Текст книги "Forever with You"

Автор книги: Laurelin Paige

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Might as well find out what was up.

I opened my eyes and peered around the corner of the foyer toward the living area. It was empty. Not just empty as in no Hudson, but empty as in no furniture. None. I wandered into the room to be sure I wasn’t going crazy.

Well, if I were going crazy, the delusion I was having was of an apartment with no furniture. I glanced at the dining room. Also empty. Strangely, the place didn’t feel any more cold and lonely than it had when I’d been there the last time. But the emptiness put me off. I couldn’t understand what it meant. Was my stuff gone as well?

I backtracked and pushed the door open to the library. This room was only mostly empty. The sofa and desk and all the rest of the furniture were gone, but the shelves still contained all my books and movies. The books I’d pulled that Celia had marked were gone from the floor, but several boxes were stacked against the wall.

I walked toward the stack, intending to peek in and see if the books were there, but it was sealed.

“Those are new books.”

Ah, there he is.

I turned slightly to find Hudson leaning in the doorframe. Again he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Dammit, he hadn’t even planned on going to work if he was dressed like that. And he looked extra yummy. Somehow he had arranged that as well, I was sure of it.

He nodded again at the box I was still touching. “They’re for you. To replace the ones that had been damaged.”

“Oh,” I said. Then I frowned.

“What is it?”

“I have nowhere to put all these.” I hadn’t intended to take them. They were beautiful and I loved them, but in New York City, that many books were a luxury.

He sighed softly and I could tell the rejection of his gift hurt, no matter what the reason. But all he said was, “I’ll keep them for as long as you want me to.”

“Thank you.” I caught myself scanning his body. It was impossible not to. He was so good-looking, and I missed him so much. Though I’d planned my move on a day that he wouldn’t be around, I was happy to see him. Elated, actually.

I wondered if he could see that in my smile. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” I’m so glad you are.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t be.”

“It was implied,” I teased.

He caught my eyes with his. “You don’t seem that horribly pissed to see me.”

God, the butterflies were stirring in my belly. Not the tug of fixation that used to make me act crazy, but the twitters I felt only with Hudson. It had confused me when I first felt it those months ago, but now I recognized it for what it was—a combination of nerves and excitement and attraction and anticipation. It was such a gloriously delicious feeling.

Surprisingly, it eclipsed the still fresh wounds from his betrayal.

Still, I was scared. And I didn’t know what he was up to. His stuff was gone from the apartment. I didn’t like what that had to mean. What did it mean? “Where is everything?”

His lips drew tight. “Your stuff is still all here.”

“But where’s your stuff?”

With another deep breath, he threw his eyes to the window then brought them back to me. “I can’t live here without you, Alayna.”

“So you’re moving out?” I didn’t know how I felt about that.

Strike that, I did know. I didn’t like it. At all. The penthouse was where our real relationship had taken place. I hated the idea of someone else being in our space.

And Hudson moving out because I wasn’t there—that meant he didn’t really believe I’d ever be back.

I was too late. He was giving up on me.

But his next words tossed everything up in the air again. “Actually, I hope I’m moving in.”

The twists and turns of this interaction had me flustered and on edge. I had to call an emotional timeout before I broke down. “H, you confuse me enough without you trying to be confusing. Could you say something I can understand?”

“I confuse you?” His eyes sparkled with satisfaction.

“Is this a surprise?”

He shrugged.

“So you’re moving in?” I prompted. Dammit, why did he have to be so difficult?

Seeming to sense I was on my last nerve, he answered. “One day. I hope.” He rubbed his lips together—ah, I missed those sweet lips. “But for now, I want you to live here.”

“What?” One day a proposal, another live in my million dollar penthouse without me. The man certainly knew how to keep me on my toes.

He also had no idea what I really wanted or needed from him.

Hudson’s expression grew serious again. “I can’t live here without you, precious.” His words were soft and low, but I could hear him clearly. “But I don’t want to sell it, because I love being here with you. Someday, you and I will be here again. While I’m waiting for you—scratch that—while I’m groveling for your forgiveness, it’s a shame to let it sit empty. You and Liesl should move in.”

“I can’t accept that, H.” My eyes felt watery. But at least he’d said he wasn’t giving up on me.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He sighed, giving up much more easily than was characteristic. “Then it will have to sit.”

I bit back the urge to say we could live here together and offered instead, “You could rent it out.”

His brows rose. “I could rent it out to you.”

I laughed.

“Best rent in town—only cost you a weekly dinner with the landlord.”

“Stop it.” I was still smiling.

“Biweekly then. I’m not above bargaining.”

“Hudson.” He had no idea that he already had me sold. Not on moving in, but on the dates.

“Fine, monthly. I’ll take whatever scraps you’re willing to give me.” He studied me. “You’re considering giving me scraps now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” How did he read me so easily? And why was it so easy to be with him when he’d hurt me so deeply?

The question scared me, so I skirted the issue. “Seriously, though, where’s all your stuff? Did you get another place?” All his furniture wouldn’t fit in the loft.

He shook his head. “I gave it all to a charity fundraiser.”

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous.” Though I couldn’t say I’d miss any of it. It was beautiful furniture, but Celia had chosen it all. I was quite happy with the thought of the less fortunate benefitting from it.

It seemed Hudson felt the same. “I wasn’t attached to any of it.” He straightened and walked into the room, gesturing to the empty space. “This entire apartment was perfectly designed to my tastes and style, but it never felt like a home.” He stopped a couple feet from me. “Not until you, Alayna. You made it come alive. The things that were here—they were chosen for me by someone I want completely removed from my life. Right now, the things here are the only things that made this house a place I’d want to live. Your things. You.”

“I…” My throat was too tight to speak.

“And when I move back in, we can refurnish this place from scratch. Together. You and I.”

I took in a shuddering breath. “You’re so sure that one day I’ll take you back.” The outlook was getting better and better.

“I’m hopeful.” He smiled mischievously. “Would you like to see how hopeful I am?”

“Sure.” Really, all I wanted was for him to pull me into his arms. I was almost certain that was where we’d end up. But the game we were playing to get there was intriguing.

Hudson dug in his pocket and pulled out something small and silver. “I bought this.”

He held the object by the jewel so I couldn’t really see all of it at first, but when I realized what it was, my breath caught. Because it was a ring. The ring.

He dropped it in my palm for me to examine. It wasn’t silver after all—it was platinum, if I guessed right. And the jewel was surrounded by two tapered baguette stones that led the eye to a round, brilliantly cut diamond in the center. It was at least two and half carats, maybe three. Maybe even four, for all I knew.

Tears gathered in my eyes and bewilderment muddled my brain. He’d handed it to me—it wasn’t a proposal. What was this then? A way to mess with me?

“There’s an inscription,” Hudson said softly, as though he could read my confusion.

I blinked to clear my vision enough to read: I give you all of me.

Then he bent down on one knee.

It was a proposal.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe.

“I realized something about the last time I asked this,” he said from his place on the floor in front of me. “I did it wrong. First, I didn’t have a ring, and second, I should have gotten on one knee. But more importantly, I didn’t give you the right thing. I offered you everything I had, thinking that was the way to win your heart. That wasn’t what you wanted at all. The only thing you ever asked for, the only thing I would never give you, was me.”

A sob escaped my throat, but for the first time in days, it wasn’t a sorrowful sob.

“But now I do.” Hudson threw his arms out to the side. “Here I am, precious. I give myself freely. All of me, Alayna. No more walls or secrets or games or lies. I give you all of me, honestly. For forever, if you’ll take it.”

He took the ring from my grasp. With hands that were so steady compared to my shaky one, he slipped it on my finger.

I stared at it, shining brilliantly on my hand like a beacon in the darkness I’d been living in. Was he really asking me to marry him? Not elope, but marriage? Was this really something I could actually consider?

My plan to let him back into my life had been much simpler and less drastic—like a dinner and a movie type of thing. Not a proposal.

But that had always been Hudson. He moved fast and furiously, but when he truly wanted something, he committed with everything he had. If I said no, if I turned him away, I knew without a doubt he’d ask again and again. And again.

That wasn’t a reason to accept a marriage proposal.

The reason to accept was because I loved Hudson Pierce with every fiber of my being. Even his flaws and imperfections attracted me to him. They made him who he was. And I wanted all of him. I wanted to give him all of me.

And he had a lot of making up to do to me. Forever might just be the only way he’d get it covered.

“Alayna, I love you.” He drew my gaze from the ring to his eyes—his wildly intense, passionate eyes that shown brighter than the diamond on my hand. “Will you marry me? Not today, and not in Vegas, but in a church if you like, or at Mabel Shores in the Hamptons—”

Somehow I found my voice. “Or the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens during the cherry blossom season?”

“Yes, there.” His eyes widened. “Is that a—”

“Yes,” I nodded. “It’s a yes.”

Hudson pulled me onto his knee and into his arms faster than I could blink. “Say it again.”

“Yes,” I whispered, placing my hand on his cheek. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His lips found mine, and it was like a first kiss—soft and tentative. Then our mouths parted and our tongues met and the kiss gathered from a fragile breeze into a raging storm. One of his hands tangled in my hair, the other cupped my face, holding me as if he feared I wouldn’t stay, as if I might disappear.

And the way I held him was the same. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clutching onto him with all my strength. When our kiss began to metamorphosis into something bigger, something that required more of our body to be touching, and less of our clothing to be on, he grabbed his hand around my thigh, lifting it around his waist as he stood. I threw my other leg around him, hooking my ankles together at his backside and bucked my hips, rubbing against his crotch.

Damn, I’d missed this. Missed him—all of him. His touch was searing, his kiss burned me to my core. And the solidness of his body, his strong arms, his muscled chest—he was my foundation. Sturdy and fixed. Permanent.

Permanently mine.

We were halfway down the hall, our lips still locked when I realized I had no idea where he was taking me. If the house was empty, did it matter that we made it to the bedroom?

Asking, though, would require me to let go of his tongue, and the growl he made as I sucked on it made that not an option I wanted to consider.

I got my answer soon enough anyway. Hudson pushed into our bedroom and in my peripheral vision I saw on the floor, minus the bedframe, our mattress.

He toed his shoes off and then dropped with me onto the bed.

“You left the mattress?” I asked while he pulled my shirt over my head.

His shirt disappeared quickly after. “I picked it out myself. Besides, I couldn’t bear to part with it. It has too many memories.”

Yes, it does.

And more to be made. A lifetime of them, in fact. Oh my god, a lifetime with Hudson.

He bent down to nip my breast through my bra, bringing me sharply back to the present.

I moaned breathily. “Are you sure you weren’t simply—” I moaned again as he nipped my other breast. “—being prepared for me to say yes?”

His mouth returned to mine. “There may have been a little bit of that,” he said against my lips, his hands reaching behind me to undo the clasp of my bra.

“You know me so well, don’t you?”

He grinned and lowered his gaze to my breasts newly released from captivity. “I want to know you better.” He licked around one taut nipple. “I want to know you better right now. God, I’ve missed your gorgeous body.”

And god, how I’d missed the things he did to it. Was there a manual somewhere entitled How to Please Alayna? If so, Hudson had surely memorized the thing. More likely, he’d written it. He knew how to please me better than I knew how to please myself.

As he teased and taunted my breasts, making me dizzy with desire, I reached down to cup his erection through his jeans. The warmth of it, the hardness, even through the thick denim material, had a geyser going off in my panties.

I stroked along the length of his imprisoned cock. “I remember this.”

“Uh-uh. First we’re focusing on you.” He already had a hand traveling beneath the band of my yoga pants, determined to prove his point.

“But I like this.” I petted him again. “There should definitely be some of this.”

“Oh, there will be a whole lot of this.” He bucked into my palm then turned his attention back to what his hand was doing. What his hand was doing so well. His thumb had settled on my clit, swirling across it with expert pressure.

I wiggled underneath him, wishing I was naked and that he was naked and that we were to the next part where he was inside me. I was desperate for that.

But Hudson made me wait. He dipped a finger inside me and I gasped.

“Jesus, Alayna. You’re so wet. Do you know how hard that makes me? You’re so wet and juicy that I’m tempted to lick you clean. But I’m anxious and missing you and I need my cock inside you as soon as possible. Tasting you will have to wait until the next round.”

“Next round?” I was a bit delirious with the awesomeness of this round.

He added a second finger, bending them so that they rubbed against that magic spot that only Hudson ever knew how to find. Quickly my belly tightened and my legs began to quiver.

“You’re so turned on—you’re going to come fast, aren’t you, precious?”

That was all it took to push me over. Pleasure washed over me in a tidal wave, and I let out a moan, digging my fingers into his back as he continued to rub me and finger me until the last spasm trembled through me.

Hudson sucked the lobe of my ear and then praised me. “Good girl. You’re so fucking sexy when you come. It makes me so hard my cock throbs.”

Fuck, his mouth alone was going to send me over again.

Hudson removed his hand from my pussy and pulled off my pants and underwear. “Remember our first night in the Hamptons? When I made love to you so many times that you were sore the next day?”

“How could I forget?” I watched in a haze as he stripped out of his jeans and briefs. His cock sprung free, harder and thicker than I’d ever remembered it being.

Hudson Pierce naked.

I had to swallow. Twice. There wasn’t any sight on Earth that compared to the mouth-watering deliciousness in front of me.

And it was all mine. Forever.

Hudson climbed on top of me, covering me with his body. “That night is going to pale in comparison to today, precious. Today, I’m going to make love to you sweetly and tenderly. Then I’m going to fuck you so long and hard, your beautiful pussy is going to be raw. You won’t be able to stand, let alone walk. After that, I’m going to go down on you until you’re shivering and coming all over my tongue. And then we’ll do it all again.”

My pussy clenched at the promises being made. “You’re such a big talker.”

“I sure hope that wasn’t a challenge,” he said, settling between my thighs. “Because if it was, game on.”

Now that was a game I didn’t mind that he played.

I wrapped my legs around Hudson, ready for him to enter me. But he paused, his tip grazing my opening.

“Hurry.” I tilted my hips up, prodding him. “I want you inside.”

He ran a hand through my hair and laid a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Patience, precious. We have time, and I need to feel you.”

He slid into me then, slowly and with great patience. I cried out at the agonizing sweetness as he filled me and stretched me and buried his cock inside of me. When I thought he couldn’t possibly go any further, he bent my thighs up toward my chest and pushed in more.

Ah, he was throbbing. I could feel him pulse against my walls as he sank deeper, deeper.

“You feel so good, precious.” He pulled out ever so slightly and thrust back in with a circle of his hips. “Rough, gentle—how do you want me?”

“You’re giving me a say?” I blinked up at him.

His lip curled up slightly at the edge. “This time.”

I loved him every way he gave himself to me. The only thing that mattered was that he did. “You decide. I trust you.”

And I did trust him. Maybe not at the level that I could or once did, but we were a work in progress. We had time.

He seemed to like that answer. His eyes melted and his face softened. As he moved inside me, he clasped my hands in his and leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you, Alayna. My precious. My love.”

We danced together, enjoying each other, loving each other as we took each other higher and higher. Pleasing each other in the ways we’d learned in the past and in new ways as well. It wasn’t exactly sweet and it wasn’t exactly rough and it wasn’t exactly frenzied or passionate or gentle even—but it was all of that, rolled together. It was everything. And it was exactly perfect.

Epilogue

April

She’s the most beautiful bride that’s ever graced the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. Hell, she’s the most beautiful bride that’s ever graced the Earth. I can’t keep my eyes off her. Her dress hugs her gorgeous tits and her slim hips then trains out behind her. And the corset style in the back is fuck hot. I can’t wait to undress her later. Though, when I finally get the chance, I have a feeling those ties will be more frustrating than sexy.

Though sometimes the frustration is half the fun.

And it’s necessary. “Without struggle there is no progress,” Alayna loves to tell me. It’s a quote she learned in her counseling that she feels suits us fairly frequently. She’s said it so many times in the last nine months that I was almost surprised it wasn’t embroidered on our wedding napkins.

Honestly, the truth that lies in that simple statement is astounding. Though I am a man of commitment, a man who doesn’t walk away from a challenge, I am the first to admit that the road from our engagement to our wedding was paved with boulders and potholes. Even though she said yes on that day back in August, there were many times I’m sure she was tempted to break it off afterward. Moments when I shut down and forgot how to let her in. Days when I pushed her away because I believed that I could never be worthy of her love.

Then there was the biggest issue of all—trust. I’d shattered every ounce of trust that existed between us, and rebuilding it took time. And therapy. Not just for myself, but for us as a couple. I’d thought working out my own problems was hard. Adding another person to the mix added a whole new dimension of struggle.

There was so much healing to be done, wounds that threatened to never scar over. Embracing Alayna’s obsessive tendencies was natural for me, but I have had to learn how to not overly attach myself to her jealousies and insecurities. It can become enabling and as much as it’s a turn-on to have her need me, I love her all the more when she’s whole on her own. When she’s strong and confident.

My healing has been much more tenuous. Abandoning the game I’d played for a lifetime proved the easiest part. With Alayna in my life, I have no desire to be cruel and heartless like that again. But my inclination to manipulate and master runs deeper. I don’t even recognize when I’m molding a situation to my whims. Alayna, kind and forgiving woman that she is, often doesn’t point out when I’m wielding and dominating. A great deal of the time, she even likes it. But she also doesn’t wish to give too much power to my weaknesses. So she calls me on it more and more, and I in turn attempt to let go. To let things run their natural course.

That has been the most difficult part for me, the hardest component of recovery.

But the progress has been amazing. We wouldn’t be here today if it hadn’t been for the steps we took together to strengthen our relationship. And while I’m sure the struggle isn’t over simply because I’ve slipped a ring on her finger, we know that we’re worth the fight.

She’s worth the fight.

Look what my reward has been? Even without our wedding vows, she’s mine. And I’m hers. Completely and absolutely.

The ceremony was simple—that’s how she wanted it, and her wish is my command. Mirabelle and Liesl and Gwen, who has become a surprisingly good friend to Alayna, stood as her bridesmaids. Their pale pink dresses exactly matched the blossoms on Alayna’s veil and in the garden. How Mirabelle managed that, I’ll never know. I’ll thank her later for her contributions to my wife’s day.

My wife.

I’ll never get tired of saying that—wife. Who would have believed that I’d ever have one of those? I’d never been a man who intended to marry. My mother and father didn’t present a pretty picture of matrimony, and I had no understanding of the concept of romantic love. It took Alayna to teach it to me. She’s been the best teacher possible—patient and forgiving beyond what I deserve.

She hates it when I say that about myself—that I’m undeserving, and I suppose it’s the same way I feel when she talks destructively about her own past. The difference, of course, is that her weaknesses and imperfections didn’t almost destroy us as mine did. There are days it’s hard to live with myself because of the lie that I wrapped her in. She soothes me then, fixing me with her love. “We would never have found each other if it weren’t for your game,” she tells me.

I don’t believe that, though. I would have always found her.

Always. Without a doubt.

It’s not an exaggeration when I say I fell for her at first sight. If anything, I downplay. Not on purpose. The effect she had on me is simply beyond words, and when I attempt to voice it, the true experience becomes abridged and reduced. In all honesty, the woman who stood on that stage left me speechless. Her business ideas were only part of it. They were sound and innovative, but really, there are bright, intelligent up-and-comers around every corner. This went beyond that. I can’t even pinpoint if it was her mannerisms or her pattern of speaking or the shocking depth to her chocolate brown eyes. Whatever it was, there was a definite recognition of her soul by mine. An awareness of something greater that tied us to each other upon first acquaintance. As if some part of me had always known she was out there, had been waiting for her to come and bring me to life.

It took me quite some time to label that as love. At first, I didn’t know what it was. And now that I do, I still hesitate to call it that since the word fails to express the multi-dimensional way I feel for her. But it’s the nearest thing I have, and I say it to her now as often as I can. Then I try to tell her what I really mean by that simple four-letter verb. That not only does my world revolve around her, but she is my world. That she’s not just my reason for breathing, she’s air itself. That she’s the meaning behind every one of my thoughts, every thrum of my pulse, every whisper of my conscience. She’s my entire everything. It’s as simple and as complex as that.

I don’t know that she’ll ever understand, but I’ll happily spend my lifetime trying to show her.

I gaze around the crowd of people that have shown up to celebrate our special day and think it’s funny how, now that I know what it means to love and be loved, I see it everywhere. In the way that Adam tends to the baby and tags along behind Mirabelle as she flits from one person to another. In the way my father held my mother’s hand during the ceremony. In the tender look that Brian had for his younger sister when he gave her to me to wed. Has there always been all this love in the world? How have I never seen it before Alayna Withers showed up in my life?

Alayna Pierce now. Doesn’t that have a nice ring?

She’s coming to me now, and my grin widens. I haven’t stopped smiling since she walked down that aisle. I’m sure I look ridiculous.

“Hey, handsome,” she says in that lusty voice of hers that makes my cock twitch. “It’s time for the first dance.”

I let her lead me to the center of the Esplanade. It’s impressive how fast the crew we hired transposed the ceremony arrangement to a reception area. We could have moved to the Atrium or another venue all together as our wedding planner suggested, but Alayna wanted the whole event to be outdoors among the blossoms. It was a good decision. The Brooklyn Botanic Society doesn’t usually rent out the whole garden for weddings. It’s amazing what they’ll do for a large donation.

The emcee announces our first dance as I pull my bride into my arms. “What will our first dance be to, Mrs. Pierce?”

I know nothing she has planned for the reception. Alayna took care of all the wedding details. I offered to help, but she preferred to surprise me. The tables will be turned when I get her on the plane to our honeymoon destination. She has no idea that we’ll be staying in a private cabana in the Maldives Islands for three weeks. I’d considered Italy or Greece—both locations that she’s mentioned wanting to visit—but out of my own selfishness, I chose a tropical setting. It will be easier to keep her naked on a private beach than at the site of an ancient ruin or in an art museum.

“Patience, Mr. Pierce.” She’s always so good at throwing my own lines back to me.

The music starts and I smile. All of Me. Of course.

She snuggles into my arms and I bury my head in her neck, breathing in the scent of her. Her cherry body wash mingles with the blossoms in the air, but none of it can completely cover up the delicious aroma of Alayna’s skin—a combination of salt and sweet that I can’t describe but would recognize anywhere.

Though I want to hold her and enjoy her in this tender first dance as a married couple, I feel that I’ve had so little chance to talk to her today, and I can’t stop myself from doing so now. “It’s a beautiful wedding, Alayna. You did an excellent job.”

I feel her cheek tug into a smile at my shoulder. “Thank you. I had a lot of help, thanks to your money.”

“Our money,” I correct. As I’d promised the first time I asked her to marry me, I demanded no prenup. What’s mine is hers, openly and without question. I wonder if she’ll ever get used to it.

“Our money,” she concedes. “And it’s going well, I think.”

“Very well.” Very well, indeed.

“Did you notice Chandler’s been following Gwen around like a lost puppy?”

I had noticed. Though there’s too much lust in his eye for me to understand the puppy comparison. “She doesn’t seem to mind.” Gwen’s gaze also holds a degree of desire. Can Alayna see it?

“No, she doesn’t.” Alayna giggles. She does see it, then. “And everyone seems happy.”

“Everyone does at that.” And I’m the happiest.

She places a kiss on my neck that sends a jolt to my cock. “Even your mother has managed to remain polite.”

The mention of my mother has me limp. “She does seem slightly more in control of herself now that she’s sober.” Sophia’s only been home from upstate since January. She missed Mirabelle’s baby’s birth, something that I believe she regrets deeply, but she’s better now than she was, and I believe even Sophia thinks the sacrifice is worth it. “She still is a nasty old bitch, though, isn’t she?”

Alayna laughs, her hair tickling my neck with the movement, the sound tickling my heart with its purity. “You said it, not me.”

I hold her tighter and kiss her temple. This is everything I ever needed and never knew I wanted, wrapped up in the most beautiful of packages. Well, not quite everything. There’s still one thing left on the list.

I broach the subject I’ve been avoiding in a passive way. Perhaps it’s manipulative, but it’s who I am. “I saw you with Arin Marise, earlier. You’re so good with her.”

Arin Marise Sitkin is Adam and Mirabelle’s baby. My sister insists that she gave her daughter a name that couldn’t be shortened so that I’ll call her what everyone else calls her. But I’ve taken to calling her Arin Marise just to rile her up. She’s five and a half months old now, all cheeks and grins. Arin’s petite like her mother but feisty. You only notice her small stature in comparison to Braden, Alayna’s nephew who’s only four months old, but almost twice as big as Arin.

Alayna and I have never talked about children, not about our children, anyway. I’ve seen her with Arin and Braden and fallen in love with her all over again with the care and gentleness she gives them, but I’ve never brought up the actual topic. Perhaps it scared me, but it doesn’t scare me now. Not now that I know she’s mine truly and deeply no matter how this conversation goes.

I pull back from our embrace to look in her eyes, thinking I should probably put this off until a more appropriate time, but unable to wait another second to ask. “Do you…” I begin then start over. “Have you thought about children of your own?”

She leans forward to kiss my throat then, with her eyes cast down, says tentatively, “I’d probably fuck them up.”

That had always been my fear, and if it weighs too heavily on her, I’ll abandon the whole idea. I kiss her head again and then ask outright, “Would you like to fuck them up with me?”