Page 119 of Craving Harper


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“I think we should make the primary room bigger,” I said, just to rile him. “We could get rid of the bedroom next to it and turn it into a huge walk-in closet—”

“Baby, that bedroom is already huge, and you said you wanted four bedrooms total. You take out that smaller room, and we’ll havethreebedrooms.”

“I mean, maybe we could add on later?”

Bas shot me a look. He knew what I was doing.

“I’m fine,” he said, setting his hand on mine. “Just ready to get this shit over with.”

“We don’t even know how many kids we want,” I said, ignoring the obvious lie. “Maybe three bedrooms is enough?”

“Two or three,” Bas replied, glancing at me.

“You want two or three?” I asked, unable to hold back a grin.

“Have two and then decide if we want another?” he asked.

“Seems logical,” I replied with mock seriousness. “But what if we have a third and decide we’re not done?”

“Three is plenty.”

“Maybe not,” I sang.

“We can cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in an argument?” I asked hopefully.

“Our arguments always end in sex,” he replied ruefully. “And I can’t fuck you for at least eight more hours. You willin’ to drag it out that long?”

“I rescind my offer,” I replied formally.

“Thought so.”

“I just thought a distraction might help.”

“I know.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “But I think I might just need to sit with it, baby. Can’t go around it. Gotta go through it.”

“The past always comes back to bite you,” I said with a sigh.

“There’s a silver lining,” he said with a shrug. “I can show you all of the shit Bernice kept from when I was little. Pictures and report cards and all that. She kept it all in the attic, and since she left our bedrooms untouched, I think it’s safe to think she didn’t throw any of it out.”

The rest of the ride was spent mostly in silence, and I didn’t try to distract Bas anymore. Since we’d started seeing each other, he’d had to face a lot of mistakes he’d made in his past, and I knew that the biggest one was not reaching out to his foster mom sooner. He’d lost out on years of a relationship with her that he’d never have, and it ate at him.

Even on my grouchiest nights, he was insistent that we never miss family dinner with my parents, and though he blamed it on the fear of my mom, I thought in his way, he was trying to make sure that I didn’t have the same kind of regrets that he did.

When we pulled up in front of the little yellow house, there was a large bearded man sitting on the front steps. He rose to his feet as we parked.

“Is that Arlo?” I asked.

Bas was barely breathing, but he nodded.

“Well,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt so I could lean over and kiss him. “Go say hello.”

I stayed inside the car and watched as Bas walked toward the other man. They talked for a moment, and then Bas offered his hand.

Arlo took it, then yanked Bas into a hug, slapping his back as they held each other.

Swallowing hard, I wiped at the tears on my cheeks. Thankfully, I got my shit together before Bas gestured to the car.