doesn’t want a birthday party either. I know you mentioned that to her. But she is afraid that if she invites her classmates, no one will come. I’m scared she might be right. I think it’s better to just do something small at home.”
I sighed. “That really sucks. But I don’t want to traumatize her. Any more than she already has been.” I brushed Dakota’s hair back off of her forehead. “Thank you for caring. You’re a very compassionate person.”
“I care about the girls. A lot. We need to do some investigating into what Poppy is cooking up, by the way. She keeps asking me to smell weird liquids.”
That thought made me groan. “Do I have to?”
Dakota laughed softly. “Yes, you do. Sorry, buddy, that’s what being a parent means.”
“Do you want to have kids?” I asked, impulsively. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted her answer to be, but I needed a hint. When I had seen her holding the neighbor’s baby at my sister’s, something had twisted inside my gut.
“I don’t know,” she said, simply. “I used to think no way, but then I got older and I thought maybe I’d be open to it. I can’t commit to a yes or a no at this point.” She adjusted her pillow. “Why do you want to know that?”
“You would be a good mother. You’re great with the girls.” It was true.
“Do you want more kids?” she asked.
Before, I would have said a hard no to the idea. That I was already stretched too thin. But with the right woman? “I can’t commit to a yes or no at this point.”
She smiled. “Then you understand where I’m coming from.”
I nodded. “I do.” What I didn’t understand was how we thought any of this was going to end well. Given that we had said this was temporary. The thought that she would be leaving, at any time, was starting to really get to me. I hated a looming deadline that would just, what, end our relationship? It probably would and that sucked.
“So… what exactly are we doing, Dakota? You just got into my bed like we’re a couple, talking about the kids. If you put hand lotion on and start reading a book next, we’re basically married.”
I didn’t dislike it. At all. That was the terrifying part.
Dakota burst out laughing, then realized she was too loud. She clamped her hand over her mouth.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “The thought of being married to me?”
She shook her head and rolled over. She reached for the nightstand and showed me she had both hand lotion and a magazine stashed over there in the drawer.
I grinned as I shook my head. “See what I mean? What the hell are we doing?”
“Are you proposing to me?” she asked. “Because if you are, this is a lousy-ass proposal.”
Given the amusement on her face, she wasn’t serious, but I realized I may have led into this conversation poorly. “No, I’m not proposing, I’m just wondering where we go from here when you move on in a few months.”
“Hmm. I know it’s only temporary but do we have to think about the future right now? Can’t we just enjoy it?”
I wasn’t sure I was wired that way. It felt like we had agreed to a purely sexual relationship, but that it was obviously much more than that. We were sharing our lives. From the most mundane tasks of laundry and grocery shopping together, to making critical decisions about my daughters. We shared a bed, even if it wasn’t officially our bed.
It was partly the circumstances of living together. A lot had to do with her caring for my children. But it also had to do with the fact that we sought each other out. That we wanted to talk, to watch TV together, to share the same space.
Or maybe that was just me.
Because I had the sneaking suspicion I was falling in love with her.
Dakota put her hand on my chest and lightly scratched her nails across my bare chest.
“I am enjoying it,” I said, putting my hand on her wrist so she would stop touching me and distracting me. I couldn’t keep a single train of thought when she put any effort into turning me on.
“Our only two options are to continue the way we are or be open about our relationship, whatever it is.”
“We can’t do that. The girls would want to know if we’re dating, if we’re together for real, if it’s going to