Page 123 of The Rest is History
‘One.’ He traces featherlight circles on my neck. My chest. ‘You in this house with me. Just—a part of it, you know? Living here with me. Being here when I wake up. Doing nothing on Sundays.’
‘Like we used to be?’
‘Exactly. But… permanent. A fixture.’
‘Like a lamp?’
‘A very sexy lamp that requires constant feeding. And orgasms.’
I laugh. ‘And two?’
‘Two. Fucking you like I just did. Really letting you have it. I know I was rough just then, but God, that was weeks of tension. You blew my mind.’
‘I like these fantasies,’ I tell him. ‘And I loved how it was just then. You blew my mind too.’
‘Two’s probably more of an umbrella for every single filthy thing I’ve ever done to you and want to do to you.’
His eyes grow so dark. I smile seductively at him. ‘I’m here to serve.’
He shifts. ‘Say things like that and I won’t be getting out of bed to feed you for quite some time.’
‘Fine by me.’ I stroke his upper arm. ‘And three?’
He swallows. ‘The fantasy that fucks me up the most is you being pregnant.’
My breath catches. ‘Oh, my darling.’
‘You’re so beautiful with my child inside of you. Obviously, it’s the most dangerous fantasy I have because it can never happen.’
I aim for levity. ‘No cankles or pregnancy acne in your fantasies?’
He gives me a sad smile. ‘Nope. You’re radiant.’
‘Charlie.’ I choose my words carefully. ‘That could still happen, you know. Via sperm donor. But even if we were to go down other routes, you know you’d still be the most amazing dad? Providing sperm doesn’t a father make. Look at your brother with Bertie. Those two have the sweetest relationship.’
‘I know you’re right.’ He sighs. ‘That’s what Jack and Emmy said when they came over to talk some sense into me. But I’m afraid the weight of my inadequacies was too great for me to feel like I could ask you to consider me.’
I let my hands roam over his chest. ‘There isnothinginadequate about you, Charlie Vaughan. Nothing. You’re more than I could ever have dreamed of.’
He closes his eyes and touches his nose to mine. ‘On a happier note, what are your plans for the summer?’
‘Well, theywereto weep into my espresso all summer alongside a bit of childcare, but I suppose I’ll have to change them now.’ I smile at him. ‘Any ideas?’
‘I think we can do better than weeping into your espresso.’ He pretends to think, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘How about smiling that beautiful smile of yours into an authentic espresso on the Amalfi coast?’
My jaw drops so quickly that he laughs.
‘Italy? Seriously?’
‘Why not? You and me, some good books, maybe a backgammon set. We find ourselves some flights to Naples andtake a little road trip. Eat our body weight in carbs and sustain ourselves with excellent coffee. Clothing optional. You game?’
I wrap my arms around his neck in a leisurely hug, my summer lying before me in Technicolor. ‘I’m very, very game.’
Epilogue
THREE YEARS LATER
The key turns in the door.
