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My pulse started hammering hard enough that I had to take a few calming breaths.
Good luck, Dixon. You ain’t got enough lung capacity for that one.
“When you say on board,” I began carefully, “can you clarify, please?”
“In the whole making a kid thing. I want to do it. With you, I mean.” He grabbed a napkin and blotted at the puddle beneath his coffee mug. He’d bumped it with his large arm several times already. “I can’t say I ever thought about it before your post, but once I worked my way around to it, I…yes. I’d be honored to make a baby with you.”
Breathe. It’s a simple task. You’ve been doing it for two and a half decades plus now.
“Okay.”
“But it’s not enough for me to just inseminate you.”
“After last night, I’d say not. You’re a thorough sort, Murphy.” I had to tease him. Seeing that pink tinge to his ears could’ve sustained me for a week.
“Not just that, though yes.” He took a quick breath and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, I want more of that. If you want that too.”
“Yes.” I started to say more, but my words vanished. Yes was all I could manage.
“But I want to do it the right way. Not just about sex. I want to get to know you better. I want to fall asleep to your laughter. And if we’re lucky enough to make a baby… I want to be the man he or she calls Daddy.” His gaze never wavered from mine. “I don’t want you to raise the child alone. Even if we aren’t—if we don’t continue, I want to be a part of my kid’s life. I have to be, or I’m afraid I can’t do this.” His chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths. “Even though I really want to be the one for you.” His voice dropped. “So fucking much.”
My eyes grew so hot that when Ivy approached the table with our tray of food, I turned my head away. I could barely reply to her questions.
Does this look okay?
Sorry, can’t see right now. It’s probably fine.
Is your coffee hot enough? Do you want me to pour?
Throat’s too tight to drink, thanks.
You’ll let me know if you need something?
What I need is Murphy. I’m scared shitless that everything I’ve ever wanted lives inside the man sitting across from me, and I don’t know how I got so lucky. And if he ever regrets getting on this train with me, I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover.
You know, typical light morning after fare. Except not even close.
Ivy finally left and I stared at my plate of food without the first clue how to pick up my fork and eat. My stomach was growling, but it didn’t seem to matter.
I was so churned up by what Murphy had said, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to chew.
“Veronica.”
Wordlessly, I looked up at him.
“If you don’t want to go forward, we can stop right here. We’re still friends. We’ll always be friends.”
Oh, God, my throat was so thick, I could barely swallow.
“I don’t want you to cry. Dammit, that’s the last thing I would ever want.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine, never mind. If you don’t want the rest, for you, I’ll do it. We can try to make a—”
I reared up and leaned across the table, fisting a handful of his T-shirt to pull him closer. His eyes widened about ten seconds before my boobs dragged through the eggs he’d soaked in ketchup and Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I so didn’t give a shit. I hauled him closer and kissed him hard enough to probably break his nose to go along with the foot his sweet Sage had injured at the prom.
Difference was? I didn’t stop kissing him, even as my left nipple grew hard from the coldness of the ketchup and the warm, firm lips responding to mine.
Sweet, shy Murphy was kissing me back, right in the middle of the diner. Reaching up to fist his hands in my hair as his tongue swept over mine and drove me absolutely batshit crazy.
We broke apart, breathing hard, laughing a little, and our gazes dropped to the explosion of red across my chest.
