Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) (37 page)

Everything looks about done, so I hop off the counter and grab the necessary plates and utensils, setting the table for two. Ean brings in a platter of fruit, plate of bacon, a bowl of eggs, and another plate bearing buttered toast. Yeah, I’m totally swooning over Ean right now.

We dig in and eat in silence for a while, then when we’re about finished, I decide to start off light and remember that I never gave him a hard time about that night at the bar. “So, you thought you could just skip the asking part and go right to the ‘we’re together part,’ huh? What is that? Some kind of assumptive close?” I ask casually. I’m watching Ean’s face carefully and when he looks right at me, there is the slightest tinge of pink on it. I’m laughing inside but I’m careful to keep it from showing. I don’t want to hurt his ego too much since I’m about to bust his balls.

“What makes you think that was my plan?” he asks, warily. At my sardonic lift of an eyebrow, he nods and rolls his eyes. “Let me guess, Aden told Shaylee, who told you?”

I answer with a grin and he shakes his head, resignation on his face, “That boy is so whipped. We’ve officially lost the bro code. Nothing is sacred anymore.” He pouts and returns his attention to his food.

I laugh at his dramatics but use them as a catalyst to start the conversation that needs to happen. “Speaking of whipped,” I start.

Ean’s eyes fly to mine, his face shocked, but I don’t miss the twinkle in his blues. “I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing,” he admits, impressively keeping his astonished façade solidly in place.

I stare at him with a deadpan expression until he cracks and starts laughing. “Are you done?” I ask.

He’s still sniggering as he stands and starts to gather our dishes. I rise to help, but he waves me away. “I know we need to talk, baby. You go relax on the couch and let me take care of this mess, then I’ll join you.” Grabbing the plate in my hands, he drops a kiss on my forehead, and shoos me away. It seems surreal to be seeing this side of him again. It’s been so long and I was truly terrified that this Ean—my Ean—was lost forever. I consider pinching myself to see if this is real but then I remember how stupid that saying it. What makes humans think that if you’re pinched in a dream, you won’t feel it? I mean, if someone can fall off of a building in a dream and actually die, then it stands to reason that you’d feel a little pinch, right? I have no prejudice against humans, but sometimes the stuff they think up is just so nonsensical.

When Ean plops down beside me, I realize I’d wandered over to the sofa and sat down, lost in my thoughts. I curl up against the arm of the couch, facing him, and tuck my feet up under me. He grabs my hand and starts playing with my fingers, absentmindedly, while studying me. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot to say, and a lot of questions. And, if you need to yell, scream, hit, whatever, I totally deserve it, and I’ll take it like a man,” he says this with a perfectly straight face and my laughter bubbles up. I smile and his lips automatically lift, then he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses each finger.

Once again, I’m struck by the dreamlike quality of this moment. “Is this real? Or is this just happening in my head?” The movie quote slips out almost unconsciously, just musing to myself, so I’m taken off guard when Ean answers, “Of course it is happening inside your head, baby, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” He’s smirking at me, but under the smugness is a little pride.

“I can’t believe you knew that quote,” I chortle, “We watched
Harry Potter,
what? Like two years ago?” Ean doesn’t say anything, just smiles and looks down, suddenly very interested in my fingers. I lean forward and take hold of his chin, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Ean?” I’m confused by his reaction.

“You really love those movies.” I nod, but it’s not a question, so I keep quiet. “Um, I might have—might have watched them a few times since we broke up.” He is adorably embarrassed and I throw my arms around him, squeezing him in a big bear hug.

“You’re ridiculously cute,” I confess. He beams at me, but his face falls slightly when I shake my head and point my finger at him, “We’ll get back to that. First, let’s address the fact that you were a colossal tool and why you’ve suddenly pulled a Dr. Jekyll.”

Ean sighs and drops his head back against the couch. “The answer to the first part is because I
am
a colossal tool. The second is because someone said something that got me thinking. Thinking that maybe Fate was right,” he says this with his lips curled in disgust. I roll my eyes at his pitiful attitude. Male vanity—I swear, it’s the reason God invented the woman. “She told me to get my head out of my ass and I did. I’ll always harbor guilt for what happened with Rònan, but I’d already come to the realization that you are my home, my place of peace, and I was trying to decide how to get you back when we left for Ireland. Then, while we were there, and I saw you working with Cuirealan, I was just astounded by you. I’ve always known you were amazing, Laila. But, I’m exceptionally sorry for underestimating you and for not realizing how belittling that was. It opened my eyes even further and showed me that you and I are a team, and we couldn’t ever hold each other back because we are only our best selves when we are a together.”

Laila’s emerald eyes are shining and brimming with emotion. “I’m glad you finally figured it out.” The light in her expression dims. “What happens next time?”

She doesn’t have to specify her question, I know what she’s implying. We have an eternity before us and we can’t save them all. There will always be some situation that we run into and walk away feeling like a failure. She’s afraid I’ll pull away again, abandon her. As if I could ever be without her again, there is nothing that I will ever allow to take her away from me.

I cup her face in my hands and softly kiss her. “Laila, I love you, with everything that I am and right now, I’m promising you forever. You know I believe it, that I’m committed to it. But, baby, there are no guarantees about what is in our future. We just have to choose to face it side by side and believe that it’s enough.” I close my eyes and nuzzle our noses together, then look back into her bottomless green eyes. “What do you think? Will you take the risk of loving me for eternity, even if there is a chance that we may not get our happily ever after?”

“Ean, there is no such thing as happily ever after, there is only this moment, right now, and if you’re happy, then who cares about the next one?”

I’M STANDING IN THE
kitchen making dinner for my girl when I hear the sound of her laughter as she walks through the door to our apartment. Popping my head out the door into the foyer, her face lights up when she sees me and she makes a beeline over to give me a kiss.

I fucking love having her come home to me. I was a little worried that she’d be hesitant to move forward too fast after everything I put her through. It seems she was completely serious about living for the future without letting the past get in the way, because when I grew a pair of balls and asked her to move in with me (so it was the very next day, So, what?), she jumped on my lap and smothered me with kisses. I’ve decided to take the “yes” that she was screaming shortly after as her answer. She’s been here with me every day for three months now and I can’t even remember what it was like without her.

I return to the stove and grab the grilled chicken that was warming in the oven, taking it to the table. She comes around the corner and over to the dining area, just as I’m pouring wine into our glasses.

“Hey, baby.” She comes straight over to me and I envelope her in my arms. One soul-stealing, hot-as-fuck, kiss later, I ask about what was so funny.

“Shaylee is pregnant!” She dissolves into giggles and I laugh my ass off right along with her. “She is so pissed.”

“I would have given my left nut to be there when she found out.” I screw up my face at the image, “Ok, maybe not
right there.
”

“Apparently, when she told Aden, all he said was, ‘oops.’ I had to talk her down from taking the girls and spending the weekend at her grandparent’s house.” Laila laughs.

“I guess he hasn’t told her about all the brothers he intends to have, to smother the girls so they’ll never go on a date. Ever.”

Laila stops laughing and I suddenly realize I’ve made a huge mistake. “You can’t—fuck! Laila, don’t you dare tell her.” Aden is going to kick my ass from Mivo to Timbuck-fucking-too.
Shit! Shit!
She’s sitting to my right at the table, so she leans across to place a kiss on my lips, but she’s patting my hand condescendingly, a sympathetic smile on her face. I give her a stern look, but get distracted by those gorgeous emerald pools. Whatever, Aden is on his own. I tuck a piece of hair behind a delicate little ear and whisper, “I love you.”

She beams as though the whole of the sun rests in her soul. “No more than I love you.”