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Brandon thinks for a moment.
“I think in a few weeks,” he replies. “He’s looking forward to it.”
It was, of course, a little strange interacting with Jasper after our confrontation, given my new relationship with his father. However, I think that his therapy sessions really help, and to my surprise, Jasper is a doting big brother. He adores his little half-sister, and even offers to babysit once in a while.
“That’ll be nice,” I say, and mean it.
“I think he’s dating someone,” Brandon says, half-smiling. “Although whenever I try to bring it up, he gets shy.”
I laugh. Jasper goes to college about an hour away on a tennis scholarship, and I can only imagine how much attention the athlete gets from the opposite sex. After all, he’s a handsome boy, although he can’t compare to his father.
“His reluctance to mention anything means he’s definitely dating someone,” I inform him. “The question is: is she twenty, or is she fifty?”
Brandon smirks a bit, shaking his head.
“Who knows? But either way, it’s fine with me.”
We both smile because who are we to judge a May December relationship, when we’re in one ourselves?
“Maybe we’ll get to meet her sometime,” Brandon muses.
I nod. “Honestly, I look forward to it because I think we’re out of shocking revelations at this point. What more can there be?”
We eat and laugh under the stars until Nora is half-asleep in her high chair. Then, we lay her down in her crib and she’s, mercifully and miraculously, out like a light. I don’t miss the months where she barely slept through the night, despite much pleading and cajoling. When I think of those times, though, an excited jolt blazes through me like a shooting star. I absolutely cannot wait to have another baby, and the words are bubbling on my lips. Brandon apparently has other ideas though.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are lately?” he murmurs as we get into bed. He trails his a big hand up my thigh, before resting it suggestively on my breast.
“Only three times a day,” I retort with a smug smile.
“Good.” He captures my mouth in a kiss, and I immediately relax into his embrace. Two years later, and this man still gives me butterflies every time he touches me.
“Oh wait,” I say, as his hand begins to tweak my nipple. “Wait!” I laugh as he mutters a wordless protest and continues squeezing and pulling the sensitive tip. I swat his hand away. “I have something important to tell you!”
“What could be more important than making love to your handsome boyfriend?” he asks dramatically.
“There aren’t many things,” I admit, but when Brandon sees the anxious smile on my face, he pauses.
“What’s up, Lucy?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”
I take a deep breath and then look directly into his blue gaze.
“Brandon,” I whisper. “I’ve been suspecting it for a few weeks now, and I finally took a test this morning, and…”
“You’re pregnant again,” he finishes, sounding sure of himself.
I gasp in mock offense. “I wanted to say it!”
He laughs, pulling me into his arms and kissing me all over my face until I giggle helplessly. “I had a feeling,” he said, “when last week you didn’t finish your dessert, and this week you complained about your body aching, and when your breasts started to look extra big and incredibly delicious…”
“OMG, are you still trying to get into my pants right now?” I laugh, pushing him playfully away. “This is a big deal!”
His expression grows serious, and his eyes warm. “I know it is,” he says, kissing the back of my hand. “It absolutely is. And I’m so happy to get to have another baby with you, Lucy Church. But that reminds me that I’ve been thinking about a few things myself.”
I arch a brow. “Yes, lover boy?”
Then, to my surprise, Brandon gets out of bed and takes a knee, clasping my hand in his own. “Lucy Church has a nice ring to it,” he growls, his expression serious. “But I think Lucy Walsh sounds even better, don’t you?”
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“I love you, Lucy,” my man continues. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I love our children, and the life that we have together. I wasn’t sure that marriage was a part of my plan, especially after going through a nasty divorce so many years ago. But I am absolutely confident that I want to get married to you.” He smiles then, even as tears spring to his eyes. “I want us to go shopping for the perfect ring, so right now, my empty hands will have to do. But these empty hands want to hold yours forever. Will you let me sweetheart? Will you become Mrs. Lucy Walsh?”
