Page 44 of Raspberry Cake
“Such a dirty talker,” he purred, but stamped his lips to her forehead and stepped back. “Lucky for you I’ve already packed.”
He saw her off. In the rearview mirror, she saw him combing his fingers through his hair and straightening the cap on his head. A few hours later he was finally in her arms, his lips on hers the second he’d dropped his bag.
“How was work?”
“A nightmare,” he laughed. “They jumped on me the second you were out of sight.”
“I’m sorry. I thought they’d do as much.”
“You know I don’t mind.” Flake purred and wove between his ankles, and Renley bent down to scoop him up. “Hi, little one. Miss me?”
“They do seem to be warming up to you. They don’t usually greet people like this.”
“They’d better. I’m here to stay and when I do, I always sneak some treats to them too.” With Flake in one hand, Renley grabbed his bag with the other. “So, kitten, you don’t happen to have a bathtub around here, do you?”
“I do. Are you suggesting I finally use it?”
“You bet I am.”
A little while later, they sat in the steaming bathtub with a glass of wine each and raspberry popsicles. It was a tighter fit than the hotel bath, with Renley’s knees poking above the surface, but it was just as perfect.
“Would you be open to talking about what you see in our future?” he asked once his ice cream had disappeared.
“What do you have in mind?”
“This might sound silly, but what do you see as the goals you have for us?”
“Long term?”
“Yes, maybe five or ten years down the line?”
“I love how you don’t hesitate to see us together so far ahead.”
“Why else would I be dating you if not for that?”
“That is very true.” Then taking a sip of the wine and biting down the last of her treat, she said, “I always saw myself getting married and having kids.”
“How many do you want?”
“Two? I’m honestly not sure anymore, because being a wheelchair mom seems so daunting.”
“May I ask why?”
“Labour scares me anyway, but there’s the whole idea of taking care of someone who depends on me. Because how can I take care of such a tiny human when I often struggle myself?”
Renley ghosted a kiss across the nape of her neck. “You wouldn’t be alone. And let’s be honest, unless something drastically changes in my life,you’dbe the breadwinner and I’d be the stay-at-home dad.”
Her only response was reaching back to thread her fingers through Renley’s hair.
“I’ll be there, I’ve always thought of myself as a hands-on dad—for anything that comes up. I’m sure there are tons of information out there for interabled parents.” With another kiss he let his palms run over her thighs. “So, marriage and kids are goals.”
“Stepping stones,” she whispered.
“Stepping stones?”
“Yes. If you see those as goals they seem like an end, rather than being achievements along the way.”
“Oh—I never thought of that.”
