Diane's POV
The drive back from the house felt like a dream I didn't want to wake from. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still see Noah's hands as he assembled the toddler beds, the way his shirt had stretched across his shoulders as he reached for the wall decals. The memory of our kiss on the doorstep made my lips tingle all over again, and I found myself touching them absently as we pulled into Joan's driveway.
"Thank you," I whispered as Noah helped me out of the car, his hand lingering on mine just a moment longer than necessary.
"For what?" he asked, those dark eyes searching mine.
"For making today perfect. For making me feel like I'm not doing this alone anymore."
His smile was soft, devastating. "You're never alone, Diane. Not as long as I'm breathing."
