“You’re serious?” I breathe, and his head tilts to the side, studying me.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think this qualifies as going slow,” I point out, and he grins.
“It’s slow to me.”
“What if things go bad?” I ask, and he pulls me impossibly closer.
“I don’t see that happening, but if it makes you feel more secure, we can rent out my place for the winter to the skiers who come in, make some money off it, and save the cash for our wedding.”
“Now you’re talking about marriage?” I feel my eyes go impossibly wider, and he looks somewhere to my right, muttering something under his breath. “This is not slow!” I cry, smacking his shoulder.
“The kids are happy. I am happy, and I think you’re happy too, unless I’m missing something.”
“No, I’m happy, and I think the kids are happy, but living together and marriage…” He tugs me down to sit on his thigh then places his face an inch from mine, running his fingers through my hair, holding me in place.
“I want us to start a life together—you, me, and the kids. I want to come home to you, go to sleep next to you. I want to hear you nagging the kids about eating vegetables over dinner, and listen to you call my daughter gorgeous in a way I know she feels it. I want all of that and more with you, until I take my last breath.”
“If you make me cry, I won’t be able to explain that to the kids,” I say, feeling warmth spread through me and that hole inside of me fill up even more.
“Then don’t cry. Just tell me you’re on the same page as I am. Tell me you want the same things I want.”
“I want that—well, except the nagging part, since it’s not nagging, but good parenting. Kids should eat vegetables, and you could help me with that by eating them as well, without complaining,” I ramble, watching him smile.
“I’ll eat my veggies, baby, as long as I get to eat you for dessert.”
“Don’t turn me on before the kids come back either,” I grouch, and his smile turns smug.
“Fuck, but I wish we had time,” he says against my mouth, before kissing me deep and wet, making me wish we had more time before the kids are due back.
“What do you think about this top?” I ask Aubrey, holding up a cute, long-sleeved, navy blue shirt that is shorter in the front and longer in the back.
“It’s cute, but I don’t know if it’s me,” she says, and I hold it out in front of her, closing one eye.
“It would look really adorable with a pair of the leggings you picked up, that black vest you chose, and your black mid-calf boots you wore a week ago,” I propose, and she takes it from my grasp, looking at it.
“Do you really think so?”
“Just try it on. If you like it, they have it in a few colors,” I suggest, and she shrugs then goes to the dressing room with an armful of clothes.
This morning, before we left the hotel, I asked Zach about Aubrey’s clothing choices, and he told me that Tina has always been in charge of taking the kids clothes shopping. Since Aubrey has refused to be a part of it, Tina has just gotten her whatever, probably thinking if it’s hideous she will want to pick out her own stuff.
I didn’t point out that her plan wasn’t working, but did ask if I could go with her to a few shops and show her some stuff. I’m not sure if he was just being a man or if he really wanted me to take her, but he agreed to my plan without any argument.
Taking a seat outside the dressing room, I look at my phone and send a message to Zach, letting him know we should be done soon. He, Steven, and Hunter all left us two hours ago with plans to see some superhero movie. Hunter and Steven were done shopping and made it clear they wanted out of the mall. Zach wasn’t far behind them in reaching his limit, which was fine with me.
“Do you really think this is okay?” Aubrey asks, stepping out of the room she went into moments ago. I drop my cell into my bag and lift my head.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper. The shirt fits her perfectly and shows off her waist, and the leggings make her look young, hip, and very stylish. “It’s perfect, but how do you feel?” I ask, seeing she seems unsure.
“I don’t know. It’s not what I’m used to, but it’s still comfortable.” She shrugs.
“You look beautiful, honey,” I say gently, setting my bag in the chair next to me and standing. “And clothing doesn’t have to be uncomfortable to be stylish.”
“I just don’t know if this is really me.”
“You still look like you.” I grab the vest she picked out and help her into it then take a step back. “You’re a beautiful girl, and no matter what you wear, that beauty shines through.” She looks at herself in the mirror then looks at me and lets out a long breath.
“Do you think I’m too fat to wear this?” she asks, and something uneasy hits me, but I move past it, remembering how I felt at her age. Hell, how I feel even now some days. The world can be a cruel place, and everyone seems to have an opinion of what beauty is and what a woman’s body should look like.
“Not one part of you is fat, and I really hope you don’t think you’re overweight, because you’re not, not even a little bit.”
“Steven has abs, and I—”
“And you’re a girl. Girls have curves. We were meant to have curves. They’re nothing to be embarrassed about or feel unsure of. Right now, you have the body of a young girl, and one day, you will have the body of a woman. Your beauty should be embraced. It’s not always easy, but you should love who you are. You are perfect.”