And it’s not the bagels I’m feeling in there.
Maybe that’s why he wants a family. Maybe that’s why I do too, we’ve never known any ourselves.
I hear Mason winding his call down, I know it’s not on a happy note either from his tone. I hum as loud as I can to let him know I’m coming.
I suddenly want to tell him that he can have me barefoot and pregnant if he wants, that all I want in this life is him, him, and his children.
Inside me and all around us.
If money’s no problem, then I don’t have to work. I can work at what I feel like doing best, loving my man, and raising our kids.
Why should life be any more complicated than that?
Mason’s better at dealing with some things than I am, and he looks like he’s dealt with his own demons in a matter of seconds.
I can’t say I’m sad to see that phone cord ripped from the wall either, I don’t want anyone bugging us unannounced anymore either.
I ask if he’s okay and he replies by asking which kind of dogs I was thinking of.
It makes me smile, proving that Mason is thinking like I am, not worrying so much about the business side of his life.
But that still concerns me too.
I nestle myself between his legs as he sits on a stool, his big arms wrapping around me and his nose touching mine.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask him in reply, knowing that once he’s made his mind up its how things will be.
“Dogs?” he says, smiling. “Absolutely! But you’re right, we’d need a house first. Can’t have a pack of mutts running around up here,” he says, looking around as if he’s already considered having dogs.
As if dogs are the only thing we’re really talking about.
“I mean… moving from here. Not being one door away from your boardroom,” I explain.
“Everything has happened so fast, Jules. I know it has,” he says calmly, hugging me close and then pecking my lips.
“But I know when it’s time for a change. I always have. I feel it in my bones,” he explains, and gently guides my hand to his lap.
“Feel that?” he asks, grinning like a maniac, making me laugh until I gasp, curling my fingers around his thickness.
“I feel it,” I hear myself moan lightly. “But I’m serious. I don’t want you to wake up in a week or a month and look at me, thinking if it wasn’t for me you could have done so and so…”
Mason grunts, frowning.
“I just don’t want you to become another Nicholas,” I say out loud, regretting it straight away. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly.
“How much did you hear?” he asks. Then, “Or rather, how much did you figure out for yourself just now?”
“It’s none of my business,” I let him know. “I just don’t want you making rash decisions when you’re-”
He interrupts me, smiling. Squeezing me tighter.
“When I’m what? In love?”
I feel my breath catch, then shiver. I realize too that maybe I’m the one who’s scared of making a commitment.
Maybe I’m the one who feels a little, okay… a lot afraid of changing her life overnight.
“I do love you, Jules. More than any words can say,” he tells me again.
“And I love you too, Mason,” I echo back to him, really meaning it because I do.
“I just… I guess I just don’t want you to get tired of me or think this is a mistake somewhere down the line,” I admit.
He’s the only good thing to ever happen to me, and although I know he feels the same about me, I can’t stand the thought of losing him, not even after our short time together.
“I wanted you, Jules, I admit that. I went through all that auction business and panicking at the thought you might not want me… being ahem… slightly older…” he says, flushing a little.
“But now I need you,” I feel my heart melting, my body melting into his as I lean forward, enchanted by him when he talks to me like that.
“I need you for a million reasons. The biggest one is because I love you,” he reminds me yet again, kissing me tenderly.
“And what are the other reasons?” I ask, glancing sideways, hoping they’re not doing laundry and dishes, making dinner, and being some kind of wallflower or housefrau.
“Barefoot and pregnant, fine,” I declare. “But I don’t want to miss seeing you, being with you.”
“You won’t,” he says, utterly certain of himself.
“I need a business partner, like I said in the meeting today, one who’s word carries as much weight a mine, although… if you get stuck, I’d appreciate a consult,” he adds, intuiting my current lack of anything corporate.
I laugh softly, wondering if…
“I also want you to head up the charity kitchen details, the whole real estate project, to be honest. If it wasn’t for you, all those people would be out of a home, yourself included. Who better to manage it than a local, someone who knows her neighborhood?”
I feel my stomach turn. “That’s a lot of responsibility,” I hear myself saying. Wincing and already telling myself I can’t. I shouldn’t.
“It is,” Mason agrees, “but if we’re putting your name on it, you’ll know how to handle it, I’m sure of that!” he exclaims, fidgeting a hand in his jacket pocket.
He looks nervous like he’s thinking ahead of what his mouth is saying.
“My name?” I ask, totally confused now.
“That’s right. Actually, I’m thinking about whether to do it on everything, alphabetically or should we do it by experience?”
I feel my jaw dropping, my mind going completely blank.
“I mean, should it be Thorne-McPherson or McPherson-Thorne?”
I feel my head shaking like I’ve missed something.
“Should what be?” I ask, “The soup kitchen charity?” sounding blonder than I mean to.
Mason laughs loudly, clapping his hands in both pockets, looking panicked for a second, then relieved when he
