My heart clenches at the defeat in his tone. “Why do you say ‘if’?”
He rolls his shoulders, looking away from me. “I dunno. I’m almost forty, and it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Thirty-five is notalmost forty.”
He swallows audibly and forces his attention back to my face. “Thirty-six.”
“Huh?”
“I’m thirty-six.”
Confused, I prop my hands on my hips. “But I thought…”
“Today’s my birthday.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I punch him in the bicep again.
With a shrug, he plucks an elastic from the counter and pulls his hair into a knot too. “Thirty-six feels likelate thirtiesand… I don’t know, I didn’t want to be reminded that I thought I’d be married with a kid by now.”
I study him, deciding to circle back to celebrating his birthday later. “Is that something you’ve always wanted? A family?”
“Yes. Casually dating was fun when I was in my twenties, but even then, I didn’t want to be a chronic bachelor like my dad. Nor do I want to swing the opposite direction and be alone like my mom.”
“Do you think she’s lonely?”
His lips turn down in a solemn frown. “I don’t think she’s unhappy, but yeah, I do think she’s lonely.”
“She never found anyone else?”
“Not really. She told me recently that she’s dating, but I kind of think she was kidding. Anyway, what about you? Do you want kids?”
Oof. Now there’s a loaded question. “Eventually. Though I’d rather marry a woman soshecan carry the baby. Being pregnant sounds terrifying.”
He cocks his head. “How so?”
“Carrying a tiny human in my body for nine months?” I look down at my stomach, hating that it’s already bigger than I’m used to. “I don’t know about that.”
“I bet you’d be gorgeous while pregnant.”
With an exaggerated gasp, I swat at his arm, but he dodges me just in time. “Do you have a breeding kink? If you do, I need to know.”
“Why? Does that turn you on?”
I’m not into cold plunging, but someone needs to shove me under the showerhead right now. “No.”Maybe. “But if you’re myhusband,” I put up air quotes, “then that’s probably something I should know.”
“It’s not like we’re sleeping together. Unless…” He arches a brow.
“You perv.” With a laugh, I turn away and snag my toothbrush.
“How am I a perv? You’re hot.” He points at me. “I’mhot.” He points at himself. “We could be two consenting adults. Plus, I’ve gotten you off before, remember?”
Do I remember?
Greece.
Storage closet.
I rode his fingers like a buckle bunny in those cowboy romances I love to read.
