Page 26 of Bearly Taken

From there, we went to the bookstore.

I loved watching Wren there. She had dreamed of opening that place as long as I’d known her—and I was damn proud that she’d made it happen, despite the roadblock I’d unintentionally been for her.

And Parker?

The little guy was fucking perfect. I could watch him run around all day—and did—without getting tired of it.

I wanted more kids, too. More little squirts to run around with, talk to, and tease.

The only thing as good as hanging out with him was running the bookstore on and off so Wren could have some time with him. The look in her eyes when I did made me feel like I was finally doing something right with her.

As much as it killed me to leave the distance between us, I forced myself to give her space after the night she let me put my mouth on her.

She had to be the one calling the shots.

I’d lost that right when I walked away, and had to give her time to decide she wanted me in all the same ways I wanted her.

How did I want her?

Wearing my ring.

Married to me, the same way she was mated to me.

To be mine in every way.

She alreadywasmine, of course. I’d mated her. There was no going back from that.

I wanted her, but I had to leave it in her hands.

So, I forced myself to leave the space between us that had existed since I came back into town.

A week went by without her instigating anything else. I had to bite my cheek and fight my instincts to bring it up daily, but I’d do the same for a year if she wanted me to.

She was in charge.

Another week went by. My cock hurt like hell, but I ignored it.

If Wren wanted me to ache for her, I’d ache. I owed her far more than that. I owed her everything.

At the end of the third week, I sat in the bathroom doorway with my back to her, like always. As much as I wanted to look back at her gorgeous, bare body, I cared far more about her comfort than my desire. I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, even if sex was never on the table again.

“You’re really good with Parker,” she said. Our conversations were never dull, but we didn’t typically discuss anything about us or our family unless it related to schedules. I knew she would bring it up when she was ready to talk about it.

And apparently, the day had come.

My chest burned with her compliment. “He makes it easy.”

She laughed softly. “Not always. He’s a pain a lot of the time, like any other toddler. A lovable pain, though.”

“An adorable one,” I agreed.

She was quiet for a minute before she finally asked, “Have you ever thought about having more kids? I know Parker wasn’t planned, but since you’ve been here...” A beat of silence passed. Before I could respond, she blurted, “I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry. Never mind. Just?—“

“I’ve thought about having more kids every day for the past few weeks,” I admitted.

It was her turn to fall silent.

“The transition was difficult, but I loved every minute of it. Since I’ve settled in, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And you. Particularly younaked—though I probably shouldn’t say that.”

---