She blinked. “The reading of the contract isn’t over yet, Mr. Clark. Please calm down.”
His smile stretched from one bar to the other. “I said three. Three children. Although I’d be happy with two for now, and an early renegotiation of the terms. And make it six months before we talk about moving in together. Our trial period has been going on for ten years, Hazel. We still want each other. I see that as a good sign. Oh, and parental leave is fine, but maybe we should schedule the birth of the children for the off-season.”
Hazel laughed, surprised that no swarm of butterflies flew out of her mouth. “Even you aren’t rich and powerful enough to arrange that, Gareth.”
He grinned. “Challenge accepted. By the way, I think we should finish on time at least three days a week. I’m assuming neither of us will suddenly stop being workaholics, but we should show goodwill. Also: Public feedings? What the hell, Hazel? Saydatesorgoing out to dinner together! I would never remove the Milky Way clause, but we must add that from now on, you will work exclusively with Lyle, Cravitz, or Penny. The conflict of interest is too great for me.”
“That would be paragraph 6.”
“Wonderful. Last but not least…” He reached through the bars, and Hazel hoped he would cup her face and finally kiss her — but instead, he snatched the note from her and ripped it up.
“Hey!” she cried indignantly. “What are you doing? That took a lot of work!”
“We should do this without a contract,” he murmured somberly and this time, he actually reached for her face. This time, he gently stroked her cheeks and lips with his thumbs.
“Why?” she whispered, stepping closer.
“Because we should stop imposing rules on ourselves and making plans. Contracts come easily for both of us. But they convey the wrong message. Relationships…are difficult. They don’t follow imposed patterns.” He hesitated, but finally murmured, raking his hands through her hair, “I don’t want to shuffle paperwork to know what’s right. I…want to ask you, so you can tell me.”
She laughed and leaned her forehead against his. She didn’t feel the cold bars between them at all. “Okay. No contract. I couldn’t think of anything else to call it so that it would spell L-O-V-E.”
“Hmm. Love-Offering-Venture-Enterprise?”
She snorted, shoved her arms into the cell, and wrapped them around his waist. “Who’s the love offering?”
“Both of us, of course.”
“It’s a good thing we decided against the contract!”
He grinned. “Possibly,” he murmured, kissing her gently as best he could with metal in their faces. “Now, can you please get me out of here so I can kiss you properly?”
“Soon,” she whispered. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”
“I really hope for your sake that you never let me go.”
She wasn’t planning on it.
Really – not this time around.
Epilogue
We should take proper photos.”
“That isn’t as funny.”
“But they’re better.”
“Funnyisbetter, Gareth!”
He chuckled softly and laced his fingers with hers, which were resting on his leg. “My parents don’t want funny. They want a photo of us to put on the mantelpiece. The goal is a nice product, not a funny one.”
Hazel sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe you don’t think I’m a nice product!”
Grinning, he squeezed her hand. “You’re the prettiest product I’ve ever set my sights on,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her gently behind it. “But I don’t want to put you on my parents’ mantelpiece.”
Hazel shuddered, making Gareth wish they were in his bed instead of the cramped photo booth. “I can’t stand for long in my high heels either. So it’s a completely stupid idea,” Hazel stated. “But we’ll get a decent picture. First things first: What kind of poses do we use?”
“I’m too impatient to think of poses,” he muttered, and promptly pressed the start button. Poses were for beginners. After all, this was the second time he’d done this.
