Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“It’s all good. I told you to stop worrying.”
“I know. I just feel bad one of you is going to have to sleep on the pullout, while Aubrey and I each have a big comfy beds.”
“Next trip, we’ll have our own room, the boys can share, and Bre can get a room for herself. They probably wouldn’t care now, but I want to give it—”
“I agree with you,” I say, cutting him off. “It’s too soon.”
He steps toward me, getting in my space, and I lean my head back to look up at him.
“Sooner than later, I want you and Hunter at my house. I want you in my bed, next to me at night.”
“You don’t have a spare room.” I point out quietly, and he dips his face closer to mine.
“Then we’ll sleep over at your place.”
“Do you think Steven will be okay with that?” I ask softly resting my hands against his chest.
“He’ll be okay.” He slides a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Hunter is one of his buds now, and he loves the way you are with Aubrey. I know it’s taking longer for him to warm—”
“I get it,” I interrupt him. “I love that he loves his mom and is loyal to her. I know this isn’t easy for him, but he’s been awesome, really awesome about everything.”
“We have time to figure this all out, but I don’t want to wait a year either. The kids start school soon, and when they go back and winter rolls in, things around town slow down. I’d like to have some kind of plan in place before the first snow falls.”
“Are you talking about moving in together?” I ask as my eyes widen.
He sits on the side of the bed and takes hold of my hips, settling me between his spread thighs. “Moving in together, putting my place on the market.” He slides his hands up under my shirt. “Unless you want to move in with me. If we did that, Hunter and Steven would have to share a room. I don’t really want to do that to either of them. I’d like them to each have their own space. You have three more bedrooms than I got in my house, so it makes sense for us to move in with you.”
“You’re serious?” I breathe, and his head tilts to the side, studying me.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think this qualifies as going slow,” I point out, and he grins.
“It’s slow to me.”
“What if things go bad?” I ask, and he pulls me impossibly closer.
“I don’t see that happening, but if it makes you feel more secure, we can rent out my place for the winter to the skiers who come in, make some money off it, and save the cash for our wedding.”
“Now you’re talking about marriage?” I feel my eyes go impossibly wider, and he looks somewhere to my right, muttering something under his breath. “This is not slow!” I cry, smacking his shoulder.
“The kids are happy. I am happy, and I think you’re happy too, unless I’m missing something.”
“No, I’m happy, and I think the kids are happy, but living together and marriage…” He tugs me down to sit on his thigh then places his face an inch from mine, running his fingers through my hair, holding me in place.
“I want us to start a life together—you, me, and the kids. I want to come home to you, go to sleep next to you. I want to hear you nagging the kids about eating vegetables over dinner, and listen to you call my daughter gorgeous in a way I know she feels it. I want all of that and more with you, until I take my last breath.”
“If you make me cry, I won’t be able to explain that to the kids,” I say, feeling warmth spread through me and that hole inside of me fill up even more.
“Then don’t cry. Just tell me you’re on the same page as I am. Tell me you want the same things I want.”
“I want that—well, except the nagging part, since it’s not nagging, but good parenting. Kids should eat vegetables, and you could help me with that by eating them as well, without complaining,” I ramble, watching him smile.
“I’ll eat my veggies, baby, as long as I get to eat you for dessert.”
“Don’t turn me on before the kids come back either,” I grouch, and his smile turns smug.
“Fuck, but I wish we had time,” he says against my mouth, before kissing me deep and wet, making me wish we had more time before the kids are due back.
“What do you think about this top?” I ask Aubrey, holding up a cute, long-sleeved, navy blue shirt that is shorter in the front and longer in the back.
“It’s cute, but I don’t know if it’s me,” she says, and I hold it out in front of her, closing one eye.