“After all, it’s a bit of a kink for me that I’ve bagged myself an older woman.”
I promptly plucked a mushroom out of my lettuce wrap and threw it at him. “Don’t ever call me an older woman again.”
He shook the piece of mushroom out of his hair, shoulders shaking with laughter. His voice trembled with it as he taunted, “You do realize when you’re forty, I’ll only be thirty-six.”
“I hate you.”
Baird laughed harder. “It’s a four-year age gap, gorgeous. Not ten. No big deal.”
A sudden thought flashed in my mind, making my smile slide right off my face.
“What? What just happened?”
“Nothing,” I squeaked out. It was way too soon to bring it up.
“It’s definitely something.” Baird put his plate down on my coffee table and turned his body into mine. “Talk to me. Because I can’t have you getting in your head—not when I finally know how fucking good it is between us.”
His concern incited my remorse. I didn’t want him constantly battling against my overthinking but … “If I told you what just crossed my mind, you’d run so far and so fast I’d see a Baird-shaped hole in my front door.”
He grinned that sexy grin of his. “I doubt it. Tell me.” At my hesitation, he prompted, “Did you know I’m like a dog with a bone when I want something?”
The fact that he’d stuck around for over a year waiting for me to open my eyes and see he was the better choice, I think I did. Oh well. Here went nothing.
“I’m thirty. By thirty-five … pregnancy is considered high risk.”
One thick handsome eyebrow quirked up toward his forehead.
“Rethinking the Baird-shaped hole?”
“Keep going.”
“I … thought I’d most likely have a child by the time I was thirty-five.”
“And that won’t happen now why? My swimmers are all in working order, as far as I’m aware.”
I gaped at him. “But … but … you’re only twenty-six.”
“And?” He shuffled closer to me. “Obviously, I want you to myself for a bit longer. But I also want to be a young dad. I want to have energy to raise my kids.”
He just … he just kept surprising me. Over and over again. “I … you want kids? You’ve thought about it?”
“Of course. I was never not open to finding the right person and starting a family just because I played the field.”
After several long seconds of me staring at him, Baird bent his head to mine. “Are you ever going to speak again?”
I shook my head.
His lips twitched. “That would be a shame because I enjoy the sound of your voice.” He waggled his brows. “Especially when you’re screaming my name.”
I shoved him playfully, almost losing my dinner plate.
He rescued it for me and asked quietly, “So … are we good, My?”
“We’re more than good, Bear. I’m … you make me happy.”
His chest moved upward in one heave offeeling. When he exhaled, he let out hoarsely, “You make me happy too.”
As we cuddled into each other, picking at our food, I squeezed my eyes closed, soaking in this unbelievable contentment. Joy. Thrill. Hope. For a beautiful future together.
