Page 57 of Taking The Shot

She smirked, silently waiting.

"When we get to the house, they stay in the crates until I get the cat litter pans set up," Keith continued, his jaw set with an air of authority Constance hadn’t quite seen in him before.

"Why?" came the chorus from the backseat, like a single, unified protest.

"Because I said so," Keith replied, his gaze resolute.

The kids groaned in disbelief, and Constance leaned over, giving Keith a sidelong look, her lips curling into a playful smile. "Look at you go, tiger. I’m so proud of you."

Keith rolled his eyes, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "I feel like you’re mocking me," he muttered, clearly trying to play it cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

"Oh, I absolutely am," Constance laughed, her voice light with mischief. She patted his leg affectionately. "But you’re doing great. They’re working you over, though."

"No, I’m not," Paige shot back from the backseat, her voice slipping into that whiny tone Constance knew so well. The poor girl hadn’t yet realized she was falling back into the trap she always did. And Keith, bless him, was catching on.

"I will turn this car around and take them back if you let them out early,” Keith declared, his voice stern but amused. "And don’t correct your mother. We’re doing this my way, or not at all."

Constance could barely suppress the whistle of appreciation that bubbled up from her chest. She leaned back in her seat, giving him a slow, exaggerated side-eye.

“Bring that tone to bed, mister…”

Keith’s eyes went wide, a laugh bursting out of him as his face turned the color of a ripe tomato. "Oh, you stop," he sputtered, still trying to hold onto the façade of authority while blushinglike a schoolboy. “The kids are listening, and I’m just—well, I’m trying this out.”

Constance grinned wickedly. "It fits you nicely. Keep it up."

Keith’s laughter rumbled in his chest, his smile wide and infectious. He winked at her, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of affection and mischief.

"You’re dangerous," he teased, and Constance couldn’t help but lean toward him, the playful energy between them crackling in the cramped car as they came to a stop in front of the house.

The kittens continued to meow, the kids pouted, and the chaos of the drive home had felt strangely… perfect. They were adding to their family – in a fashion – and Constance hesitated, watching her husband as he climbed out of the car and admiring the long lines of his body as well as the way he moved.

A sudden thought invaded her mind.

“Let’s carry the kitties inside,” Keith ordered, plucking Kayla out of her booster seat and setting her on her feet, before reaching in to get the carrier. Paige was already out of the car, racing to the other side, and sticking a finger in the carrier as if to say ‘hello.’ As Constance got out of the car, she couldn’t help but watch her family, her mind whirling with awareness as she looked at Keith – only to see him pause as he straightened up, lifting the plastic pans with a bag of cat litter on his shoulder.

The second the kids were out of earshot, having eagerly carried the pet carrier inside like a prized treasure, Constance turned to Keith with an expression so serious it could have halted a freight train.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

“Nothing.”

That earned her a flat, skeptical look. “Constance…”

She inhaled deeply, nerves crackling inside her like static electricity. “Do you want more children?” she blurted out. No preamble, no sugarcoating—just straight to the point. “I mean,we’ve never talked about it, and it just hit me that we’re adding three little furballs to the Boucher family when maybe we should be talking about us—especially after yesterday and the day before.” Her cheeks burned slightly at the implication, but she barreled forward. “I’m not on the pill, and well… things happen.”

His expression didn’t immediately reveal his thoughts, and that made her stomach tighten. He just looked at her—deeply, intently, as if weighing something monumental.

“What doyouwant to do?”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

He nodded slightly, his tone steady and open. “No, I know. You’re asking me to make a decision aboutyourbody—and I won’t do it. Not when we have two perfectly beautiful children waiting on us.”

Her heart did something complicated in her chest—twisting, tumbling—before settling uneasily. “You don’t want one?” she asked, her voice quieter, caught between surprise and something dangerously close to disappointment.

Then, just as swiftly, his expression softened, his lips curving into that smile that had once undone her completely—and still did.

“Constance, I love you. I’min lovewith you—and I love your children like my own. If we had a baby someday, I would be happy. But if we didn’t? I’d still feel complete in my heart, mind, and soul,” he said, his voice rich with tenderness. “I’m not the one who has to carry the baby, deal with morning sickness, or give birth. That’s all you. I just get to enjoy making a child—and then raising it, and I’m doing all of those things now.”

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