Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,218

break their lock, and I want so badly to confess what’s been running through my mind for days.

I love you. I want to make a life with you. I want to be the man who you lean on.

I want to care for your children.

The thoughts shock me just as much as they probably shock anyone who knows me in the slightest. For years, I’ve said I don’t want marriage. That kids aren’t for me. But until you get a taste of the one life that you know, for sure in your heart, you’re supposed to live … you can’t know how much you really do want those things.

Penelope is my taste, and now I want the entire restaurant.

“Penelope …” I begin, so nervous that I’m not even sure how I’ll get the words out.

She snuggles closer. “Mmm, I’m so glad we could have an easy night. This is exactly what I wanted for my birthday. No flowers, or candles, or some movie-level grand gesture. Just sex in my own bed, and you.”

Her head tilts up, her green eyes appreciative. “Thank you for just following my simple wishes.”

All the air in my balloon-like heart deflates. This is what she wants. Simplicity, nothing complicated or dramatic. Penelope asked me here, and sent her kids out for the night because she wants to enjoy me … separately from her actual life.

I burn with embarrassment and foolish pride. Am I a fucking idiot? What kind of love potion had my brothers spiked my iced tea with at poker night?

Two seconds ago, I’d been about to spill my most romantic feelings and notions to this woman … who clearly likes our easy, no-strings relationship.

So, I keep silent, shutting off the part of me that yearns for more.

“Of course. Anything for you, P.”

And that is the truth. I’d do anything for her. Even if it didn’t fall in line with what I truly want.

30

Penelope

“I can’t believe you didn’t let us celebrate your birthday.”

Lily is still pouting, three days after I turned thirty-one, as we sit in the stands at Ames’ karate lesson.

These days, the only time I can spend with my friends is in the bleachers of their sporting events. And that’s if my friends don’t mind coming to gossip about their perfect married lives while sleep-deprived parents sit around watching their four-year-old’s kick at air.

“I turned thirty-one, Lil. It’s not like we could go to Vegas for the celebration of my legal drinking age. It just means I have more wrinkles now.”

“Birthdays are special,” my best friend whines.

Lily has always been … well, a librarian. The perfect, organized, girl next door who shows up to a Christmas party with perfectly wrapped presents, complete with a bow. For my baby shower, when I was pregnant with Travis Jr., she froze tiny sprigs of bluebells into the ice cubes and made a diaper cake six tiers high. On her birthday this year, Bowen found a horse-drawn carriage to take her around a park like Cinderella.

I may love her, but her idea of holidays and traditions are extra as fuck.

“Anyway, how is the kitchen remodel going? Or are you guys making babies instead of making countertop decisions?” I rib her, trying to get the information I actually want.

Lily blushes, just like she does any time I talk about her sex life with Bowen. The little freak, she’s the one who lost her virginity in a public park gazebo.

“We’re going to enjoy being married for a while. We wasted so many years … Bowen and I are just happy to have some couple time before we add a baby to the mix.”

“But he does want them, right?” Grilling her is my job as a best friend.

And because I know she wants children, I better not hear that Bowen is reluctant.

Lily looks around, ducking her head to quietly talk. And that’s when you know you’re going to be told the good stuff, when someone lowers their voice.

“If it were up to Bowen, I’d be pregnant and barefoot like, a month ago.”

My mouth forms a wide O. “So why aren’t you? If he’s ready to pull the goalie, I’d think you’d be thrilled.”

She looks away, shrugging her shoulders. “I just … I’m unsure. Not if I want children, of course, I love the idea of being a mom. But am I ready?”

Her words remind me of a much younger version of myself. One who was terrified and doubtful, a young married woman that wasn’t quite sure she could be responsible for