Hearts Like Ours | Red View Romance #1

🍏 Thirty Four

It was a relief, Dawson thought, to not have to sneak around. He didn't have to wait until the middle of the night to go to Layla's room—instead, they both went to his when they got home. They stayed up talking without worrying if their voices were low enough for anyone to hear. And in the morning he let himself stay curled around her and let her stay asleep in his arms—there was no need for either of them to slink away in the dawn before anyone realized they'd been together.

Of course, duty did call. He gave himself fifteen minutes of laying with Layla in that blissful state just between sleep and waking, hoping for nothing more than a lifetime of mornings just like that one. Then he forced himself out of bed, tucking the covers back around her bare body before he headed to the bathroom for a shower. Once he was cleaned up, shaved, and dressed for the day, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead--careful not to wake her this time--and headed downstairs to see what he could pull together for breakfast.

It'd have to be a fast one if he wanted to keep to his usual schedule—and though he knew other people might not expect it of him, he did like his schedule. It was one of the things he thought he and Jack actually still might have in common.

Dawson opted for coffee, jam toast, an apple, and one of the extra cinnamon rolls from the last batch he'd made for the store. Kenzie always thought it was unfair how he could eat and eat while still staying so lean. He smiled to himself as he buttered his toast, knowing the jealousy was misplaced. They had the same genes, and hell, he'd been a pudgy kid. It was the damn job that kept him in shape these days.

Kenzie and Marshall, though, were trimming up nicely. He could already see such a difference in both of them—not just in how they looked, but how they felt. He didn't know it was possible for Kenzie to get more energy, and yet, between the diet and the exercise, Layla managed to make it happen—and somehow make his sister enjoy it.

His woman, he thought, was damn good at her job.

My woman, he repeated to himself with a smile and a head shake as he sat at the island to eat. Since when did he say things like that?

Only weeks ago he'd been pining for the wedding to just happen already—he was tired of all the commotion, he wanted to see Cliff, and he could do with talk around the dinner table going back to more than just wedding dresses and cake toppers. Now, he was pining for the same thing for an entirely different reason.

He just wanted to tell Layla the truth.

I love you. 

I'm in love with you.

How long had it been since those words came out of his mouth? A long time, and yet he knew he wouldn't have changed it. There was no regret in any of the failed relationships of his past. The cheating ex, the ones-that-could've-been if only he hadn't been afraid. It all led him to Layla.

Led him to sitting in his kitchen, eating the world's most random breakfast with an unstoppable grin, all because he couldn't stop thinking about her. About them, as a pair, as a couple with a future that went far past the upcoming wedding.

Like maybe to one of their own someday.

God, he really was crazy. Which was exactly why he'd wait to tell her any of it. If he scared her away now by trying to rush her down the road he was already miles down, he'd never forgive himself. She'd either catch up to him soon, or more likely, when she was a little further along, he'd let her know what was up ahead.

He was just about to bite into the cinnamon roll when thudding knocks on the front door had him flinching in his seat. With a terse sigh he rose, leaving the treat behind as he walked to the entrance. The fact that it was probably some early-rising salesman or lost road-tripper only worsened the itch of annoyance, but he tried to snuff it out since he knew it might be Frank, Lee, or even one of the new guys Jack hired.