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Gunnar frowns. “Who could regret this?” He lifts her, so their faces are side by side. “No, I don’t fucking regret it. I had a good time, and honestly, I already love this little nugget so much, I don’t want to hand her back. I just… It’s going to get complicated, and I regret not being more prepared for that. I feel like I stole your innocence and your youth.”
“I’m an old soul, who lost her youth a while ago. And you do realize I chose to give myself to you that night. Right? That Ichoseto keep our baby? I made these decisions for myself. As an adult. You didn’t steal shit. If anything, yougaveme things.”
Gunnar looks me over, and nods. “Okay. I’m pretty sure I’m still the villain here, but I appreciate the pardon.”
I razz my lips at him. “At best, you have shades of being morally gray, which — lucky for you — is actually this season’s hottest color. And so we’re clear, I don’t regret any of it, beyond being too chicken to tell you about Viv sooner. I’m grateful for how you were with me that night, and for how you’re being with me now.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmhmm.” I try not to look at him too intensely, because he looks so fucking good with a tiny baby in his massively strong arms, I kind of want to see how many he can hold at once. Is it normal to want more babies so soon after having one? I mean, I fucking love Viv to bits, and I do want to have more kids — one day. But I didn’t realizeone daycould come so quickly. It’s not like giving birth is a super-fun experience, and it’s still relatively fresh in my mind. I should be more wary, shouldn’t I?
I glance at Gunnar and Viv again and feel the same tug in my loins, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Before seeing him today, I may never have figured out how to tell him about Viv, and I definitely wasn’t prepared for him to say he wanted to be involved. I don’t know how to navigate a safe co-parenting situation. I don’t really picture any father figure when I think about the kind of family I want to make. It’s more like me taking care of my kids on my own — like Shelby. A simple, sheltered life, where there’s no chance of some uncommitted guy getting close enough to then leave my kids feeling abandoned someday. Gunnar might stoke my feminine desires and make me feel confusing things, but I’m the only one I trust to stand by my babies through thick and thin.
We walk along in silence for a bit, occasionally adding groceries to the cart. I like watching what he chooses, but I can’t decide what his choices tell me about him.
“You don’t eat many vegetables?” I ask when he continually collects pantry-type items and no greens.
“I grow most things I need,” he says with a shrug. “And I hunt. Mainly, I need ingredients. I like to bake, and meals taste better and are more nutritious when they’re made from scratch.”
Holy shit, did he just got hotter?
I look him over again, taking note of his rougher edges in a way I may have missed before.
“I always have plenty of fruit and veg, if you’d like me to deliver some to you?” he says. “I’d like knowing you’re provided for and eating well,” he adds, giving my sugary cereal the side-eye. “Could I do that for you?”
Is he asking me if he can take care of me? Is it too uncouth to sayhell, yes? I’m a strong, independent woman, so why does the idea excite me so much? Do I like fresh vegetables that much, or is it him? I want to see him again. Feel pleasured and treasured and pampered; feel him inside me.
“That’d be nice,” I say with a polite smile, doing my best to remain calm as my core begins to throb. “I’d appreciate it.”
His face lights up, and he looks quite pleased with himself. “What kind of things do you like to eat?”
Is he asking because he’d go out of his way to indulge me?
“I eat anything,” I say, still smiling.
He drops his gaze to my lips and makes a quiet humming noise. “That makes things easier.”
“I like easy.” I shrug. “The world can be plenty hard enough, without our trying to make it harder.”
I push our shopping cart along, gathering the essentials I need, and I can almost pretend we’re a little family. An on-purpose, happy family, who share the responsibilities of dailyliving. Weirdly, I can imagine us with more kids, and every one of them would feel loved and wanted. It’s not the kind of messed-up family situation that usually consumes my thoughts, where I do everything because my dad doesn’t have a clue what day it is and barely acknowledges my existence.
For some reason, it’s hard to imagine Gunnar being like that. Is it because he implies he wants to provide for his daughter and take care of me?
Even though he’s completely obsessed with the baby girl he’s just met, he keeps looking at me, too. And there’s something about his gaze that makes me feel like I’m someone amazing, who should be awed or something.
He looks back at Viv and sighs so softly, I think his heart may actually be melting inside his chest. He’s known her less than an hour, and he’s head over heels for the girl.
I keep my smile contained and do my shopping, but it’s hard to take my eyes off such a big, handsome man, when he’s being so sweet and tender with a baby who looks impossibly tiny in his arms. “She’s pretty cute, huh?”
“She’s so fucking cute, I want to die,” he says without pause. “You did some real good baking here, Jem.” He beams at me briefly before holding Viv closer, in a protective cuddle, when another shopper walks past.
I want to say,She gets the cuteness from you, because he’s being fucking adorable.
And it’s sexy as hell.
I’ve never thought about guys acting all smitten with their babies, but it’s fuckinghot.
Or maybe it’s him. With his sparkling eyes, rugged beard, broad shoulders, torn jeans, and a Pink Floyd Tee and under an open plaid flannel shirt. Rugged-rocker-mountain man-god.
