Page 109 of Flame
Last night and this morning couldn’t have been better. We stayed up late, sharing stories and snacking on leftover pizza from earlier in the evening. Our conversations were unrushed. It was exactly like it should’ve been—like we have the rest of our lives to learn about each other. And then this morning, we woke up before our alarm and lazily started our day. Our relationship is now peppered with kisses and touches, smiles and unspoken promises.
This is a fantastic start to our marriage.
“I don’t know what to do with my house, though,” I say as we turn into Kismet Beach.
The colorful buildings stream by as we make our way through town. It’s exciting to think that this is my new home and I’ll have time to explore it. To get to know the people. I can have friends.
I’ll have a life.
I smile at my husband.
I’ll have a life with him.
“You don’t have to sell it right away,” he says, squeezing my hand. “We can take this at whatever speed you want.”
“True. But what do you think about having a few pieces of furniture that I love brought down here? I know you have everything, but I would like to have a couple of things.”
He laughs. “Bring whatever you want. It’s your house now, too, you know.”
“Hey.” My brow furrows. “Did we sign that prenup?”
His head whips to mine. “No. We didn’t.”
I shrug.
“Don’t shrug at me.” He squeezes my hand again before letting it go. “We need to do that as soon as we get home.”
“I’m not that worried about it.”
“Maybe not. But you’re going to protect yourself.”
“Why? Are you marrying me for my money?”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t give a fuck about your money.”
“Good.” I sigh happily. “But I’m bringing it with me. It doesn’t make you happy, but it’s fun to spend when you're happy.”
He laughs, shaking his head.
I know we’ll have to have conversations about things like money, and jobs, and whether Foxx will let me be his sugar mama.A topic I know has no chance of flying. But we’ll have to work all of that out … in due time.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Just all the things we have to sort through and the decisions we have to make as a married couple.” My stomach tightens. “For example, do you want to have children?”
“With you?”
I gasp. “No, with …” I narrow my eyes. “I’m not even joking about that. Of course, with me. Asshole.”
He laughs. “Yes, I want to have children with you. I’ll have as many as you want. Well, until the first one comes out like Banks or Tate. That’ll be it. We’re done.”
“Fair enough.”
We pull onto Honeysuckle Lane. A line of chickens crosses the road in front of us. For some reason, it feels like the perfect welcoming home committee.
“I have to get my car down here, too,” I say. “This passenger princess thing is great until it’s not.”
“Where do you have to go?”
