35. Willow

Willow

When Ronan opens the front door, his shirt is unbuttoned, his feet are bare, and his hair is sticking up in all kinds of wild directions. I smother my laugh, reaching up to smooth down one particularly wayward lock.

"You don't look like you're ready to schmooze your way through an endorsement dinner," I remark as I walk inside.

"That's because I'm not." His voice sounds strained as he kisses my forehead. "Thanks for coming over. I'm sorry to do this to you. Mom woke up this morning not feeling great and her fever started an hour ago." He grimaces as my fingers start to button up his shirt.

His hand covers mine, and when I look up, he's staring down at me with so much love and affection it floors me.

"You're saving my ass, Willow."

The emotions are overwhelming me, so I opt for humour. "Well, I wouldn't want the executives thinking their new star player was slacking on his promotional duties."

His throaty chuckle sends tingles down my spine. "Good thing I've got at least one of the bigwigs on my side." This time, his kiss lands softly on my lips. But we're interrupted by an excited young voice.

"Willow's here? Daddy, why didn't you tell me?"

We pull apart quickly, but Ronan doesn't look upset that Peyton caught us kissing. In fact, to my surprise, he wraps his arm around my shoulder after I give the little girl a quick hug.

"Okay, Rocket. You're gonna be good for Willow, right? Go to bed on time, eat your dinner?"

Peyton nods. "Yup. And only one treat after supper." She turns to me and says, "Daddy bought more caramel popcorn!"

I grin down at her excited face. "Excellent, we'll have to choose a movie. And maybe make a blanket fort?"

Her audible gasp of delight warms my heart, even as Ronan pretends to groan. "Oh man, I'm missing a blanket fort? Dang it!"

Peyton takes my hand, dragging me away from Ronan. "C'mon, let's go start finding blankets!"

I look back over my shoulder at Ronan, still with a partially-buttoned shirt, standing at the base of his staircase. That look is back on his face, the one that tells me he wants me to stay here in this happy home. To make it mine.

It's tempting, there's no denying that.

Peyton and I gather up armfuls of blankets and pillows from her bedroom and playroom, dumping them in the family room and then continuing to find more. She leads me to the upper floor, and into a room I have never set foot in. Ronan's room.

"Daddy?" Peyton calls. "Can we take your blankets, too?"

He comes out of the en suite with an indulgent expression. "Not all of them, kiddo. I need somewhere to sleep."

"You can sleep with me in the fort," she replies matter-of-factly, and Ronan just shakes his head with a rueful grin.

"Okay, Rocket. Go for it." He walks over to us, fidgeting with his tie. "Can you help me out, Cherry?" I reach up and straighten it, smoothing my hands down the front of his shirt when I'm done, feeling the muscles bunch and tense.

"You look great," I say softly.

He leans down to kiss me, but I lean back, glancing around for Peyton, but the room's empty.

"She's not here. And I want to kiss you properly," he growls before capturing my lips. We fuse together for several minutes, and I itch to reach up and mess his now-styled hair. When we part, I can see his pulse fluttering in his neck, and I drift my hand over it.

"Just curious, what does Peyton think our relationship is?"

Ronan tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, letting his fingers trail down my neck. "She's four, her understanding of romantic relationships is limited. She's also never seen me with a woman." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "I told her you and I are really good friends, that I liked you a lot, and I would be holding your hand, hugging you, and kissing you sometimes. She asked if it would be like when I hold her hand." He chuckles. "Trust me, trying to decide how to explain the difference wasn't easy. So for now, I sort of glossed over it. I hope that's okay?"

He sounds earnest in his checking in with my feelings, which touches me. It's his daughter, but he's making it clear that I matter, as well.

"Of course it is," I reply easily. "I'll go along with whatever you think is best."

He tilts his head down, his lips finding my forehead again. "We're a team in this, Willow. She's my daughter, but you're my girl. Your opinion matters."

"And that means the world to me." I lift up on my toes to kiss him properly, just in time for Peyton to return.

"Daddy, I'm hungry."

Giving my man a smile, I wink. "I've got this, you need to get going." Grabbing Peyton's hand, I lead her out of his room. "C'mon, Pey, you can help me make dinner."

A few minutes later, Ronan hugs both of us goodbye, and then he's gone, leaving me with his precious little girl. The level of trust that shows he has in me isn't something I'm taking for granted.

Together we make macaroni and cheese with some veggies I cut into funny shapes, a trick I used to try with Cooper when we were struggling to get him to eat vegetables. Star-shaped cucumber slices were his favourite, and to my relief, Peyton loves them, too. After we eat and I put the dishes into the dishwasher, I turn to the little girl with my hands on my hips.

"Alright. What are we going to play now?"

"Baseball!" Peyton chirps excitedly, running off to her playroom. I follow her down the hall and find her struggling to set up a small plastic tee, holding a foam ball and bat in her hands.

I hurry over to her side, taking the bat and ball out of her hands. "Hold on, one step at a time. Are you allowed to do this inside?" I ask somewhat skeptically. But she nods so emphatically, I guess I'll believe her.

"Yup. Only with the foam ball. If I wanna use a hard one, we hafta be outside and Daddy wears his glove. He says I hit real hard," she states with a proud smile.

"I bet you do," I say in return. "Alright, let's see it, slugger."

"Wait, we need the net."

Marching over to the closet, Peyton pulls out a small net that she stands at one end of the room. There's no denying she's a baseball player's kid with this setup. I help her line up the tee, then step back.

"Watch this, Willow." She swings wildly, missing the ball and whirling around with a giggle. "Oops."

"Plant your feet," I say encouragingly. Her little tongue pokes out the side of her mouth as she takes another swing, this time connecting, sending the little foam ball into the net.

"Excellent! Home run," I cheer, clapping my hands.

Peyton gives me a grin. "You try!"

"Wow, okay," I say, pretending to be nervous. "It's been a while since I hit a ball. I'm not as good as you are, that's for sure."

"That's 'cause my dad taught me a lot," she says confidently. "Don't worry, I'll help you." Her adorable face makes me smile in return. And for the next half hour, we take turns hitting the ball, then switch to tossing it gently to each other before she gets distracted by a board game sitting on a table. We play that, then Peyton decides it's movie time.

Finally, two hours later, her eyelids are drooping as I turn off the TV. "Come on, kiddo. It's late. We gotta get you to bed," I say quietly.

Instead of standing up, Peyton lifts her arms up, and my heart swells at the gesture. Trying to ignore the moisture in my eyes from this sweet little girl, I pick her up, but when she rests her head on my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my neck, I feel one tear escape.

Carrying her to her bedroom, I help her into pajamas and her bathroom routine. Once she's settled in bed, her eyes barely open, I sit next to her. "Thanks for being so much fun, Peyton."

"You're fun, too, Willow. Can we play again soon?" she asks sleepily.

I nod. "I'd really like that."

"My daddy says he really likes you. I do, too."

Leaning down, I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I really like you and your daddy, as well. Sleep tight, kiddo."

Her eyes flutter closed, and I watch her breathing settle into a slow, steady rhythm. The easy sleep of a child. I stay there for several minutes, watching her, filled with longing to have more nights like this.

Because I wasn't entirely honest with her. I don't just like her and her dad. I love them.

When I head back downstairs, I come to an abrupt stop at the entry to the kitchen. Ronan's mom is there, in a bathrobe, her face pale and drawn, getting something out of the fridge.

"Pam, hi," I say when she notices me. I know Ronan said his mom was home sick, but I didn't expect to find her in the kitchen. And since I don't know if Ronan ever got around to telling her about us, I have an idea what she thinks about me being here with her precious granddaughter.

"Hi, Willow," she says with a wan smile. "Sorry to intrude, I just wanted to get one of Ronan's electrolyte drinks."

"That's okay," I say, making my way into the kitchen. "How are you feeling?"

Ronan's mother grimaces. "Not great." She coughs into her elbow to punctuate the statement. "Whatever this bug is, it came on fast. I just hope Ronan and Peyton don't catch it. Which is why I won't linger."

Drink in hand, she shuffles toward the back door, then pauses and looks back at me. "Thank you for coming to help tonight. My granddaughter was thrilled to know you were coming back."

"Oh, it was nothing," I stammer, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. I may not have grown up with a mom of my own, but I've spent enough time around Tori to sense when a mother is about to stand up for her kid.

But to my surprise, Pam doesn't have anything bad to say.

"My son and granddaughter are happy. Very happy. And I'm no fool, I know it's not just because they enjoy living here or that the team is doing well this season. It's because of you. When we moved out here, I could see immediately that Ronan had changed. There was a hopefulness to him I hadn't seen before. He might think he was fooling me with his ‘late nights with the team,' but here's the thing. Mothers always know. He was going to see you."

I open my mouth to apologize, but she beats me to it.

"I'm not upset that he didn't tell me the truth. Your relationship is none of my business. Except to say, thank you. Thank you for helping him see that he deserves to be happy and loved. To have someone take care of him the way he always takes care of everyone else." Her head tilts to the side thoughtfully. "Don't hold back your feelings, Willow. Something tells me you deserve your happily ever after just as much as he does."

With one last small smile, Pam walks back out to her guest house, leaving me with my heart beating wildly.

It's still racing an hour later when the front door unlocks and Ronan walks in to find me sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of chamomile tea in my hand.

"Hey, Cherry. How did everything go?" he asks, kissing the top of my head.

I spin around on the stool and watch him shrug off his suit jacket and loosen his tie.

"I love you."

His hands freeze. Slowly, he shifts toward me, eyes bright with hope and love. "What was that?"

I swallow and offer a tremulous smile. "I love you, Ronan. You and your daughter. I love you both. More than I ever thought possible. I'm sorry it took me a while to say it back, but I was scared. Only I think it wasn't loving you that scared me. I've realized that loving you doesn't mean losing who I am. Because you love me for who I am, and you won't let me lose that."

A smile creases his face as his eyes close and his head tips back slightly. After a second, he looks back at me, fire in his gaze as he lifts me off my stool and into his arms, kissing me deeply, making me dizzy with the intensity of emotion I feel reverberating through him.

Pulling back slightly, he rests his forehead on mine, his hands locked tight around me. "I love you, Willow. Fucking hell, do I love you. You're everything I want, everything I need, and everything I never thought I could have. And I swear to you, for as long as you'll have me, I'll never let you forget that you complete me in a way no one else ever could." His broken whisper has my eyes welling up with happy tears once again.

Tears that quickly dissipate when Ronan steps back and unbuttons his shirt, shrugging it off to the floor.

"I want to make love to you, Willow. Can I do that?"

"Yes."