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I laugh. "You're so sorry?" I step closer, throwing an arm around his neck. "What did you do, my Sky babe?" I wrap my other arm around his waist and rest my cheek against his hard, warm shoulder. "You're perfection, Luke McDowell. And the two of us?" I lift my head, so he can see my face. "Also fucking perfection. You know what I think? I think someone with not many options looked at us and looked at you and thought about what they think is so much money. In fairness..." I laugh. "They saw a fucking sweet ride for their baby, McD. So they left the baby with that note about how they wanted her to go to you. And then we didn't take her."
My stomach tightens at that, even though it shouldn't. "Before they quit—she quit—she tried one more thing. This is like the story you told me, the baby in the fucking basket."
He laughs, and I can see on his face he thinks I'm ridiculous, and maybe horrifying with the F-bomb. "Moses?"
"Yeah. Right, him. This woman is sending her kid down the river or whatever. Wanting a king to take her in."
He shuts his eyes. "Shit," he whispers. He cracks one eye open. "Good recall on that, Vanny."
I lean in, brushing a kiss over his lips. "Thank you, sensei."
He hugs me hard, and I hug him back. "Nothing to do with either one of us except granddaddy's pocket book."
Soft laughter shakes Sky’s shoulders. He squeezes me closer. "I love you. You know that, right? You know how much I love you?"
He pulls back, leaning his forehead against mine. Then he rests his cheek against mine, his warm hand caressing my nape. "What do you wanna do? You're not looking for a baby right now, are you?" Now he does put just a little bit of space between us, searching my face with his hazel-green eyes.
I laugh at the insanity of all this. "Sky, we just got married like six hours ago. You're the one with the high-powered Zaddy job. We do what you want. This is a time in life where we should do what you need and what makes you happy. You're in charge here."
He rests his forehead against mine again. "You are, Vanny. Anything you want, I give you. That's the way this works."
"Oh, is it?" I run my hand down his hip, and he laughs. "Don't tempt me." He lifts his head again and looks at the front doors. "I know Carrie's got to be tired. Maybe we should ask her in and give them both a room. Let my publicist and legal fix this in the morning."
My throat tightens. "You don't want a baby right now, do you?"
Sky’s brows arch, and his mouth twists into what looks like an abashed grin. "I mean..."
I gape, slapping his mouth softly. "Holy fuck, you do. You fucking want a baby."
"With you," he says hoarsely. "I want a baby with you, Vance Rayne McDowell." He inhales deeply and looks down at the space between us, seeming weary. "I've wanted a family for a long time," he says quietly.
"How long?" Even though I know this bit already, I’m still curious about exactly how long he’s been wanting it.
He smiles softly, looking down again, and I cup his cheek. "You look away when you're nervous, Mr. Megachurch Pastor." I kiss his chin. "That seems like an awfully obvious tell."
He rests his head against my shoulder and I hug him to me. "I love that you want a family. Fucking sexy as hell, my Sky babe."
"Is it?" He hugs me closer, so there's nothing between us—not even a sliver of air. And I love it. I swallow because my eyes burn a little.
"Oh yes." I stroke my hand down the back of his head, smoothing his soft hair down. "I want to have a bunch of babies with you. Borrowed uterus, of course." I laugh.
"How soon would you want one?" His eyes hold mine, and I feel dizzy.
"How soon would you want one?" I murmur, and my heart starts beating harder.
He swallows, and his face takes on an animated look, as if he's trying to be chill but can't be. "I don't know."
His mouth twitches, and his face looks sad...but happy. Like his face can't pick one.
"Yes you do." I'm laughing now. I give his thick shoulder a squeeze. "I think you do know, Sky. You're holding out on me."
"Would it be crazy?" he whispers.
My eyes ache as my throat feels like it's cinching. "Yes." It bubbles out—half word, half hoarse laugh. "It would definitely be crazy as all hell. And it might not even work," I whisper softly. "Whoever this woman is...she might just be playing games."
His eyes shut. "I know."
I ruffle his hair, gripping the locks lightly. "How long have you been holding out on me, Mr. McDowell?"
