Page 77 of Love, Just In

‘That could be when you’re eighty.’

‘And?’

‘And?What about having kids?’

He raises a brow. ‘So, having children out of wedlock is unacceptable now? Have you joined a church group and not told me?’

‘Has anyone ever found God and not told everyone within a ten-kilometre radius?’

Zac chuckles and stretches a leg out beneath the table, his calf resting against mine. ‘What about you, then?’ he asks as our legs swing lightly back and forth together. ‘Assuming you change your mind on the no-marriage policy, when would you like to do it?’

‘To be honest, if I’m not married by the time I’m thirty, I’m gonna consider myself a failure.’

‘Jeez.’ The glint of the overhanging fairy lights dances in his eyes. ‘No pressure.’

‘I’m serious. I want kids, and there’s a cut-off time for that. You’re a guy, you’re lucky, you don’t have to worry about biological clocks.’

‘You’retwenty-one, you nutjob.’ He knocks my leg with his.

‘Yeah, well, that’s less than ten years until my cut-off, and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly attract boyfriends easily.’

‘Oh, you attract them,’ Zac counters right away. ‘You just don’t want any of them, but trust me, they’re interested.’

His gaze falls to his beer, and a faint spiral of warmth coils up my spine.

‘I’m suresomeonewill marry you when you’re thirty if you’re that desperate,’ he eventually mumbles.

An idea crashes into my head, propelling me to sit forward. ‘Would you?’

Zac’s eyes jump to mine, expanding.

‘What I mean is,’ I continue quickly, ‘if you’re still single when you turn thirty, and so am I, would you marry me?’

Our gazes fuse tightly together, and a strange thickness invades my stomach. ‘If you really want me to,’ Zac replies, sounding a little hoarse.

‘Really?’

His throat flexes. ‘Why not? We get along great. We could have an awesome marriage.’

I blurt a thin laugh. ‘We really could.’

Except getting married would mean we’d have to …

With a will of their own, my eyes travel to Zac’s lips, which are plump against the beer glass he’s gulping from. Kissing Zac is almost too weird to even imagine, but if I closed my eyes and just went with the sensation, I’m sure it could feel amazing. I wonder if he’s the slow, savouring kind of guy who likes to brush lips in a soft, silky kiss, or if he’s the type who grabs a girl’s jaw and crushes his mouth to hers, capturing her tongue and biting at her bottom lip. With lips like his, neither option would suck.

‘Why are you staring at my mouth?’ Zac says throatily. I almost tip back on my stool. ‘I’mnot. I’m just … I was wondering what your beer is like. Is it really hoppy?’

‘Try it.’ He holds out the schooner glass, and I take it and throw back a sip, even though I hate hoppy beers.

‘It’s all right,’ I say, trying not to gag. When I pass the glass back to him, the tips of our fingers rub together, and Zac’s cheeks darken a little.

‘So does this mean we’re engaged now?’ he asks. He’s back to smirking, but his voice sounds breathless.

‘Not yet, Romeo. When we’re thirty.’ I fling a hand up. ‘Actually, no. When we’re twenty-eight.’

‘Twenty-eight? Nine years is too long to wait to get into my pants, huh?’ The suggestive gleam in his eyes sends a flush of heat to my cheeks.

Now I’m the one who sounds a touch winded. ‘It’s because I want to be married for at least two years before having a baby, and I’m not having my first baby any later than thirty.’

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