“I still don’t understand how you got her to agree,” I said.
“I threatened to take her to court to have her spousal support reduced. I was so desperate to be free of her during the divorce I agreed to a lot more than she would get if we fought it out in court. I just wanted it to be over.”
“So what now?” I asked. “You have full custody of your daughter. It’s unlikely Monica will come after you again. I’m in the clear from whatever plans she had. Where do we go from here?”
Brody lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Well, first I make you some soup and toast. Then I tuck you into bed so you can rest.”
He was so exasperating. “As lovely as that all sounds, you know what I really meant.”
“We pick up where we left off,” he replied. “And we work our way up to sleepovers. When we’re all ready, we’ll make it more permanent.”
I swallowed hard at the last sentence. I knew without asking that he meant marriage. He wanted to marry me, even after the nightmare with his ex.
“You know that we’re going to have a prenup, right?” I asked.
“What?” He sounded almost insulted.
“I’m on my way to becoming a franchise. I need to protect my assets.”
Brody choked then laughed. “Worried I only want you for your money?”
“Yeah. It’s been a real problem for me. Knowing when men really care for me or when they just want my cash.”
“All right then, boss lady. We’ll have a prenup but I expect to be well-compensated for my agreement.”
I knew he understood why I’d said it and that he was just playing along. I never wanted Brody to think I was with him for what he could buy me or the amount of money I could walk away with. And after the horror show that was his divorce, I expected him to be gun shy. Hell, I could understand completely how he might be.
So I said it first. Got it out in the open so he wouldn’t have to tiptoe around the topic when the time came.
I decided to change the subject because discussing marriage was freaking me out.
“This is not how I was planning our first night together after the dust settled,” I complained.
“How did you picture it?” he asked.
“You. Me. A bottle of wine and my bed. There was other stuff involved too but those were the highlights,” I answered.
“We can do all of that when you feel better.”
Yes, but it would be more difficult with a sassy six-year-old around. Speaking of her...
“Where’s Jacks?” I asked.
“With your parents. According to your mother, I needed to decompress after everything that’s happened recently.”
I bit back a laugh because I knew it would make my head hurt and the pain had finally faded to a manageable level. “She’s going to come back with a bunch of toys and clothes. And probably some sparkly make-up and nail polish,” I promised him. “Mom’s dying for grandkids and she’s chosen Jacks to be her first.”
“That’s fine,” Brody said. “Jacks needs that. My mother and Monica’s are both very indulgent but in a distant way. She needs attention and affection, something I know from experience your mother can provide in spades.”
Brody kissed the top of my head. “Rest. We have plenty of time to talk later.”
“Okay.” I was in no shape to argue with him now. “But you’re staying the night, right?”
This migraine would probably fade by morning. And then I could celebrate with Brody the way I really wanted to—by jumping his bones.
“Yeah. I’m here as long as you want me to be.”
If that was true, I would have him forever.
