Chapter 85

85

Daniel was out there. In front of the park. Gunnar could see him from the window. He looked toward the kitchen. Powell was pestering her mother and stealing bites of vegetables from the cutting board, claiming the baby was starving. She was happier than he'd seen her since…before.

She'd told him that Cara had agreed to consider the position as Powell's personal assistant. Cara just wanted to talk to her family first—because, apparently, that was how Cara Coleson always did things. He'd seen Cara for himself, all confused and adorable when Gunnar had walked her and Powell to the parking lot, where Powell's guards had been waiting to follow them back to Hughes Heights and Norm had been waiting to pick up Cara. Waiting and armed with a .45 Gunnar suspected the man knew just how to use. He hadn't missed the rather large knife at the man's waist either.

There really wasn't anything normal about Norman Halson.

There were still nightmares in Powell's eyes. He suspected they were going to stick around for a long, long time. But she was focusing on the future now. On the baby. On him.

On the question she'd asked him as they'd driven back to Hughes Heights from B-3. That beautiful, wonderful, perfect, loving, phenomenal woman wanted one Gunnar Erickson to move in with her. And stay forever. She'd said rings weren't necessary, but if that was what he wanted—she'd get her mother planning right away.

And then she had grinned at him. Told him she wasn't wasting any more time or letting him get away now. That they had nesting to do and everything. And she'd been ordered to get Gunnar's clothes off as much as possible before the baby came.

If he was up for it.

Gunnar would always remember how she had looked in that moment. He wasn't entirely certain, but he was almost convinced Powell had proposed to him. As they were driving along Boethe Highway, two bodyguards trailing behind them in a Barratt-Handley Enterprises car.

There had never been a more perfect moment.

He'd told her he was hers. Forever.

She could do with him what she wished.

Her cheeks had turned brilliant red at that. Damn, he loved that woman. Truly loved her.

Her father was in his home office, finishing up a conversation with the mayor—his nephew Turner. Melissa was in charge of dinner. He didn't know where Powell's brothers were tonight. They would probably show up eventually. Powell was chattering at her mother about her plans for Cara—and had just made a joke about how, once she got Cara with Alex, she was going to work on Heather with Mac next.

Melissa had just laughed. Said maybe someday.

Gunnar thought that was an insane idea.

Then again…

He had seen the way Mac and Heather had looked at each other. There was fire. If Heather was ever ready, he could see it happening between those two. Someday. There would probably be explosions involved, though.

Anything with Heather would be extreme.

He was just going to keep that thought to himself for now. If nothing else, it would be insane to watch.

Heather would make mincemeat out of Mac Barratt.

"I'm going outside to walk around a bit," he told Powell. He kissed her temple, not missing the approval in her mother's brown eyes. "I think I saw Dan out by the swings. I'm going to check that nothing is wrong."

"Is everything okay?"

"Probably. I'm just going to go check. See if he's looking for me. It's getting dark out. It might not have been him at all." And it wouldn't hurt to do a quick patrol around her parents' estate. Five acres plus a park right next door—big enough for someone to be hiding. Watching.

He'd check in with the guards, as well. Just to be on the safe side. He was never risking Powell again.

"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour," Melissa told him. "If Daniel would like, he can join us."

He knew what she was saying. They had been very angry with Daniel, but they were wanting to mend that fence. For Mac's sake. He and Daniel had been close friends for decades.

Mac was beyond just angry, though.

Nothing would ever be the same for any of them, but that didn't mean it was the end of everything. Gunnar knew better than that. Time was too short for those kinds of regrets. Good friends, family, they were what mattered most.

"I'll be right back. Don't start without me."

Powell watched him head out the side door. He was wearing jeans and an FCU T-shirt. It made him look far better than his TSP polos did—which was saying something. He still wore his gun openly, though. She suspected he always would. That Viking barbarian warrior of hers had a protector's soul. Through and through.

"Well. I see things are going nicely between you and the father of my grandbaby," her mother said.

"He's going to move in with me this weekend," Powell said, wrapping her arms around her mom from behind. "I mentioned rings. Me. I did."

"That's perfect. Beautiful." Her mom's eyes filled. "He's a wonderful man, Powell Melissa. And I think he loves you very much."

"I know. I love him, Mama. More than words can ever say. And I'm tired of being afraid. Relationships scare me. With men. I don't always know what to do or think or say. Or where I fit. We both know that. Well, even with my friends. But not with him. Not now. I made a promise to myself when I was…running away…that I was going to stop letting stupid fears keep me from trying. Because he means far too much to waste even another minute being afraid."

"Relationships are always scary. But they are also wonderful too. It hasn't always been easy between your father and me. I'm not sure it's ever easy for any couple, sweetheart. There is always something happening in life. Some type of conflict that makes the future uncertain and scary."

Powell just nodded. Uncertain and scary didn't really begin to cover it. "What if it doesn't work? How do you know?"

"Sweetheart, I have a friend from law school who just got divorced last week. His wife of forty years was caught with the pool boy, of all the stereotypical things. They have six kids and eighteen grandchildren, and she relocated to South Padre to run a flower stand. There are never any guarantees. But living without your father—well, I can't imagine what my life would have been like for all these years if I hadn't had him. Had all of you. Do you truly love this man?"

"More every day." And that was the scariest thing of all. She was so afraid she'd fail. That was what it was. Afraid she'd mess everything up and destroy what mattered most.

"Then, imagine what it would be like if you didn't have him. What would you want from your life then? Your business accomplishments, all the people you help—would it really be enough ?"

Powell just shook her head. "I want him. And I want this baby. And if we're good at this parenting thing, I want more kids too. And I want them with him."

"Then, baby girl, get your hiney out there and tell him. He deserves to know. Each day we live is one more we can't get back, sweetheart. Make them count. Just make them count. No matter what. You never know when they are going to be taken away."

"You have always been the smartest woman I have ever known."

"You'd better believe it. Now, go get your man. And then, when we get a chance, we'll explore this theory of Heather for your brother. Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense. And they would make the most beautiful babies together, wouldn't they? And I'd love for those two beautiful babies of hers to be my granddaughters, someday. The more I think about it, the more I love the idea. But how do we make it happen?"

Powell snickered. That look was in her mother's eyes now. Still, her brother deserved everything he got. He could be such a butthead sometimes.

But Mac and Heather—yes, she could so see that being really fun to watch. Someday. Her brother wouldn't stand a chance.