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“Asleepover?” Kane asks, hamming it up for my benefit, trying to make me giggle and almost succeeding.
“Isn’t Blake that boy with ahot, older mom?” he adds. His voice practically booming the words as I start to lose my composure.
“Dad…,” Marcus groans, turning to me. The sane and adult voice of reason. “Mom? Can I have a sleepover at Blake’s?”
“Of course, you can, honey. Thank you for letting us know,” I say sweetly.
“Thanks,” he smiles, turning to go but pausing at the door.
“I dunno why you guys think sleepovers are so funny. It’s just staying over at someone’s house. There’s nothingweirdgoing on,” Marcus says with a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
Both Kane and I nod and agree quietly, putting our serious parent faces back on. But only until he’s closed the door and his heavy steps disappear down the hall.
“Here we go again,” Kane groans, rolling his eyes. “This is how it starts, remember?” he asks me, and I finally crack up.
“Hey!” I call out over him. “How would you know if Blake has an older, hot mom?” I ask him.
“I don’t,” Kane admits, shrugging. “I was just winding him up.”
“Maybe we should be more careful,” I suggest. “We don’t wanna give the kids a complex about having sleepovers.”
Kane grunts in agreement, suddenly acting all tired from all his editing and the long week we’ve just had.
After closing his laptop, he pecks my cheek goodnight, and we turn out the lights.
His huge hands reach for me under the covers after about three seconds of darkness.
“You awake?” he whispers.
“Ummm. Yeah,” I reply, knowing exactly what’s coming.
“You wanna have a sleepover with me? Tonight?” he asks, trying his best to keep his tone serious.
I giggle softly, rolling over to face him and stroking his cheek.
“I wanna have a sleepover with youevery night, remember,” I tell him, leaning over and whispering in his ear exactly what I want him to do to me.
Making his eyes grow wide as he pretends he’s hearing it for the first time.
“We did good, didn’t we, Jen?” he asks me suddenly. Crimping his mouth as he holds back a wave of emotion.
“Yeah,” I whisper back, feeling a lump in my throat when I think of the twenty amazing years we’ve had so far. “Yeah, we did good,” I agree.
And just like our first night together, Kane holds me so tight but tender. So lovingly as he kisses me.
In the same house, the same room even.
Twenty years of wedded bliss and the man can still make me laugh, cry, and a whole lot more—all in the same night.
“Happy Anniversary, darling,” he rasps. “Here’s to twenty more years.
“Happy Anniversary, Kane,” I whisper back.
“Best sleepovers ever,” he reminds me.
And we take our time, reminding each other just how special they are.
Every single minute of it.
