Page 38 of Made for You
“I told him I loved you,” I admitted. “He said I could have both—the career I’ve built and a life with you. That I didn’t have to choose.”
“Smart man, your father.”
I laughed softly, then sobered. “Since we’re talking logistics … there’s something else we should probably discuss.”
“Hit me.”
I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, using the time to gather my courage. “Last night, when I told you I can’t get pregnant … that wasn’t quite the whole story, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood.”
His hand stilled on my shoulder. “Siena.”
“I know that’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people,” I said, the words coming out in a rush. “If you need time to think about?—”
“Siena.” He shifted, turning to face me fully and cupping my face in his hands. “I had a vasectomy when I was twenty-three.”
I blinked. “You … what?”
“I had a scare with a girl I was seeing. Nothing came of it, but it made me realize I didn’t want kids. Never have. So I made sure it wouldn’t be an issue.” His thumbs stroked along my cheekbones. “I love my nephew, Cole. I love being Uncle Gage. But being a dad? That’s never been something I wanted for myself.”
The relief that washed over me was so profound that it made me dizzy. “I’ve never wanted children either,” I whispered. “Everyone always acts like there’s something wrong with me for feeling that way. Like I’m broken or selfish or?—”
“You’re not broken,” he practically growled, his voice fierce and daring anyone to argue. “And you’re sure as hell not selfish. It’s people who have kids and then treat them like shit or let them practically raise themselves who are selfish. You know what you want, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“My career has always been enough for me,” I said. “Building something lasting, creating spaces where people can make memories—that’s what fulfills me. But everyone always assumes that eventually I’ll want a family, want to settle down and have babies, and when I say I don’t …” I shook my head. “When my doctor suggested a hysterectomy five years ago, I was so happy, Gage. I started crying in her office, and she thought I was heartbroken at the news. I had to explain it was the best thing I’d ever heard. Since then, the looks I get? It’s pity, pure and simple. Like I’m missing out on the greatest joy in life. ”
“Well, fuck them,” Gage said bluntly, making me laugh despite myself. “We get to build exactly the life we want. Just us and whateverwedecide matters.”
I stared at him, this beautiful, stubborn, perfect man who somehow wanted the exact same future I did. “How is this real?” I breathed out. “How did I get this lucky?”
“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You could’ve had anyone. Instead, you’re stuck with a cowboy who spends most of his time covered in dirt and shit, and the time that’s left, fighting the good fight for his valley.”
“Ourvalley,” I corrected softly. “And you’re wrong. I couldn’t have hadanyonebecause I’ve only ever wanted to give myself to you.”
His eyes darkened, that familiar heat sparking between us. “Siena.”
“I mean it.” I shifted to straddle his lap, my hands framing his face the way he had framed mine. “From that first night you sidled up to me at the bar, it’s only been you. Even when I was lying to myself about what this was, even when I was trying to convince myself it was just physical—it was always you.”
“Christ, woman.” His hands gripped my hips, holding me against him as he pressed his hips up into me. “You can’t say things like that and not expect me to?—”
“To what?” I challenged, rolling my hips just enough to make him groan. “Take me upstairs? Tie me to the bed and show me exactly what our future’s going to look like?”
“Yes, that,” he growled, standing and taking me with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, laughing as he carried me toward the stairs.
“This is becoming a habit,” I teased.
He took the steps two at a time. “I plan on it being a habit for the rest of our lives.”
When we reached the bedroom, he set me down on my feet, his hands immediately moving to the buttons of my blouse. But this time was different from all the others. There was nodesperate rush, no frantic need to get naked and lose ourselves in sensation.
This was reverent. Worshipful.
He undressed me slowly, pressing kisses to each inch of skin he revealed, whispering words of love and devotion that made my heart swell until I thought it might burst. And when I undressed him, I did the same—mapping the landscape of his body with my hands and mouth, memorizing every scar and freckle and perfect imperfection.
When he finally lay me down on the bed and settled between my thighs, our eyes locked as he pushed inside me in one slow, perfect glide.
“I love you,” he breathed, starting to move.
“I love you,” I gasped back, my hands sliding up his back.
