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“Me too,” he says softly. “I feel the same. Like, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing.”
“It’s the wrong time,” I say, “and we never talked about this. We never—”
“I do. I do want us to have kids, Lori.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he says brushing the hair from my eyes. “I do, but do you?”
“Apparently, I do. I hadn’t thought of it and I feel afraid of what I could lose right now. You have to feel the same.”
“Oddly, the moment I thought you were pregnant, that feeling faded. Like new life, somehow, heals the past, but like you said, this isn’t our time.”
“When is the right time?”
“We’ll know. You’ll know. When you’re ready.”
“When I’m ready?”
“You are still establishing your career. We’re chasing your dream and we’re going to enjoy every step of the way.”
“And you’re still establishing the firm.”
“So, we wait. We enjoy each other, but if it happens by accident, let’s not panic. Besides, we’ll make beautiful babies together.”
I smile. “We will, won’t we?”
“Yes,” he says, cupping my face. “And this is you and me. Together. Whatever happens.”
“Together. Whatever happens.”
“No one gets to take that from us. I promise.”
Chapter seventy
Lori
Cole and I exit the bathroom to find Cat and Reese at the kitchen island with a bottle of wine and four glasses they’ve already filled. Cat lifts the one meant for me. “Wine?” she asks, her way of finding out my test results.
“Yes,” I say. “I would like some wine.”
Cat winks. “Told you.”
Cole reaches for his wine. “Why not wash two whiskeys down with wine.”
“Exactly my thoughts tonight,” Reese says. “And that’s why God made car services. I also vote we order pizza, because I’m starving.”
“My pastry butt is never going away,” I declare.
Cole glances down at me. “Pastry butt?”
“I ate too much in Paris.”
“But it was fun,” he reminds me, his eyes warm.
“Yes,” I agree, my cheeks flushing with the memory of him spanking me in that hotel room. “It was—fun.”
He gives me a knowing look, his eyes burning hot. “We should do that again.”
