Page 54 of Her Age Gap Match

"Gonna take such good care of you." His arms wrapped around me fully now, one hand still on my belly, one on my breast, his mouth at my shoulder. "You and every single one of them. Promise you."

I believed him completely.

I came with his name in my mouth and his hands on me and his voice in my ear saying that's it, there you go, I've got you and when he followed me he stayed buried deep and held completely still and I understood exactly what that meant and loved him for it.

We stayed there for a long moment after. Both breathing. His forehead dropped to the back of my neck and he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder.

“I think…” I started. “I think the food should be ready.”

He let out a startled laugh—then we were both laughing as he pulled out and turned me in his arms to kiss me deeply, getting me distracted all over again.

“We’re eating naked by the fire,” he said. “Then we’re doing this again.”

I nodded. “I sure hope so.”

CHAPTER 16

Johnny

We sat by the fire and ate our dinner naked.

Now, Poppy was sitting in my lap, our bowls discarded on the coffee table, a big blanket wrapped around us. We exchanged lazy kisses, my hands roaming over her curves, learning every single one while she discovered my scars.

“I could, you know,” she murmured, her lips so close I could feel her breath against my throat. “Just…get off the pill. Start having babies now.”

I hummed, shaking my head. “I want to do this right,” I said. “Not rush into it. Meet your family, ask them for their permission to marry you…the whole nine yards.”

She pulled away slightly. “What if I want to go fast?”

I frowned, reaching up to cup her face. “There something behind this?”

“Just…” Her eyes darted away, into the fire—then back to me. “My parents are in their mid-sixties. Which is fine, they’re healthy, they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. But…I’ve always known I wanted kids young because I want my mom to be at every birthday party. I want my dad to show them Star Wars for the first time.” She let out a long breath, running her fingers along a scar on my arm. “I want them to actually know my parents. Not just remember them vaguely.”

I held her a little closer.

Gave it a second.

“Is this about them…or me?”

She pressed her forehead into my chest. “I want our kids to know you, yeah,” she said. “And our grandkids. And⁠—”

“Hey…hey,” I tilted her chin up to me. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

She laughed, a little watery. “I know. It’s stupid⁠—”

“Look at me.”

She did.

“I’m forty-five,” I said. “Not eighty-five. I’m not going anywhere for a very, very long time.” I stroked my thumb across her cheek. “And I take care of myself. I work with my hands, I sleep eight hours, I eat the same breakfast every day. I intend on being boring and healthy for at least another few decades.”

She laughed again, more genuine this time.

“So I have to insist on doing this right,” I said. “Meeting your family. Asking your dad—after he’s had a chance to google me, of course—and do it properly. That matters to me. But…I also hear you. I’m not interested in waiting years.”

“Then how long?”

I gave it a second. Needed the strength to say what I was about to say.