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“I’m telling everyone. Besides, Jax knows, right? Which means Eli has to know too. And if those two know, then Rose and Soph probably do by extension. So really, that only leaves Haisley, your brother, my family and your crew at the shop, right?”
“Peyton.” I groan, catching her wrist and tugging her down beside me.
She lands half on top of me with another burst of laughter, and I kiss the corner of her mouth because I can't help myself. Her smile softens against my lips before she kisses me back, slow and sweet.
“I'm getting it printed on mugs for the shop,” she murmurs when we part.
“My own girlfriend is blackmailing me with a raccoon. How original.”
She beams. “Correction: your very funny girlfriend.”
The words settle between us. Neither of us rushes to take them back. I blink at her, waiting for panic to surface. For one of us to laugh it off or call it a joke. It never comes. Instead, she looks at me and smiles, all hopeful.
“So…” she starts, searching my face. “Girlfriend?”
“If you'll have me.”
“I was kind of hoping you were about to ask.”
A laugh escapes me, quieter this time. “Will you be my girlfriend, sweetheart?”
“Of course I will, handsome.” Peyton steals another kiss as if sealing an agreement. “I really like being here,” she admits.
“In my bed?”
“With you.”
I don't think there's a difference anymore, to be honest. I like her hair on my pillow and her glasses on my nightstand. I like that my tattoos aren't just mine anymore because she knows the stories behind them. I like that she's seen me in more ways than anyone has before, and nothing about the way she looks at me suggests she's getting ready to leave.
“I like you being here,” I say. “Maybe too much.”
She tilts her head in that adorable way she often does. “Too much?”
“Enough that it scares me.”
Her hand finds mine beneath the blanket, giving it a squeeze. “Me too.”
“We’ll go slow,” I tell her.
“We already failed at that a little.”
“Maybe. We should probably talk about how this, um, affects you being Tilly’s nanny.”
A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face. “Are you firing me?”
“What? No. God, no. I was just thinking…”
“If it helps,” she starts softly, “I never needed the money. I have a trust fund that will last me a lifetime and more. I was planning to donate every paycheck to a local women's shelter in Tilly's name once I stopped working for you.”
I stare at her, completely thrown. Not because she has a trust fund, but because she's decided every paycheck belonged to someone who needed it more. She truly is extraordinary, and I fall even harder for her.
“That’s the most Peyton thing I've ever heard,” I say.
Relief softens her shoulders. “Then it’s settled; I keep taking care of Tilly until you find someone else.”
“You mean until we find someone else?”
Her lips twitch. “Whatever you say, boss.”
