“Let’s say we actually do this,” I said after I’d swallowed a sip of my cider. “Where do you want us? San Francisco or are we packing up and starting an empire in New York?”
“An empire,” she echoed, chuckling. “Maybe we shouldn’t refer to it as that yet, shall we? Unless you’re planning on getting us crowns and matching thrones as soon as we arrive.”
“Obviously.” I frowned at her, pretending not to believe that she’d thought otherwise. “I’ve already put in an order for our crowns and we need to decide between red and green upholstery for the thrones.”
She nearly choked on her cider as laughter bubbled out of her. “Red or green? It’s not going to be Christmas forever, you know.”
“Festive is the vibe I’m going for anyway,” I deadpanned, and she snorted into her cup. After the moment of levity, I turned to face her fully, needing her to know I was serious about this. “Well, look, crowns and thrones aside, I’m game for giving New York a try. We can talk to Sterling about a new branch of W&S or we can do our own thing. Put our own names on the door. Westwood and Westwood. It could be fun.”
It got quieter between us then. The silence wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. It was just different, but I supposed that was to be expected with all these big dreams on the table.
She leaned back against the bench, studying the lights overhead. “Honestly, I think that decision goes hand in hand with what else we might want.”
I frowned. “Like?”
“Like, this is primarily a marriage of convenience, right? I mean, that’s why we actually agreed to do it. So what exactly do we consider convenient? What do we actually want from it?”
I shifted, caught off guard. “Convenience? That’s what we want, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips before she got a little more serious again. “Sure, but what does that convenience look like to you? For me, arranged or not, marriage is for life. That means we don’t only have to think about business. We also have to think about life stuff.”
“Life stuff.” That pulled me up short, but not because I hadn’t thought about it. I had. What surprised me was that she’d said it the way she had, like it was a foregone conclusion. A fact. “Like, kids? That’s what you’re talking about?”
She shrugged, but her gaze was steady on mine. “Eventually, yeah. I’d like to have them. Would you?”
“In a few years,” I said honestly, figuring this was one of those big, important topics that one had to be totally truthful about or risk dooming it all right from the start. “Definitely not within the next couple years at least. The way my brothers are going, I’m going to be drowning in nieces and nephews soon. I figure it’s best to use them for practice before we add to the chaos.”
Her lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. “So you’re saying you’ll sign us up to babysit?”
“Only if they come with an instruction manual.” I stole one of the last almond nuts and she gasped like I’d committed a felony, but she didn’t try to steal it back.
“An instruction manual would be useful, but I don’t think babies come with those.” She glanced at me again, but instead of turning her gaze back to the lights like she had before, she held my eyes for a long beat. “We’re agreed, then? To wait a few years, but to definitely start trying after that?”
Just like that, the conversation had shifted into something bigger. We weren’t just talking hypotheticals anymore. We were sketching the outline of the life we wanted to build together and the weirdest part of it was that it didn’t freak me out. It didn’tmake me feel like we were rushing into something we couldn’t possibly understand.
Aurelia and I had been on the same page about everything so far, and the thought of actually doing it all with her was, unexpectedly, pretty fucking exciting.
We lingered at the park for a little bit longer, but eventually the cold pushed us to get moving. It was getting late and as the hours ticked by, the wind was picking up and a definite added chill was sinking in.
Christmas lights blinked from lampposts as we strode down the block, toward our street. Halfway between our two places, I slowed on the sidewalk and turned to look at her. “My place or yours?”
She stopped walking too, arching a steep eyebrow as she looked back at me. “How much do you like that townhouse?”
I rubbed my chin, pretending to think about it much harder than I actually needed to. “It was recently renovated. The building is old enough to have a real fireplace and it’s got great water pressure. How much do you like your apartment?”
“I don’t have a fireplace and it’s winter.” She smiled. “I do like my espresso machine, though.”
That was all I needed to know. Ten minutes later, I was in her kitchen, wrestling the damn thing off the counter. It weighed about as much as a small child, and she was doubled over laughing while I muttered threats at it.
“Are you seriously doing this?” she asked between giggles. “Why?”
“I’m seriously doing it,” I grunted, nearly tripping over her rug as I strode to her front door. “If this cursed thing is what’s keeping you at this place, then taking it to mine solves the problem. Pack a couple bags. Let’s go home, baby.”
She blinked hard, but she was still smiling. There was also something softer in her eyes now. I wondered if she was seeingthrough the joke to the truth underneath. The truth that I wanted her at my place, with me, and not just for tonight, but tomorrow, and the day after that, and the one after that.
I wanted her with me for every tomorrow, and tonight? Well, tonight was just the beginning of all that.
CHAPTER 36
