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“Says the girl this guy is falling for.”
My heart flutters, and my breathing is heavy as I smash my mouth to his.
All wedding talk disappears as he takes me away into another world, both physically and emotionally.
* * *
I’m exhausted.
We’re back at my house.
We ate breakfast with Gage and Lauren before leaving the hotel early this morning. It’s nice having a social life. Before Kent, it was nonexistent and went back to that after our breakup.
Kyle grabs my foot in his lap and massages it. “This weekend was fun. Thank you again.” He smiles. “Let’s figure out a weekend we can take the kids.”
I love that he thinks of things like that.
That’s when it hits me.
Kyle is great with kids. I saw it with Trey and Gloria. He’ll be a great father to lucky kids someday.
“Do you want kids?” I rush out before I lose the guts to ask.
His hand on my foot stops, and he uses the free one to scratch the back of his neck. “Maybe. Possibly. If it happens, it happens. Maybe adoption is a good idea for me.”
His answer seems rehearsed, as if he conjured up the right words for when I asked him. Sure, he most likely does get asked if he wants to be a father,butwhat guy says he wants kids but is considering taking the adoption route? A guy who’s had to think about it.
Anxiety twists in my gut. “Don’t bullshit me.”
He winces at my response and peers over at me in confusion. “What?”
“You heard Kent’s bitch wife call me barren.”
He nods. “I did, but it’s not my place to bring it up. It’s a personal issue for you, and when you’re ready to trust me with it, you’ll come to me.” He squeezes my foot. “I don’t mind waiting for you to reveal all parts of yourself to me. Do it piece by piece; that’s cool with me.”
“I can’t have children,” I whisper. I told him I was on birth control the first time we had sex because I was afraid of telling him this.
People aren’t sure how to respond when they hear a woman say infertility. Hell, before,Iwouldn’t have known how to respond with that statement.
He nods again, processing what I said without showing an ounce of emotion. Lowering his voice, he says, “You love children.”
“I do,” I answer with a choked-up voice, and my anxiety rushes harder as the tears start.
“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He grabs my arm and pulls me onto his lap.
I stare down and gulp. “That’s why you said you were up for adopting, isn’t it?”
He delves his hand through my hair before lowering it and using the tip of his finger to drag my chin up. “Hey, you don’t know that. Maybe I’ve always wanted to adopt.”
“Always as in the last twelve hours after you heard what Lacy said?”
I sniffle, and my breakdown is coming. My hurt normally comes when I’m alone, and no one’s here to judge me. They can’t see my pain—not my doctor, not my mother or sister, not Kent.
It’s thrown in my face—by my mother, by my sister when I ask her for the children, by Kent when we broke up. Pissed off people never fail to throw other’s misfortune in their faces.
He wipes away my tears. “That doesn’t matter.”
I keep my gaze on him. “So, you did say it because you knew there was a possibility of that. You said it, so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”
