Page 22 of Solitary Man

He dipped his chin again. “Their women and kids as well.”

Now I was really looking forward to the trip, despite the flying. “So both Hank and Beau have wives?”

“Yep,” he said absently, still walking around the plane checking things.

I followed. “What are their names?”

“Hank’s woman is Birdie. Beau’s, Freya.”

I had no idea what Hank and Beau were like, but if they were anything like Cash, maybe these women had some insight they’d be willing to share on how to deal with my gruff, uncommunicative husband. “What are they like?”

Cash stilled and frowned, like he’d never considered it. “Nice.”

Nice. That was it. Good Lord, the man was impossible to get talking. Except, of course, when we were enjoying each other’s bodies.

Then he turned to me again, that frown still there, and surprised me by expanding on that one word. “And they love cooking for their husbands.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he grinned. I nearly fell over. He was teasing me, turning our fight into something we could laugh about. My heart exploded in my chest from the sheer pleasure of it. And holy hell, he was beautiful when he smiled, flashing his straight, white teeth, his eyes lighting up and softening all at the same time.

“Har har, and too soon, Mr. Smith. Too damn soon,” I said, but I was pretty sure there was no hiding how breathless I sounded.

And then he went and chuckled, and I thought I might actually pass out.

“How did they meet?” I asked when I’d shaken off the shock of hearing that low, raspy, incredibly sexy sound. “Your cousins and their wives?”

“Birdie got lost on the mountain. Hank found her.”

He moved to the other side of the plane, and I followed again. “And what about Beau and Freya?”

His gaze flicked to me. “Like us.”

“Online?”

“Yep.”

“Is that where you got the idea from?”

“Yep.”

Now I really wanted to meet these women. “How long have they been together?”

“Few years.”

Wow. I liked this. A lot. “Do they have kids, as well?”

His gaze flicked to me again. “Yep.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Do you think you’d want kids one day?” This was probably something I should have asked him before we got married. I mean, I’d wanted my own family forever. I’d been alone most of my life, sent away to school so my parents could travel without me getting in the way. But the family I craved didn’t necessarily mean children. My parents had been terrible, and the idea of raising children kind of scared me.

He straightened, his eyes moving over me, my breasts, my belly, back up, and his nostrils flared. “Yep.”

Okaaaay. My heart was racing again. “How many?”

“Three.”

No hesitation. This was something he’d definitely thought about.

He moved toward me, and I tilted my head back and my heart raced even faster. Then his hands were on my hips and he was lifting me up, planting me in my seat. He didn’t let go right away, kept his hands there, gently squeezing and releasing, his gorgeous eyes locking with mine. “You want kids?”