Page 234 of My Real Love Affair

He considered this. “Fair point. But he’s going to love all of it.”

“We should get him one special thing, not fifty things he’ll forget about in a week.” I steered him away from the instruments and toward a display of more curated gifts. “Less is more, Austin. If we show up with a ton of stuff, none of it will feel special. But if we show up with one really cool thing? That’s what he’ll remember.”

Austin looked at me like he was considering my words. Then he moved in close, his hand settling on my waist. “I love the way your mind works.”

“Because I’m stopping you from spending a small fortune on a child’s birthday?”

“Because you’re thoughtful. Because you understand what actually matters.” He paused, his eyes going soft in that way that made my heart skip. “You’re going to make an incredible mom someday.”

My heart soared. We’d talked about kids in abstract terms—someday, eventually, when the time was right. But the way he said it now, with such certainty, had my heart skipping several beats.

“Someday?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Someday soon, ideally,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on my hip.

“Austin.” My voice came out breathless. “Are you serious?”

He just smirked at me, that infuriatingly sexy smirk that drove me crazy. “I’ll show you how serious I am later.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. I turned neon pink right there in the middle of the toy store. The sales associate was definitely pretending not to listen while absolutely listening.

“Okay,” I said hurriedly, grabbing the first appropriate toy I could find. It was a beautiful wooden train set with hand-painted details. “This one. We’re getting this one. Let’s go.”

Austin laughed but followed me to the counter, where we paid for the train set.

Back at home, I opened a container with a variety of wrapping paper options. I selected a blue one and grabbed the tape and scissors.

“I’ll help,” Austin offered.

I inwardly grimaced. I had seen the way Austin wrapped the last gift we bought for a niece’s birthday. I was a bit of a perfectionist and he was the other end of the spectrum.

I cut the perfect square that would eliminate any bunching and excess paper.

“It needs to look fun to unwrap,” Austin countered, deliberately making the paper a bit messy. “Kids don’t care about perfect corners. They care about ripping into stuff.”

“But it should still look nice for the photos.”

We spent ten minutes fixing each other’s work.

I stepped back and looked at our collaborative effort—perfectly imperfect, a little messy but clearly wrapped with love. “You know what? You’re right. It’s perfect.”

“We make a good team,” he said, pulling me in for a kiss.

“The best team.”

An hour later, we arrived at Isaac and Mina’s house, which looked like a tornado of toddlers had swept through. Balloons everywhere, streamers hanging from the ceiling, and what sounded like about twenty small children screaming with joy in the backyard.

“Brace yourself,” Austin muttered as we walked in.

Isaac met us at the door, looking exhausted but happy. “Austin, Melody, welcome. We need more adult supervision before someone ends up on the roof.”

“Is that likely?” I asked.

“With this crew? Anything’s possible.”

We made our way through the chaos, saying hello to family members. Cash was there, looking surprisingly comfortable with a toddler on his hip. When he saw us, he gestured toward the garage where several dads had congregated with beers.

“Austin, you want to escape for a bit? We’re hiding from the chaos.”