Page 128 of Bound To Be Mine

He kissed me, cutting off my rambling. When he pulled back, he was grinning. “Of course I want you. But are you sure? I could move to LA. I’ve been thinking about it, actually. Adrian offered me the position out here to oversee the retail expansion.”

I shook my head. “No. You’re so close with your family. It makes sense for you to stay near them. And honestly, I don’t have family in LA. My parents are in Boca Raton. I built a life here because I needed to build something, but it doesn’t have to be here specifically.”

“Baby, I don’t want to ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you. I’ve always wanted to live in New York. Now I have someone to show me around the city. And wedding season in New York is next level. This could be a huge career move for me as well as the next step for our future together.”

“We’re doing this.” He pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine. “Two months?”

“Give or take. I have to do some planning and hiring. And then set up a New York office.” My mind was already spinning. “Are you sure you’re ready to live together? Like full time.”

“Mandy, you just told me you’re moving three thousand miles to be with me. I think we’re past worrying about moving too fast.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I want you in my space. I want your candles everywhere and your terrible singing in the shower and your clothes taking over my closet.”

I laughed, feeling tears prick at my eyes. “My singing isn’t that bad.”

“It’s pretty bad.”

“Rude.”

He kissed me again, soft and sweet, and then he picked me up and spun me around, both of us laughing like idiots. When he set me down, I was dizzy—from the spinning or the happiness, I couldn’t tell.

“This calls for celebration.” I grabbed a bottle from my wine rack—a nice Pinot Noir I’d been saving—and poured us each a glass while he finished making dinner.

We settled at my small dining table with pasta and salad and wine. I felt an overwhelming sense of rightness. This was what I wanted. This partnership with him.

“Okay, let’s talk future,” I said, twirling pasta on my fork. “Big question first. Kids. How many do you want?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Two. Maybe three if we’re not completely destroyed by the first two.”

“Three?” I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a lot of children.”

“I grew up in a big family. I liked it. But I’m flexible. What about you?”

“I always pictured two,” I admitted. “A boy and a girl, if we’re lucky. Though I know you don’t get to choose.”

“Two sounds perfect.” He sipped his wine. “When? Not right away, obviously, but eventually?”

“Give me a year to get established in New York,” I said. “Let’s enjoy being married without the chaos of diapers and midnight feedings. But after that? Yeah. I’d like to start trying.”

“A year. I can work with that.”

“What about parenting styles?” I asked. “Are you going to be the fun dad or the strict dad?”

“Probably somewhere in the middle. I want to be present, you know? Not like my dad.” He paused, his expression getting just a little sad. “My dad was great, but he worked all the time. I don’t want that. I want to be there for school plays and soccer games and homework.”

“That’s important to me too,” I said softly.

“Do you want to stay in the city or get a house in the suburbs?” he asked. “Picket fence or doorman?”

I considered it. “Are you asking because you want a grill?”

He grinned. “I’m going to miss that grill. Will you keep the house?”

“I don’t know, should we? It might be nice to have a place to come to. I’m sure we’ll make trips out here from time to time, especially if we do end up doing brick and mortar locations.”

“Good plan,” he said. “I like that.”

“What about hobbies?” I asked. “What do you do for fun besides work? And don’t say work. That doesn’t count.”