Page 108 of The Golden Goalie

“Yours,” he says without skipping a beat.

I stop. “What?”

“I got it for you to have before the baby comes. Think of it as a wedding gift.”

I turn so I can look up at him. “You bought me a car?”

“Yeah, Baby. I need you to drive something reliable, especially with the baby coming.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“I didn’t get you anything like a car,” I admit.

He smiles. “I don’t need you to. I just want you.”

We head inside, and I can’t help but smile as we walk into our home. It's so much the same and yet so different. I've spent so much time here over the last several weeks; it seems so natural to take this next step. Rico puts his hand on my lower back. “Do you need anything to eat or drink before we go to bed?”

“No, I’m good. How about you?”

“I’m good too.”

We make our way to his room and step inside. I take in the room. “You have a fireplace?”

“Wehave a fireplace,” he corrects and then gives me a funny look. “You never noticed it?”

“I don’t come in here all that often. I can’t believe there’s a fireplace.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He drops the bag he carried for me in the corner.

“Do you want to take a shower before bed?” he asks.

“I do. I remember how nice your shower is.”

“I’ll get it going for you.” I dig through my bag and find underwear but come up missing for pajamas. When I’ve taken nearly everything out, I huff in frustration. “I can’t find my pajamas anywhere.”

“Here.” He opens a drawer and pulls out a shirt and hands it to me. “That should work.”

“Thanks, Rico.”

“Of course, Love.”

Somehow, I manage to get out of my dress and into the shower. It’s as nice as I remember from before. When I’ve stayed in long enough to start shriveling up, I finally climb out and dry off. I slip on Rico’s t-shirt and throw my hair up into a towel. After brushing my teeth, I head out of the bathroom. “Where is this shirt from? It’s so soft.”

Rico’s eyes scan over me, lingering on my legs. “You look good in just my shirt.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

He shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it. “I don’t remember. I’m going to take a shower next.” He starts to walk past me, but I stop him with a hand on his arm.

“Oh, wait. I think I used all the hot water. I’m sorry; that was terrible of me.”

“No worries. I'm taking a cool shower anyway.”

“A cool shower? Who does that?”

“I do, Gorgeous. Feel free to get settled. I’ll try to be quiet when I get out in case you’re already asleep,” he says.

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