Jaxon plants a soft kiss on my lips and excuses himself, returning a few minutes later with a wet washcloth and a bottle of water. He cleans his release from between my thighs, then cradles my head and tips the bottle against my lips.
I’m not sure I'll ever get used to the gentle way he cares for me, instinctively, like his affection isn’t an exchange, but rather a selfless impulse. It’s always been like that, from the very first night we met, but my wary heart couldn’t accept that someone would offer me kindness without an ulterior motive. That’s just who Jaxon is. His capacity for love is innate. It’s been ingrained in him from the moment he was born into the Hayes family, and it’ll be passed down to our children someday.
He props himself against the headboard and pulls me into his chest. “What are you thinking about?”
My fingertips trace the lines of his tattoos. “The future.”
He cracks a smile. “What do you see?”
“A big, messy family. Our kids running around with Emmy and Gracie. BBQs in the backyard, trail rides, and swimming in the creek.” The vision is so vivid it warms me from the inside out.
“I like the sound of that. How many kids do you want?”
“Two. Maybe three. You?”
“As many as you’ll let me give you. In fact, I think we should start practicing right now.” His hands grip my waist as he pulls me onto his lap. “Stop taking your birth control.”
My eyes widen in shock. “What?”
“Let me give you the family you’ve always wanted.”
“Jaxon, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? I’d marry you tomorrow, Calliope. I’d give you my last name, my family, the ranch, all of it if that’s what you want. You already have my heart. You might as well take everything else, too. It’s all worthless without you.”
I lean forward and press my lips to his, hoping he can feel the depth of my love for him pouring out of me. He’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. I’d be a fool not to take it.
Chapter 36
Cuddling is My Kryptonite
? Burning House - Cam
Callie
“Calliope?”
A shudder courses through me at the sound of my given name, but I don’t stop. They couldn’t possibly be talking to me.
The stranger doesn’t let up, hollering my name from several shops away. “Calliope Marsden. Copycat!”
I freeze, dropping my leftovers to the concrete. My head is swimming as I inhale a few ragged breaths. There’s a chance my mouth is moving without sound.
A gentle hand touches my shoulder. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
I pinch my eyes shut and slowly turn around. With all the courage of a field mouse, I meet the woman’s familiar eyes.
“You’re not real,” I whisper. “You can’t be here.”
I must be hallucinating.
“Clio.” Her name comes out as a quiet whisper.
She reaches for me, but I pull away.
Her hand hovers in the air between us before she slowly lets it drop. “Ok. I deserve that.”
Her once-dark hair is now a bright copper, with blonde face-framing highlights, accentuating the green hues in her eyes that sometimes match mine. She’s a few inches taller than me, curvy, and as beautiful as ever. Growing up, I wanted to be just like Clio—it’s why she nicknamed me Copycat.
