in because neither place was really home. The problem had been that, until Freedom had learned about Eoin and me, I hadn’t realized that the apartment in Stanford hadn’t ever truly been my home either. I may have referred to it that way, but only in the same sort of sense that a college student would talk about their dormitory.

None of the places I’d lived had been mine in any adult sense. They had belonged to others who’d brought me in at different points in my life. Anything that I might have wanted to contribute had always needed to coincide with someone else’s wants or needs. Someone else had always arranged the furniture, chosen what they thought was best in everything from my bed to the type of toilet paper in the bathroom. I bought my own toiletries, but the color of the towels had already been chosen before I’d arrived.

Despite Eoin having purchased the condo prior to our engagement, it still hadn’t acquired that ‘lived-in’ look. He’d brought in his own things from the life he’d had before, and he’d arranged the basics in a few rooms, but he’d made sure I understood that he saw this as our home that we were creating together for our family. I could change things around, replace things, and it would always be about us.

With him having been gone overnight Friday night, Saturday night, and last night, there had been a lot that I’d been doing on my own, but that had honestly helped me feel more like this place belonged to both of us. Yesterday, over dinner, he’d told me that he wanted to put my name on the deed and merge our bank accounts. I knew there were women who – with good reason – needed to keep separate finances, but since neither Eoin nor I had any need to be wary of the other having a financial motivation for marriage, I took it for what it was, a way for us to have an equal partnership.

So even though the world still felt a little unreal, I was happy.

Freshly showered after handling the sweaty business of putting the last of my books into the library – with plenty of room left over for additional books – I went into the kitchen to find Eoin rummaging through the cabinets.

“You’re up early.”

“The best way for me to get back in a regular sleep schedule is to get just a few hours and then get up to have as normal a schedule as I can for the rest of the day.” He turned around with a triumphant expression on his face. When he held up the can of ravioli, I cringed.

“Please tell me you’re not going to eat that.”

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