Page 127 of Huckleberry Hill
“I could possibly. And I do.”
I tried to move—but he was still inside me. And he wrapped his arms around me and forced me to stay caged within his embrace.
“You love me too,” he declared. “And that scares you. But that’s okay. You can be scared all you want. I’m not running. I’m not taking the brand deal. I’m not leaving you, and I never will.”
Emotion screamed through my chest, clawing up my throat. “You say that now. But you’ll change your mind. I know you’ll change your mind.”
He stared at me and his expression cleared. “That’s what happened with your fiancé, didn’t it? You told him about your infertility.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “He said it was going to be okay. That we’d still be together and have a life. And then . . . he left me and went to Italy alone. He said he was okay with it, but he wasn’t. Having children of his own was more important to him than having a life with me.”
“He’s a son of a bitch and stupid to let you go. Well, his loss is my gain and I’m not making the mistake of ever letting you go. You’re mine and I’m yours, and nothing else matters.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to be everything that Gianni wasn’t, but my heart had been broken once before by a man who was supposed to love me unconditionally.
“I’m not Gianni,” he said quietly, leaning forward and brushing his lips against mine. “And if you want a family, we’ll find a way to have one. I promise. Adoption, surrogacy, whatever you want, Hadley.”
“How, Declan?” I whispered. “How is this going to work?”
“It just will,” he vowed. “Because when it’s right, it’s right. And we’re right. More than right.”
“I want to believe you. But how can I?”
“Time. You take all the time in the world to come around to the idea that I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m broken?—”
“No.”
“All I’ve wanted—since as long as I can remember—is a family. It may not be enough for some people, but it’s enough for me. I always dreamed of a loud house with a large family.”
“Not all families are blood. Some are made. We can make any kind of family you want.”
Fresh tears gathered in my eyes, and they streamed down my cheeks. He kissed them away with his lips.
“You want to know when I fell in love with you?” he asked, kissing my forehead.
“When?” I sniffled.
“The moment you fell on top of me the very first time I ever laid eyes on you. You were adorable and embarrassed and blushing. And I just felt like . . . like I’d been knocked off my feet.”
“You were knocked off your feet,” I pointed out with a smile. “You’re telling me it was love at first sight?”
“Yup.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“That’s why you never cared about telling my father, right? I mean, you never even thought of putting your job before me.”
“There is nothing before you. There’s you, and then there’s everything else.”
I sighed. “You’re not love-bombing me, are you?”
“No. I’ve never said those words to another woman.”
“Thirty-two-years old and in love for the first time?” I cocked my head. “No wonder you carried me over your shoulder like a caveman.”
