Lucas sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Spontaneity is not your thing.”
He sounded so disappointed, I felt bad. “I’m sorry. You know I want to…I just can’t. I have to work this weekend.”
“You don’t have to apologize, it’s OK. I know who I’m talking to. I just miss you is all.”
“I miss you too.” I closed my eyes, melting into the slow, warm hush of his breathing while the icy wind whistled by outside my window. If he were here, I’d roll over and lay my head on his bare chest, listen to his heartbeat.
“You know,” he said softly, and I fantasized that I could feel the vibrations from his voice on my cheek, “sometimes I just want to leave our phone connection open all night just so if I wake up, I could hear you breathing.”
“Really?” Warmth pooled deep in my belly. “That makes me happy.”
“Good. I want to make you happy, Mia. Every day.”
My eyes flew wide open. Every day? What did that mean? I chewed on my bottom lip and wondered how to respond. Was he hinting at something?
Don’t get too excited. Maybe he’s just planning to visit more often.
Which was totally fine, I’d love that and all, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t looking for a little more reassurance about what the future held for us.
When we’d agreed to make a go at a relationship, I’d had to basically give up my dream of being married and starting a family by the time I was thirty. That had always been my plan, but Lucas had been very open about his aversion to marriage, his ambivalence about having a family, and his frustration with what he called my “life deadlines.” Because I was so crazy about him and we had so much fun together, I’d agreed to stop worrying about the future and simply enjoy each other when we could.
But eight months later, it still didn’t come naturally to me. Every time we were together, I fell deeper in love and silently wished he would reconsider discussing the future. Because even though he’d said in Paris that “anything was possible” for us, I felt a little uneasy about such an open-ended relationship. We didn’t date other people, but I had no idea what he actually thought of…us. Where this was headed. And since our time was so limited on visits, I’d never brought up the subject of the future again, unwilling to risk spoiling our precious days together with heavy conversations or, worse, an argument.
“So quiet. Did you fall asleep on me?”
“No. Just thinking about what you said.” I took a breath and continued, “Happy every day sounds amazing.”
I was hoping he’d elaborate, and when he didn’t, I bit my lip before I could ask him if he’d changed his mind about marriage and family. That was not a discussion I wanted to have over the phone at midnight on a Wednesday with an early meeting Thursday morning. But in my gut, I knew that if we were to continue this relationship, it was a discussion we’d have to have.
Soon.
Otherwise I was only setting myself up for heartbreak down the road, because no matter how much I loved Lucas, I wasn’t willing to give up having a family for him, nor did I think he’d ask me to. It didn’t have to happen right away—I wasn’t putting a deadline on it, but I had to know if he saw that happening for us. Because if not…
No. Don’t even think about it.
“I should let you go, love,” Lucas said softly. “You get up so early.”
Saying goodbye every night always made my chest ache a little, but I knew he was right. And I didn’t really trust myself not to bring up The Future. “OK. We’ll talk tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I ended the call and set the phone on my nightstand, my brain still clicking.
I want to make you happy every day.
Chills swept down my arms, and I buried myself deeper under the covers. What would it be like to wake up next to Lucas every morning? To fall asleep in his arms at night? To know that after a tough day at work, he’d be there with a glass of wine, a sympathetic ear, a hug?
Or a spanking.
Those were good too.
I smiled, imagining all the fun things Lucas and I would have time to explore if we had unlimited days and nights together. God, I wanted that. Would he think I was crazy if I brought it up? After all, even though we’d met last June, if you strung together all the time we’d spent in each other’s actual presence, it would be less than a month.
A month.
I scowled.
Yeah, that was pretty f**king crazy.
Flopping onto my side, I punched my pillow to fluff it up, but punching something felt so good, I kept doing it. So what if it’s crazy? I thought getting on that plane to Paris was crazy too, but it brought me to Lucas, didn’t it? Maybe I like crazy. Maybe crazy suits me. Maybe—
I froze, my fist in the air.
Maybe I could get on a plane this weekend after all. Maybe I could go to New York, surprise Lucas, and make him realize that we were perfect for each other and it was time to decide where we were headed. (I could get those eight inches I wanted, too.)
Crazy? Probably.
But it sure as hell was spontaneous. And Lucas liked spontaneity the way I liked lists.
So right after we have crazy, spontaneous I-Can’t-Believe-You’re-Here sex on the living room floor, maybe we’ll make a list of pros and cons about living in New York, and then one for Detroit.
Sex and lists.
My panties were wet already.
Chapter Two
“What’s with you?” Coco asked as soon as our prospective client was out of earshot. We were seated next to each other at a booth in our favorite spot for breakfast before work. Normally the smell of strong coffee and fresh-baked cinnamon rolls made me drool, but I had no appetite this morning.