“Define long,” I asked evasively.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Hot tub. You can tell me underneath the stars.”
I left my phone on the nightstand and let Flynn lead me out of the cabin. The water was calm tonight and it would be perfect for relaxing in the hot tub.
The stars were out and winking from above. The air was chilly, as was the slight breeze. I shivered as Flynn pressed a button and the hot tub’s cover opened. I stepped into the steaming water, letting it envelope me. Flynn followed and sidled up next to me. We leaned our heads back to stare at the sky.
“Hen?” he prodded.
“I want another baby.”
He didn’t say anything, and I looked at him. His expression was indecipherable. “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked finally.
“I’m not sure. A while, I guess. I think it’s been in the back of my mind for longer than I realized.” I paused. “Sterling sent me a photo of the nursery and I just…”
“You just what, hen?”
“I want another. I don’t feel complete.”
He reached his arm around me and tickled the top of my shoulder with his finger. “I’ve had a vasectomy.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve had substantial injuries and can’t—”
“We could adopt. I’d be fine with adopting.”
“I thought our family was complete.” He frowned.
“It was,” I agreed. “But lately, it feels…incomplete.”
“Let me think about this.”
“All right.”
“I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes, either. Give me time.”
I reached behind my neck and removed the tie, the top of my swimsuit falling into the water.
The lights of the yacht were bright enough that I could see the banked fires of lust in his eyes.
There was no point in talking about it anymore. I told him what I wanted, and he was taking time to process it. That was all I could ask for.
I floated my body toward his and plopped down onto his lap.
“I love you,” I whispered just before my lips brushed his.
And then my mind short circuited as my lust for Flynn took over.
Chapter2
BARRETT
I steppedout onto the deck the next morning to bright sunshine and crisp air. I tugged up the collar of my sweater as I made my way to a table that was covered in white linens and five place settings.
Hawk bounced on the settee as he shoved a piece of toast smothered with butter and jam into his mouth. That was all my seven-year-old needed: carbs and sugar.
Flynn sat between our six-year-old twins, but that didn’t stop Iain from misbehaving. He was currently throwing raspberries at his brother.
