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I didn’t blame her one bit.
“Come on!” Owen called out to the boys as he pounded down the stairs.
He’d spent some time upstairs going over some of the book cover photos he’d been sent from his agent while he waited for the kids to arrive.
“You chose one?” I asked him as we stood side by side while the boys dove into the pile of presents under the tree.
Owen had gone over the top and bought a massive, real fur tree to put into the back corner of the entry.
“No. I want your opinion when we’ve got some time later. I have all next week to choose.”
I turned my eyes up to him with a smile that he didn’t even notice because he was too busy watching his boys with a grin on his face.
The man couldn’t have ever known how much I loved him, or how much I appreciated that he included me in on things he didn’t have to.
“Did you open my present to you?” I asked him, motioning to the little box that I’d put under the tree.
He shook his head then smiled.
“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” he said, but went to retrieve it eagerly, anyway.
I wrung my hands and waited anxiously.
He opened the hand-sized box, his brows meeting in confusion.
Tossing the lid to the chair beside him, he pulled out the little onesie inside.
He stared at it, then at me, then down to my stomach.
“Are you…?” he started, but I put my hands up to stop him.
“No!” I insisted, embarrassed for my idiotic gift. “I just…I wanted to tell you that I’m…I want to have a baby with you. Whenever you’re ready. Sooner rather than later.”
Relief blew through him, then he took another big breath.
“You just scared the fucking hell out of me!” he said, taking me into his arms. “Really? You want to have a baby with this old guy?”
I nodded, which made him wrinkle his nose at my lack of denying that he was old.
“I want to have your baby,” I whispered, pulling him into my arms while the boys hollered about one of their toys.
Owen had spoiled them, and I’d helped.
“I'll stop taking my birth control,” I admitted. “If you say yes.”
“Of course I’m saying yes,” he agreed passionately. “Maybe we should try tonight. You never know when the lucky day will be.”
“That just means you need to marry me soon,” I told him, winking. “My dad will strangle you if I have a baby out of wedlock.”
He rolled his eyes with a grin.
“Oh, poor me. Marry the fucking girl of my dreams then stuff her so full of my spunk that she has my baby. I’m so unlucky.”
His sarcasm was appreciated, and I laughed at him.
“February is a good month,” he breathed, totally serious now.
“I like February. It’s the month of love. Valentine’s day and all.”
