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“You’re right.” He smooths the hair from my face cupping my cheek. “But that’s even more reason to tell Rick.”
I know he’s making sense, but I can’t ignore the twisting tightness in my gut any time I picture mom or dad’s faces when they hear the news. I can imagine mom being okay with it, maybe, after some persuasion.
But dad?
I can’t imagine him condoning it.
“I don’t know if I can, not yet. I know that makes me a coward.”
“We can’t avoid it. Not now we both know how we feel,” he says sternly.
“I get that. But I just need some time. Is that okay?”
Bennet opens his mouth as if to speak – as if to tell me no – but then he bites down on his words and nods. “We can’t avoid it forever, Rory. But for you, we can wait a little while.”
Cowardly relief flows through me.
But Bennet’s right.
The clock is ticking, counting down to the moment where we have to reveal the whole messy truth to my dad.
“Maybe we can just take this moment to appreciate how freaking amazing this is?” I say, pushing my concerns aside. “You’re not angry at me for being a virgin. You want me the same way I want you.”
The same way I’ve always wanted him, I almost add, but I’m conscious that Bennet understandably doesn’t like to be reminded of my childhood crush.
“You’re right.” He hugs me tighter, leaning down to kiss the top of my head softly. “Let’s just be together, okay. Everything else can wait.”
I sink gratefully into the arms, laying my head against his chest, listening to my man’s heartbeat.
That’s not even silly to think anymore.
My man.
Everything would be so perfect if it weren’t for one simple unavoidable fact.
We’re betraying my dad every moment we spend together.
Ignoring the nasty voice of truth in my head, I close my eyes and listen to the steady drumming of my man’s heart… the heart he’s ready to give to me, the same way I’m ready to give him mine.
Forever.
Chapter Sixteen
Bennet
I guide the car across the bridge, the lights of the city beckoning.
Lorelei has that cute smile on her face, a little unsure as she thinks about the full importance of what we shared.
She feels the same.
I almost punched the air when she told me. I have to keep looking at her just to make sure this isn’t some weird joke, but each time she looks at me, I know I’m not imagining it. And she didn’t make it up.
No, we’re bonded together, forever.
She’s my virgin, just mine. No one else is ever going to touch her. If they try I’ll rip their goddamn heads off.
“Are you sure you’re not mad?” she murmurs. “About, you know… not being able to…”
I chuckle. “Are you really going to get all shy with the future father of your children? And no, I’m not mad.”
Her whole face lights up, her blush almost seeming to emit light. Whereas I’ve had problems expressing my emotions, my woman has no such restraints. It’s like there’s a Christmas tree inside of her, lighting her up.
“I didn’t even know you wanted children,” she says.
“I didn’t think about it,” I tell her. “But when I saw you, everything changed. Now I can’t imagine a future without you by my side, as you write your bestsellers and care for our family. What about you? Do you want kids?”
An invisible knife twists in my gut when she shakes her head.
My face must show my disappointment because she just smiles and touches my arm. “Sorry, I wasn’t shaking my head at your question.”
“No, then whose?” I tease.
She giggles. “At myself. At what I was going to say.”
“Well, you have to say it now.”
“I wouldn’t want to be a tease, would I?” She says it with an element of humor in her tone, but then her expression dampens, as though part of her thinks I really am annoyed about not taking her back at the cabin.
“Don’t stress, baby. I felt how badly your body wanted it back there. Our time will come.”
She laughs. “You really are a freaky mind reader sometimes, you know that?”
“So what were you going to say?” I ask.
She shrugs, turns to her window, and watches the light dancing across the river. “That I’ve wanted a family with you for years. I used to dream about it in high school.”
We really were made for each other.
I know why she was hesitant. The only way I’m capable of thinking about her is how she is now, a grown woman with a curvy-as-hell body tempting me each and every second. But it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how perfect this is, for both of us.
“How many are you thinking?”
She taps her chin. “Maybe three or four.”
“Or four or five.”
She laughs delightedly. “Or six or seven.”
“Or seven or…”
