“And I’ve been called many things before, but a chicken isn’t one of them,” she retorts.
I hum, doing my best to play it cool although my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest. “I think you’re afraid of what you might see, that your subconscious wants something you’re not willing to admit.”
She scoffs. “Whatever.”
“Prove me wrong, then,” I say, smugly.
“Fine, I will.” She scowls at me before closing her eyes andrelaxing her face, and I smile before I do the same. “What am I supposed to be looking at, again?”
I gasp. “It’s not that kind of fantasy, Claire Bear.”
She elbows me, and I chuckle. “Think about a perfectly happy version of your life. Try to imagine it like a movie,” I say, my tone more serious.
She inhales and exhales loudly. “All right.”
My grin widens at the scene my mind immediately conjures. “Want me to go first?”
“Wait, you didn’t say we’d be playing show and tell.”
“How else do you plan to win this argument?
She grunts, and I crack an eye open and catch her staring back at me before I add, “Unless you’re scared, that is.”
She scowls and squeezes her eyes closed. “After you, dork.”
“All right,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I see … a house in the country with a huge barn in the back, where I’m cleaning out the stalls with my beautiful wife.” She huffs again, but I continue. “And a whole slew of animals, because she’s always taking in new ones.”
“What about kids?” she asks, her voice sounding thick.
“Two, maybe three of them. They’re playing outside with the dogs while we alternate working and flirting in the barn. They catch us making out, and they all cringe and say it’s gross, but we tell them they’re lucky to have parents who like each other as much as we do.”
I pause and swallow hard before I go on. “We bring the kids inside to make dinner. And we say grace together as a family and thank God for all of it before we eat.”
She lets out another shaky exhale. “I figured you’d have wanted at least a handful of kids.”
“So did I,” I reply thoughtfully. “But it’s a little late to start on a brood as big as the one I grew up in.”
“Your wife isn’t younger than you?”
“No. She’s not. She does have a nice butt and a really hot tattoo sleeve, though.”
“But if you married someone younger, you could have more babies,” she argues, brushing overmy flirting.
“That’s not how this game goes,” I tell her with a short laugh. “The heart wants what it wants.”
“Oh.”
“What about your heart?” I ask after the silence stretches and peek at her again to check her expression. She’s frowning, and her chin trembles lightly. “Claire?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers and sniffles. “I don’t think … I just can’t.”
I turn and pull her into my arms, and she seems reluctant, but she doesn’t back away from my embrace. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. It was stupid.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice cracks, contradicting her. “It’s not your fault I’m a mess.”
“It might be this time,” I say, and she laughs softly, to my relief. “You’re not a mess, though. You still have some healing to do, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”
“That’s not what my heart says,” she mumbles, and I lean back to look her in the eyes.
