Page 105 of Sure Shot
“Sure,” I say easily. “With you? Anything. That’s your epiphany?”
“Yes.” She rolls out from under me and sits up. “And not as a backup plan. At first I really wanted my own baby. Because my childhood was so…” She frowns.
“Harrowing?” I supply. “Horrific? You don’t tell me much, Bess. But I know you went through a lot.”
She flinches. “I hate talking about it.”
“You can if you ever want to.” I kiss her palm. “I’ll always listen.”
She weaves her fingers through mine. “See, I thought I needed to have my own baby as a way of fixing my childhood. As if all the things I did for my own child would make my parents’ neglect less real.Godthis sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”
“No, honey.” I pull her into a hug. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all. Besides, I don’t think anyone can give an articulate answer to why they want kids. They just do. You don’t even need a reason.”
“Here’s the thing,” she says to my bare chest. “Being an unwanted child shaped my whole life. But now I have the chance to turn some small person into awantedchild. It would mean a lot to me to adopt. I think I could be a great mother to someone who had a rough start.”
“I think that’s beautiful.” I rock her gently, hoping she never wants me to let go. “I don’t know anything about how adoption works. I think it takes a really long time, honestly. But if you’re game, then I’m game. I’d be honored to take that journey with you.”
Bess presses her fingertips against the corners of her wet eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’m here for that.” I kiss the top of her head. “Tell me what you’ve learned. Let’s see that crazy notebook of yours. We’ll eat room service and google the fuck out of adoption.”
Bess’s smile is a little watery. “It’s a plan.”
There’s a knock at the door. I set Bess on her feet beside the bed. Then I get up to answer it, looking a little ridiculous in my trousers and nothing else.
A bellman rolls Bess’s suitcase in, and he’s followed by a room service delivery person. The scent of Tex-Mex makes me—if possible—even a little happier than I was before. “Where do I sign?” I take the bill from the server and add a generous tip.
“I’m so happy to see my suitcase,” Bess says after they leave. “Can I change into something more comfortable?”
“Of course. Especially if that’s a euphemism.” I turn around and finish removing my suit, hanging up the trousers and the jacket so I can wear them again before our next game.
When I turn around, I almost swallow my tongue. Bess is standing there in a flame-colored lace bra, and matching lace panties. “Holy fuck. Are you trying to kill me?”
“If I am, then it’s a murder-suicide,” she says. “Lace itches. Who knew?”
“Come here,” I growl. “I need a closer inspection.”
She gives me an uncharacteristically shy smile. “You don’t think I look ridiculous? Like I borrowed a lingerie model’s underwear?”
“Never,” I assure her. “Bess, take it from an underwear model—you’ve got thegoods.”
“You charmer.” She laughs and comes closer to me.
“If those need to be taken off, I want to be the one doing the taking.”
“Do you, now?” She kisses my neck.
“You’d better believe it.” I run my hands down her smooth skin, and then show her just how it’s done.
Thirty-Four
I Did Not Get Out of Bed
Bess
When I wakeup the next morning, I’m face down on the silky hotel sheets, my naked limbs tangled in the covers. I feel completely at peace, even before I’m conscious enough to remember why.
Oh, right. Tank is beside me. His presence comforts me on a deep level. When I’d finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning, it was with the bedrock certainty that we were on the same page about the future.
