Page 50 of Up In Flames

“Yet possibly still a freak. It was one thing for me to find my inner strength in opposition to the insults and the stares when I was young. It’s another thing to watch my child have to be strong.” He glances at me, then back to the road. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

I don’t say anything for a few minutes as I think about how difficult it must have been for him growing up. It’s true that everyone in school knew him. Maybe some of them made fun of him. Probably they did—kids are mean, cruel sociopaths most of the time, and I guess I added to his weight by screaming at him in the locker room and making him feel like an unwelcome pervert.

Fuck, I feel so guilty.

Suddenly, he swings the truck onto the shoulder and sets the gear into park. He swivels in his seat as much as he’s able. Given his height and the length of his legs, his seat is set back as far as it will go and has been specially designed to sit flat to the floor.

Just another reminder that he’s never really fit in with the normal world. And yet, he’s at the heart of this town. Everyone loves him. But maybe they didn’t always.

“Do you want me to bring you back to your house? If you do, say the word. I won’t hold it against you.”

And there he goes, being a perfect gentleman once more. His ancestors might have been cannibalistic assholes, but he’s so different, he might as well be… well, a dog. Dogs are nature’s best, most loyal creatures.

“I’m hoping you’ll hold something against me, but I was thinking more of your dick,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood.

“Nina.”

“I’m not reconsidering us, Sampson. I’m not even reconsidering the idea of having children with you. You just took me by surprise.”

“But you’re the one who keeps bringing up children,” he points out reasonably. “I’m telling you, you’re asking for heartache. It’s going to be hard, maybe physically, but definitely mentally. And if I am a different species, and the six fingers, six toes thing is genetic… can you lob off pieces of your child so he or she will ‘blend?’ Can you live with that? Because I don’t think I can.”

I tuck one of my legs under me. “Do we have to decide this now?”

“I don’t know. Do we?”

“We don’t even know if we’re going to get through the next month together.”

“We know.”

Okay, fine. Something fluttery and warm rises inside me. Maybe I need to be wanted a lot more than I thought I did. “Look, you make my womb feel empty, okay? And you’re right. I keep picturing you with children, but only because you’re so… competent.”

He lays the back of his hand against his forehead and faints backward. “Be still, my beating heart.”

“No, competence is good. It’s… sexy. And secure.”

“You could stop with ‘sexy.’” His smile could power up the electric grid before it falls.

I grab his fingers and squeeze. “I’m stopping with secure, because it’s important for a woman to think she’ll be able to lean upon a man once there are children in the picture. Kids are hard. Emotional, mental, and even physical support are the trifecta I want in my man when I have a child with him. Look, all I’m saying, I guess, is that I trust you, and if things between us… progress… then I hope we’ll consider children. In the meantime, I’m content to just be obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed?” Is it possible for his smile to grow even larger? “Well, I guess that’s okay, since I’m kind of obsessed with you, too, Jelly Bean.” He spreads his arms, hands up. “And look at me. Here I am, inviting a woman who hated me a couple of days ago to move in, quite possibly forever. Hopefully, forever. Plus, I’m contemplating having children with her, when I haven’t even been thinking that I might want some.”

“Some?”

“Well, if we’re going to have one, might as well have a dozen.” He lays one of his enormous hands with its missing sixth finger over my belly. “Here. My seed will take root, and you’ll bloom, and I’ll kill anyone who comes too close to you, and jeez, I feel feral just talking about this.”

Once more, it seems like we’re months ahead of where we should be, and yet… I look him in the eye. “Is this love, Sammy?”

His flinch barely processes before his grin widens again. “I think it might be, or the beginning of it. Is it love for you?”

“I think it may be. I’ve never felt this way before. How would I know?”

“Me, too.” He retrieves his hand, and I instantly feel the loss. “We’ll take things slow. We won’t assume. We’ll call our living together one long date. After a couple of weeks, we’ll see how we feel. How does that sound? And if it doesn’t work out between us, we’ll part as friends, no express guarantees given. Just… honesty.”

But he sounds as grim as I feel at hearing him say those last words. Odd as it is, I want a guarantee from him, though he’s right. We need to see where this goes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He looks past me and then back. “Scratch that. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you go.”

“You have no idea how fast I can wrap myself around you and refuse to unlatch.”