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I refused to let him sidetrack the conversation. “I think you want kids,” I said softly. “I think you want a family like the one you were raised in.”
He stilled, the amusement fading from his features. “Truth?”
I nodded.
Colt sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers, his hands clasped in his lap as he stared at the floor, mulling over his words before speaking.
“My parents loved us. They really did. But they loved each other more. Dad didn’t die of cancer. Not really. He let the cancer take him because it was less painful than living without my mom. He died of a broken heart, but you don’t say shit like that in our world. You know?”
He shook his head and went on.
“Joni and I…we had each other. Still have each other. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. Sure, I left her like an ass and tried to figure out my own shit—living in a world that my dad wasn’t in anymore, but I came back. And it’s been the two of us ever since.” He looked at me and smiled. “Until you came along, I didn’t think much about having kids. Why have kids if you don’t have the love of a good woman to raise them alongside you?
“I don’t know, darlin’. One day we’ll be old. One of us will go first. Whoever is left behind…well, I like the idea of having the comfort of family when that time comes. A family you and I made together. A part of me, a part of you, will always be left in the world, even when we’re gone. And if we have more than one kid, they’ll be there for each other when we’re both gone.”
His words wrecked me and I felt tears coat my eyelashes, but they didn’t fall. Somehow, I held it all back. Not because I was embarrassed or afraid of being vulnerable. The walls that I’d erected around my heart after Grammie died were long gone, obliterated by Colt.
But there was something I had to say before I broke apart completely. “I watched Grammie die. Slowly, at first. She suffered for a long time, and then she was gone. Even though I was by her side, she died alone. You’re born alone and you die alone, no matter what anyone tells you.” I frowned. “I don’t know if what you said is a good enough reason for me, Colt. Do I hate the idea of you being old without me? Yeah, I do. But will having children really ease the burden of loss? I can’t say. I don’t know. But I think, we’re supposed to want better for our children than we had. It’s one thing for me to choose this life. Choose you and all the shit that comes with it. It’s quite another to have kids and bring them into a world where a skewed moral compass is the norm, with mentors and protectors that break laws and teach them it’s okay to do it. I just don’t know, Colt.”
He was silent for a long moment, his dark eyes murky without giving away any emotion.
Was he upset about what I’d said? He was good enough for me. But was he good enough to be the father of the children I didn’t even know I wanted?
“Call Shelly,” he said finally. “Invite her and her fiancé to our party.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling cold down to my bones.
“Okay.” I bit my lip. “Are you mad at me? For what I said?”
“No.”
“Then why are you—”
“I’m mad because your words have merit.” He got off the bed and went to the dresser to grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I just need a bit, all right?”
Nodding, I left the bedroom, closing the door behind me. We were both strong people. Strong-willed, strong emotionally.
But were we strong enough as a couple to weather the truth?
Chapter 17
I didn’t call Shelly.Not after the discussion Colt and I’d had about children. It was one thing to sayI love you.It was another to decide whether or not you were going to create a new life together. Just because you loved someone didn’t mean it was forever. Maybe it had been that way for Colt’s parents. Maybe they’d chosen each other above all else and it didn’t matter if they agreed or disagreed about the big things.
I’d never witnessed a long marriage. Gramps hadn’t even been alive when I was born. I hadn’t grown up with a father, and I’d never seen my mother interact with another man. Even though she’d passed when I was really young, there was no hazy vision of me spending time with any father figure.
“This is why I don’t do relationships,” I muttered, loading the few dishes that rested in the sink into the dishwasher.
“Why don’t you do relationships?”
I jumped and yelped, not having heard Colt approach. A coffee mug slammed against the faucet and broke into a few large pieces. “Damn.”
“Let me clean it up. With your luck, you’re liable to cut the shit out of yourself,” Colt said, his tone gruff. He came all the way into the kitchen and sauntered over to me.
He grasped the pieces of the broken mug and walked to the trash. He wiped his hands on his jeans and then returned to stand directly behind me, caging me in with his hands on the counter. “Why don’t you do relationships?” His breath was warm and teased my skin.
I shivered. “Because I’m not good at them. I say the wrong things because I’m emotional first, rational later.”
“When are you ever rational?” he teased.
