**Chapter 8** **GABRIELLA** “I’m afraid I can’t manage another bite,” I confessed, letting out a soft sigh as I leaned back in my chair, overwhelmed by the mountain of food that Caleb had ordered. It was as if he had prepared a feast fit for royalty. I couldn't even remember when I had indulged to this extent—if I ever had. Yet, amidst my overindulgence, a sense of tranquility enveloped me, a rare luxury in my tumultuous life. “But we haven’t even touched dessert yet,” Caleb teased, lifting the lid off a lavish piece of chocolate cake that practically glistened with temptation. “Oh no,” I exclaimed, my lips instinctively quivering at the thought. “Chocolate cake is my absolute weakness.” “Is that so?” he replied with a smirk that made it evident he might have already known this about me. Perhaps I had shared my fondness for chocolate during one of our countless conversations at the coffee shop. Caleb had a way of drawing me out, allowing me to ramble freely, something I rarely encountered with anyone else. His genuine interest was invigorating, as if I were the only person in the room. He took a dainty bite from the fork, angled it toward me, and I found myself obliging, opening my mouth as if it were an instinct. The moment the rich, velvety flavor hit my taste buds, I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of delight, my worries momentarily forgotten. “What inspired you to become a nanny?” he asked, taking another bite for himself. Ah, here we go again. I had skimmed over my job’s specifics earlier. The coffee shop chatter had taken precedence, and avoiding this topic had proven surprisingly easy… until now. Admittedly, my current position wasn’t exactly a dream come true, but the joy of interacting with children kept me tethered to the role. “I like kids,” I replied simply, deciding to be honest. “What about you?” I found myself imagining Caleb cradling a baby, which seemed oddly surreal considering his usual sharp-dressed demeanor. Today, however, he was clad in more relaxed attire, and the transformation somehow made him appear warmer. “Like kids?” He chewed thoughtfully, savoring the cake. “I suppose they’re alright.” “Really? So, you do like kids?” I asked, my curiosity peaking, an unbidden hope rising within me. It was strange how much this simple inquiry mattered when it really shouldn’t, but it did. “I’ve never given it much thought,” he admitted with a shrug. “Being an only child and a self-proclaimed workaholic hasn’t left me much room for little ones in my life.” For a fleeting moment, I recalled the distant way he’d spoken about his family during our previous chats. “Is that why you’re drawn to being a nanny? Does your affinity for children stem from that?” “Kids and babies are refreshingly honest,” I found myself explaining, my passion for the subject spilling out uncontrollably. “Whenever I entered a home filled with little ones, they always brought joy to my heart.” “You moved around a lot, didn’t you?” Caleb’s eyes held a softness that momentarily buoyed my spirits as I nodded, swallowing the weight of my past. “Honestly,” I confessed, toying with the edges of my napkin, “I believe I’m quite good with kids. I think I’d excel as a nanny, though I worry that might just be self-deception.” I glanced at him, searching for his reaction as I continued, “What I truly want is to have my own children, but I don’t know if that’s destined for me.” It was more than just a fleeting thought; I craved the entire package—a family, memories, a love that transcended time. I shared this truth with Caleb, my heart racing at the prospect of scaring him off. Conversations about children had freaked out men in the past—at least, that’s what I’d heard. Caleb’s expression remained an enigma, his face a stoic mask. “Why isn’t it in the cards for you?” he queried, his voice steady. “I’m homeless and jobless,” I reminded him, loathing the bitterness that clung to those words. It felt as if I were forever navigating a path strewn with setbacks—three steps forward, two steps back. “You’re not homeless anymore, Gabriella.” With a gentle reach, he tucked one of my wild curls behind my ear, igniting a delightful shiver down my spine. “True, but I certainly won’t be having babies in this situation.” I attempted a light-hearted joke, but Caleb’s inscrutable gaze reaffirmed my concern. “Perhaps we could discuss the decorations instead?” I quickly suggested, eager to escape the growing tension that bubbled within me, especially in light of the kisses we had shared. “Do what you like,” he replied, lifting another forkful of cake to my lips, and without hesitation, I savored it, realizing how easily I succumbed to his offerings. “This includes having babies if that’s what you wish.” “Caleb,” I protested, shaking my head as I stood up, preparing to tidy the table. But before I could finish, he swept me into his lap, interrupting my thoughts entirely. “I would have babies with you. If you were my girl, my wife,” he declared matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You can’t just say things like that,” I whispered, the gravity of his words striking me with a mix of exhilaration and disbelief. “I can say anything I wish. I often do,” he replied with a confident grin. I searched his gaze, searching for a hint of the uncertainty that often accompanied such declarations. “But we barely know each other, and I might technically work for you now.” “Let’s not get caught up in the technicalities. We can unravel those mysteries together, and what could be a better way to do that than by living under the same roof?” “Are you suggesting we could be more? That we might have a future together?” “I’d give you just about anything you asked for, Gabriella.” In that moment of candor, I felt drawn to him with an intensity I had never known before. Leaning in, I pressed my lips to his, and he responded warmly, weaving his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer until the boundaries between us began to dissolve. I’d lost track of time, savoring every heartbeat as our kiss deepened. “Sleep with me tonight,” Caleb murmured as we finally pulled apart, his breath mingling with mine in the cozy atmosphere. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want you beside me.” “Really?” I asked incredulously. “How is a man like you still single?” “Come on.” He stood, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “Come on?” I laughed, realizing I had little choice as he headed toward his bedroom. “You’re already making the move. What say do I even have?” “Clearly, you’re not protesting.” He set me down gently on the sumptuous bed, which felt like a cloud against my skin, and I marveled at the stunning view through the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the bustling city below. “You could put a tree in that corner too,” I suggested, gesturing toward an empty space that housed a few plush chairs and a fireplace. “I told you, you can do anything you like,” he replied, watching my excitement unfold. “You spoil me,” I said softly, allowing myself to fall back against the cushions, feeling completely at ease for the first time in a long while. “Gabriella,” Caleb prompted, and I turned to meet his gaze, sensing something significant. “Oh, right,” I said, sheepishly pulling my shirt down to conceal my stomach, where the reddish mark from the coffee disaster earlier still lingered. Without hesitation, Caleb leaned over me, his expression shifting into one of concern as he pushed my shirt back up slightly. “Is this from that incident at the coffee shop?” he asked, brushing his fingers over the mark gingerly. “Yeah,” I admitted, feeling a rush of vulnerability. Had I mentioned why I had been fired? I often rambled, and I couldn't be sure. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” “I don’t like it,” he said fiercely, glaring at the mark as if his ire could erase it. “It’ll fade by tomorrow,” I reassured him. “I just have sensitive skin.” “Don’t downplay it. You shouldn’t try to brush it aside,” he said, his voice holding an earnestness that caused my heart to flutter. For years, I had learned to endure without allowing my struggles to anchor me. I hadn’t had any other choice but to push through. “I want you to be honest with me, always.” “Okay,” I agreed softly, recognizing the weight of his words. I doubted I could deny Caleb anything; nor did I wish to.