“This was your family’s summer home?” she asked Ryan in weak disbelief. She knew that Ryan’s father was a top executive for a car company in Detroit, but she’d never really thought before about how affluent Ryan’s life must have been growing up.
“Yeah, but I don’t remember ever eating in this dining room once. We always ate on the back terrace or in the kitchen during the summertime,” he said, smiling in memory. She pictured it, Mari and Ryan—both of them suntanned and full of the buoyancy of youth—sitting on the shaded back terrace with the lovely climbing hydrangea in full bloom, regaling their parents with stories of their day’s adventures. Suddenly the image altered and she saw Ryan and she sitting at the same patio table, listening patiently to their dark-haired child’s excited retelling of their day.
They were touring one of the large, well-proportioned bedroom suites, which was filled with golden evening sunlight when Ryan suddenly asked Mrs. Reynolds if they could have some privacy. The real estate agent gave them a knowing glance, assured them she’d be out on the front porch, and told them to take their time.
“I hope I didn’t upset you,” Ryan said quietly, studying her from across the large room.
“You didn’t upset me! But I can’t figure out what you were thinking,” she exclaimed, a large measure of her incredulity sweeping over her again now that they were alone.
“You don’t like the house?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing. It’s perfect. I’ve never even considered living in a house like this. I grew up in this area. I know what a house like this so close to the beach must cost.”
“I can afford it.”
She stared at him, mute.
“Mari and I both received large trusts from our parents’ estate. I spent my entire adult life in the service. The military provided me with almost everything I needed. I didn’t have to spend as much as most people, so I was able to save a lot of money. Invest.”
Her mouth had gone dry. “But, Ryan, that’s your money.”
“It’s ours,” he said firmly, stepping toward her. His face looked gilded and solemn in the luminescent, golden light. “We’re married, F
aith.”
Unexpectedly the topic of their future had come up again. She hadn’t prepared for it. She didn’t know what to say.
Ryan touched her shoulder. She looked up at him helplessly.
“I know when I first brought up the topic of marriage, I said we could divorce after the baby is born. I’ll still do whatever you want in that regard, Faith. But you must know by now that isn’t what I want. I’d like us to remain as a family.” He touched her cheek. “I’d like that more than anything. But no matter what you decide about the house, I’m still considering buying it as an investment property.” He glanced around the sunny room. “It hurt to give up this house before. I’d like to keep it in the family.”
Utterly caught in his solemn-eyed stare, she jumped slightly when his cell phone began to ring. He muttered under his breath and reached into his pocket to get it. He scowled when he saw the number, tapped a button and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Faith asked bemusedly.
“No,” he said. He reached for her hand. “Did I happen to mention this was my bedroom, growing up?”
“It was?” Faith asked, glancing around for a fresh take on the room.
“Yeah. Come on. Let me show you the master bedroom. I have some ideas for renovation in there that’d make it incredible...”
* * *
“What are you thinking?” Ryan asked her later on the drive back to Holland.
Faith bit at her bottom lip anxiously. The idea of moving into that gorgeous home with Ryan, of raising their child there, was like being told an amazing dream could come true. But in order for them to step so firmly into the future, didn’t they need to confirm their feelings for one another? Was it really enough for Ryan to choose a future based solely on his love for family and his child?
Wasn’t love and partnership important, as well?
She realized that Ryan was patiently awaiting her answer.
“I think it was incredibly generous of you to make this offer, Ryan. The house is fantastic. And you’re right...a house like that doesn’t go up on the market frequently in Harbor Town. I can understand why you’d want to own it again. They tend to be kept in families for generations.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“I loved it,” she said, looking at him as he drove. “Do you think I could have a little time to think over the idea of us moving there together, though?”
“Of course.”