She took a step backward. “And now we’d better go inside before my friend Taylor fusses at me for monopolizing all her son’s time and attention when I’m sure she wants many more details about her grandbaby.”
He turned with her toward the door. Just before entering the house, his aunt paused to glance up at him. “This Hannah, is she a treasure, Andrew?”
He kissed her cheek. “Yes, Aunt Michelle, she is.”
She smiled. “Then maybe you should figure out the answers to those questions sooner rather than later.”
* * *
Hannah pressed a hand to her aching back and looked in her fridge without enthusiasm Wednesday evening. She had little appetite but knew she needed to eat. It wasn’t that she lacked food. On the pretext of making more than they could possibly eat themselves, her mother, aunt and grandmother had all dropped by with covered dishes during the past few days. Pasta salad, bean burritos, lasagna and homemade vegetable soup sat on the refrigerator shelves in covered plastic bowls. Not one of them appealed to her at the moment. With a sigh, she took out the pasta salad, primarily because she could eat it cold.
She ate at the kitchen table, doggedly chewing and swallowing the pasta, cheese cubes, cherry tomatoes and olives tossed in a balsamic vinaigrette. It was good, she supposed. Filling anyway, which was all that counted at the moment.
Her laptop lay open on the table beside her plate. She’d promised her grandmother she’d work on a gift registry for the baby shower, but she was having trouble concentrating. It made her a little uncomfortable to list things she wouldn’t mind getting as gifts. Had she not worried that Mimi would probably just register for her, she might have skipped the task altogether.
Her phone lay beside the computer. Her gaze continued to be drawn to the dark, silent screen. It wasn’t that she was expecting any calls exactly, but she had to admit she’d thought Andrew would check in with her today. She hadn’t talked to him since a quick call from his office Monday morning, when he’d told her that he was crazy-busy and would probably not get back to the resort until Saturday at the earliest. She’d assured him she was fine and told him there was no need to come back so soon. They still had plenty of time to make all their plans.
Still, she’d thought he would call. How often had she even crossed his mind in the past couple of days? Was he annoyed with her for rejecting his suggestion—she refused to call his prosaic offer a proposal—of marriage? She was sure he thought it would be easier—logistically—if they lived in the same house, raising their daughter together when he wasn’t busy with his work. Yet she doubted that he was heartbroken that she’d turned him down. Unsuccessful business propositions rarely led to broken hearts, she thought with an undercurrent of bitterness.
Her heart wasn’t completely shattered either, she assured herself, giving up on the meal and carrying her plate to the sink. Okay, sure, she loved him. And maybe she had fantasized a little about a perfect future with him and their daughter, a happily ever after ending that seemed unlikely considering the circumstances. Maybe she wouldn’t get over her disappointment exactly, but she would survive it. She was strong. Independent. Capable. She had her family, her daughter, her work. She and Andrew could be friends and partners in raising Claire Elizabeth, even with separate personal lives. And there would be no more sharing a bed for them, she told herself sternly. The best way to get past those wistful fantasies was to put them firmly behind her. She needed a clear head when it came to dealing with Andrew, and making love with him clouded her mind to a point that she couldn’t even think clearly.
She brewed a cup of herbal tea, deciding to spend the remainder of the evening relaxing in front of the television with her laptop. She wasn’t sure what was on tonight, but she could always stream one of her favorite feel-good movies. Maybe watching someone else’s happy ending would cheer her before bedtime. She had just settled onto the couch with the teacup in one hand and the TV remote in the other when someone knocked on her door. It wasn’t Maggie’s usual four-rap knock.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was just after 8:00 p.m. Curious, she set her tea aside and crossed the room. A gasp escaped her when she opened the door. “Andrew?”
He frowned. “You didn’t check first to see who it was?”
“I didn’t think of it. What are you doing here?”
He shook his head. “After all that has happened here during the past month, you should start thinking more about security.”
Her heart was beginning to slow to its normal pace, though she still wasn’t quite over the surprise of finding him at her door. She planted her hands on her hips. “Did you drive four hours just to yell at me for answering my door?”
Making a face, he pushed a hand over his hair. “Sorry. No, that’s not why I came.”
She moved aside to allow him to enter, closing the door slowly behind him. “I thought you said you were swamped with work this week.”
His expression turned rueful. “I had my administrative assistant shuffle some things again. She’s threatening to quit.”
“So why did you come?” she asked, genuinely perplexed.
He took a step closer to her, and something in his eyes now made her heart start to pound again. “I realized—with a little help from a couple of wise women—that I’ve been a dummy. I wanted to try to rectify that.”
Clasping her fingers in front of her, she frowned and moistened her lips. Dummy was not a word she’d heard Andrew use before. It sounded rather out of character now. “I don’t understand.”
“My aunt Michelle gave me some questions to think about before I talked to you again. I’ve given them a lot of consideration, and I wanted to share my answers with you. In person.”
“Questions?” She was growing more confused by the minute. “What questions?”
While Andrew’s tone had been light, his expression was very serious as he steadily met her eyes. “There were three actually. Do I want to marry you, or do I think I should just because of the baby? If I do want to marry you, why? And would I still want to marry you if you weren’t carrying my child?”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “Those are...big questions.”
He took another step forward, never looking away from her. “Do you want to hear my answers?”
Her fingers were tangled so tightly she could feel them cramping, but was only distantly aware of the discomfort. “I think I should.”
Taking her hands in his, he rubbed his thumbs gently over the backs of them, soothing the tensed muscles. “I want to marry you,” he said, his voice low and deep. “Not because I think I should, but because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And while the baby may be the reason I came to the resort last week, I would still want to marry you even if you weren’t pregnant. I’ve thought of you every day since we were together in December, and not a day has gone by that I didn’t want to call you or come see you. The only reason I held back was because I thought you wanted me to stay away. I don’t know how much longer I could have resisted even if the baby hadn’t given me an excuse to see you again.”