Page 46 of Mismatched

“Things have been good... getting better. Would you agree?”

She nods against me.

I raise one hand to stroke her hair. “I enjoy learning what turns you on. It’s fucking hot.”

She smiles. “Then why stop?”

“Because we’ve worked hard for this—for sex to be fun.” I pull back to look into her eyes. “I don’t want to lose track of that.”

“A break . . .” she says. “For how long?”

“Until you’re ready.”

She furrows her brow. “And what makes you think I’m not ready now?”

“Lydia,” I say flatly. “Look at me and tell me you’re dying to have period sex.”

Her face says it all. And even though I can think of a dozen ways for us to get off where blood wouldn’t be a factor, I smile, pull her close, and wrap her tightly in my arms.

Several heartbeats go by. Then she whispers, “Should... should I go back on birth control?”

“No—why?” The words fly out of my mouth a little too quickly, and I feel myself flush. “I mean... Um, do you want to?”

“Do you still want a baby?” she asks softly.

“Yes. I do, very much.” I let out a long breath, tangling my fingers in her hair. “I can’t think of anything more wonderful than starting a family with you. But I don’t want to obsess about making it happen when we should just... enjoy each other.”

She nods, and something seems to ease in her eyes as she pulls the heating pad back over her stomach. “Okay.”

I hold her close, resisting all my natural urges to stroke under her shirt. Breathe her in. Seek solace in her skin. It can wait until she’s ready, till she comes looking for it. Instead, I snuggle her against my chest, keeping her close and safe. Our little family, such as it is.

We spend the afternoon that way, lazing in each other’s arms. But that evening, after Lydia’s taken another bath and gone to bed, I open my calendar and start doing math in my head.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“So, as you can see, Pooch Park II is slightly bigger, but I managed to squeeze in elements I always wished we had at our first location. The dogs can be indoors or out based on the weather, and we have this fun outdoor turf space with misters, wading pools, and lots of shade when it’s hot.”

Marisol scans the outdoor area from where we stand behind a fence. “This is so adorable, so perfect,” she says with a wide smile. “Hey, what kind of dog is that?”

I follow her gaze and grin, watching the one she’s pointing to hop around, attacking a hose as one of my employees tries to refill a pool. “That’s actually my Akita mix, Heartthrob.”

“Heartthrob?” She chuckles. “How did he get that name?”

I smile at the memory. “When we first adopted him, he was so young, I got him this little pillow that made comforting heartbeat sounds. My husband used to tease that I was more in love with the puppy than with him, so I started calling him my little Heartthrob.” I shrug. “It just stuck.”

Marisol arches a brow at me, and it seems like she’s about to ask another question, but then a bloodhound in the corner starts baying at two wrestling puppies, which sets a cattle dog barking for the sake of hearing his own voice, and the chorus of noise makes it impossible to have further conversation. I gesture toward the door back inside.

As we reenter reception, we peek back through the window into the little dog area to check on Marisol’s terrier, Biscochito.

“Looks like he’s found a friend in Carmelita,” I say.

Marisol joins me at the window, watching her pup chase around with Henry’s fawn French bulldog. Her smile is wide. “Thank you so much for inviting me today. I’ve loved seeing your Pooches. My hands have been full with Paloma since my separation, but I’m going to sign up for a weekly package. Poor Bizkit hasn’t had enough exercise.”

“Did you ever find a kid daycare you like?” I ask, mostly for conversation. She doesn’t have her little girl with her today.

“We’re on waitlists for a couple.” She exhales. “She’s with her dad today.”

Her face is pinched, and I wish I had something to offer. I liked Marisol the first time we met, but after spending an afternoon together, I definitely feel like we could be friends. She knows hundreds of interesting little business hacks, and I appreciate her quick sense of humor. But I definitely don’t know her well enough to comment on something so personal just yet.

---