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“Jesus,” he says, lifting his head, “zero to sixty in two seconds.” He bends and, to my shock, sweeps me up into his arms.
“You’ll drop me,” I say with a squeal, conscious that I’m not small, and now I also have two little people inside me.
But he just laughs, somehow manages to toss the duvet aside, climbs onto the bed, and deposits me carefully so I’m lying back on the pillows. “I bench press more than you weigh every day.”
“Ooh.” I look up at him as he rests back on his heels and tugs off his All Blacks shirt, revealing his broad chest and impressive biceps. “You sure know how to turn a girl on.”
He tosses the shirt aside and laughs, puts his phone on the bedside table, removes his jeans and boxers, slides off my underwear, then lowers down beside me. He pulls me into his arms, then draws the duvet over us so we’re warm and cozy.
“Music?” I ask.
He grins, retrieves his phone, and pulls up Spotify. “Barry White?” he asks, and chuckles at my expression. He purses his lips, types something in, presses a few buttons, then puts the phone aside. John Mayer starts playingGravity, and my lips curve up.
“Nice,” I whisper.
We’re lying on our sides, facing each other. He pulls me as close as he can, our legs interlocking, his arms around me.
“Don’t need a condom,” I say.
His eyebrows lift. “I guess not.”
I gaze up into his brown eyes. “I hope our boys look like you.”
He smiles. “Two little Chevaliers.” Propping his head on a hand, he runs a finger down my neck and across my collarbone. “After the twins are born, I think we should have a girl who looks exactly like you.”
He mentioned having more children at his parents’ house, but I didn’t think he was serious. “You really want more kids?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you should wait and see how you feel when these are born before you make your mind up.”
He shrugs. “Nah. Won’t change my mind.”
“You’re not going to get any sleep.”
“I don’t sleep well anyway.”
“There’ll be screaming. Some of it from the babies.”
He laughs, stroking over my shoulder, down my arm, then back up. “We’ll cope. Don’t you think it would be nice to have a large family? Lots of kids running around causing havoc?”
I think about a possible future where I live in this house, near the beach, with Saxon. A baby on my hip, him teaching the boys how to play rugby outside. All of us sitting up the table having dinner. Tucking the boys in bed at night, reading them a bedtime story. It’s a future I never thought would exist for me. And here it is, glimmering in the distance like an oasis in the desert. I hope it’s not a mirage.
“Ah,” he says, “don’t cry.”
I sniff. “I don’t think you can choose the sex of a baby. What if we had another boy?”
“I don’t care if we have ten.”
“I’m not having ten babies. I’ll look like an elephant.”
“I didn’t mean all at once.”
We both laugh. “Seriously,” I say, “I’ll be all saggy and wrinkly like a circus tent after it’s taken down, and you won’t love me anymore.” I stop then, because I didn’t mean to say the L word. I don’t ever want to assume anything with this man.
He lifts up onto his elbow and sinks his hand into my hair. “I don’t care about any of that. You’ll always be the girl who knew all the Doctor Whos in order. I’ll always love you.”
He kisses me then, so I can’t reply, but emotion fills me at his words. Apart from my mother, who I lost when I was twelve, nobody has ever said they love me before.
