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“No.”
“Really?” I push.
“No, baby, it doesn't. If you don't want a career, don't have one. If you want to raise babies, raise babies. You want to be a wife? Be a wife. You don't have to have a career to have worth. Allie doesn't work, and she's one of the most worthy women I know.” On an afterthought, he adds, “Probably one of the most busy I know as well.”
I smile big, and a grin hitches his mouth in return.
Breathlessly, but needing to know, I ask, “What do you want?”
He peers sideways at me. “Are you asking me if I want babies, Sadie?”
“I guess I am.”
“Yeah, I do.” My heart feels fluttery and light, slippery and buttery in my chest. I take a quick, hitched inhale that gets caught in my throat when he continues, “You'll make a beautiful mother.”
“I think you will make a great father too.”
His voice is husky and filled with emotion so hot, the flames of it burn me. “What about a husband?”
The air between us grows thick as I whisper, “The best.”
ChapterThirty
Sadie
I've been hot since we had our conversation in the truck. My insides began to boil when Nick’s pitch turned low, and he told me I would make a beautiful mother.
When he asked me what I thought he would be as a husband, I thought I might explode. I have been hot since. I can't seem to shake it, either—this burning yearning inside me. He lit the match and doused me in flame. I want him.
I'm so aroused by him, it's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I've struggled through my French onion soup and my glass of wine because all I want to do is take him to the truck and jump him.
It's not exactly how I figured my first time would go, but I’m not entirely sure I’d complain if it did. I mean, if the man in the truck was Nick, I think I’d even be for losing my virginity like that. Really, I don’t care how it happens, so long as it happens with him.
Still, because I don’t have the lady balls one would need to drag a man for sexy-time in his truck, I’m making the best of my French Onion Soup. Really, it’s not a struggle. I love French Onion Soup, and this one is pretty high up there on my list of the best I’ve tasted, so I can’t complain. And Nick’s steak looks crazy good too, so it would have been a shame to drag him away from that.
Besides, the man wanted to take me out on a date, and I want to give him exactly what he wants. Still, in the back of my mind, I can’t help the niggling that he’s holding back because of my inexperience. Maybe it unsettles him. Maybe I shouldn’t have confessed to him that I’m a virgin after all.
Shoot.
I don’t want him to feel unsettled with me. I want him to feel with me what I feel when I’m with him. Safe. Trusted.Happy…
Good lord, I trust this man so completely, I’d let him play my body like a guitar and strum me to Kingdom Come.
I almost snort at the thought, but thankfully I hold it in and manage, somehow, not to choke on it.
“Do you want dessert?” Nick asks when the waiter takes our plates.
I do. I love dessert. My favorite part about going for dinner is the dessert menu. I don't understand people that eat a meal in a restaurant and get up and leave without looking at the dessert menu. Those people are nutty. Those people have iron clad restraint, which I do not have.
“Absolutely.” I’m already reaching for the dessert menu the waiter brought when he came to take our plates, my eyes landing on the section for cheesecake. I very nearly moan.I love cheesecake.This steakhouse is bound to have a really fricking good cheesecake. Steakhouses always have good cheesecake.
I nibble my lip as I debate between the lime and the raspberry before I lift a brow at him. “You?”
“I'm sure I'll find something on the menu.” His eyes are shining as they watch me, and I think he’s fighting a grin.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You're cute.” Again, his voice is rough. And I feel that same buttery feeling in my belly—the one that's hot and slippery.
