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“And I’ve loved every single night,” I promised her, reaching for my toothbrush. The scene was so…domestic. So ordinary. And I loved it.
Daisy’s hoodie was in my hamper, along with the yoga pants that had held my attention all evening. Her pajamas were simple, just a tank top and my boxers—so fucking hot. I’d taken note of her preferred products and had everything she liked duplicated in my bathroom, from her shampoo to her tampons, making it not only easy for her to spend the night, but logical.
Because I wanted it to make sense for her to spend as much time with me as possible.
I started to brush my teeth, and she did the same. Even the way we handed over the toothpaste was domestic, as if we’d been sharing space for years, not…well…whatever day this was.
“You’re going to be a great father one day,” she said randomly after we’d finished both our night routines.
I blinked across the king-size bed at her. “What makes you say that?”
“The way you take care of me.” She smiled, and my heart somersaulted. “Or was that not my exact line of skin care in there?” She hoisted an eyebrow.
“I like having you here,” I admitted. “It seemed…efficient to stock up so you wouldn’t have to pack a bag. Trust me, my motives are purely selfish.” The corners of my mouth tipped up. “Though I will say it’s nice of you to say that you think I won’t fuck up my kids.”
“Oh, I never said that.” She laughed, climbing into bed next to me and taking her laptop with her. I’d known that was part of the deal of her staying—she needed to finish her word count for the day. “I think every parent, no matter how good they are, inevitably fucks their kid up in some way. I just think you’ll be a fantastic dad.”
“Uh. Thank you.”
You know everything you need to know about someone in the first two weeks. That’s what Harper had said, and yet I hadn’t done my basic research on Daisy, found out the answers to the questions I asked every woman I dated. I’d simply jumped in, feet first, willing to take whatever she wanted to give because I was already addicted to her.
“Do you want kids?” I asked, pulling back the covers and fighting to keep my eyes off her incredible breasts as they strained at the fabric of her tank top. My sexual wants and desires were not going to be the reason the woman didn’t get her work done tonight, and I wasn’t going to give her a reason to say no the next time I asked her to stay with me for the night.
“Oh yeah,” she answered, her eyes sparkling. “A whole horde of them.”
“A horde?” I climbed into the bed and turned on my side, bracing my head with my hand. “Is that a technical number? Or is it more than a gaggle, but less than a flock?”
She laughed and settled her laptop on her lap. “It means I want three or more.” She shrugged. “I figured trying for three and just letting the others happen as they…happen.”
Three kids. I imagined dark, curly haired boys with her deep brown eyes and girls with my darker hair and hazel eyes. They’d all have Daisy’s smile, her laugh, her ability to see the best in the world. Yeah, I could do three…but I’d take as many as she’d give me.
Holy fuck, jump ahead of yourself much?
“What about you?” she asked, opening her computer and glancing at me with a curious, non-judgmental look.
“Three sounds good. More is better.” I knew whatever I said would be fine with her, that she didn’t have some neurotic checklist for a future spouse…not like I somehow still did. But I found myself not quite caring that she didn’t tick off every box. The very criteria I’d used for the last decade didn’t mean shit when it came to Daisy because…well…just because.
She made me feel like we could break every rule and still come out on the other side unscathed.
“More is better,” she repeated with a little smile, opening her document.
“Just no sending them to boarding school,” I clarified. That had been one of my breaking points with the Woodsinger woman. “I want my kids to have every advantage, including their parents being all up in their business.”
“Okay.” Daisy turned, and there was concern in her eyes.
“And no pressure, either,” I continued. “I want them to have every door open to them, but they only have to walk through the ones they choose. And I won’t choose for them.” I shook my head. The pressure my parents put on me made me the man I was today—logically, I knew that. I just didn’t want the same for my kids.
“Okay, Ash.” Daisy leaned over, cupped my face in her hand and kissed me softly, reassuringly. It wasn’t passionate, but sweet, and all the better for it. “No boarding school. No pressure.” She kissed me again. “I like that.” Her lips curved into a smile against mine. “I like you.”
