Page 38 of Good as Gold
“Just a little one,” he says kindly, stroking my hair. “You’ll be all right. You mind if I stay here with you? It’s late.”
“I don’t mind.” I take another sip of tea. “There’s no bed in the second bedroom, though, so we’ll have to share again. Not sure this couch is long enough for you.”
He stands up and hauls me to my feet. “Let’s find your pajamas.”
“I threw them away. What’s the point of being single if you can’t sleep naked?”
Matteo swallows roughly. “Good point. I’ll stay on the couch.”
“Oh.” Whoops. “I’ll wear a big T-shirt. And then I can snuggle you. Nobody ever snuggles me anymore. It’s been years since anyone snuggled me.”
Matteo doesn’t say anything about that. He walks me to my bedroom and finds me a big tee, and then leaves me alone in the bathroom so I can put it on.
When I emerge, the apartment is dark. He’s saved me the trouble of turning all the lights out. I make it to the bed, where I climb under the covers and close my eyes.
Then I open them again. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” he asks as he enters the room.
“I’ve got the spins.”
“Need a bucket?”
I shake my head. “I’m not drunk enough to barf. I’m only drunk enough to act like a doofus and say stupid things.”
Chuckling, he kicks off his jeans, and even in low light, I can see his abs as he gets into bed. “Like what stupid things?” he asks.
“You ripple,” I complain. “It makes me thirsty.”
“Iwhat?Do you need a glass of water?”
“No, not likethat.” I sigh. Then I roll toward him. “Why didn’t we ever hook up? When we were young and dumb. Why did I pick Rory?”
On the other side of the bed, he goes absolutely still. “That’s… I don’t know, Leila. That was a long time ago.”
It’s not a very satisfying answer, and the tequila in my bloodstream just can’t let it go. “Everything might have turned out different, if it was you,” I whisper. “Everything! I wouldn’t have married a man who resents me.” Then I take a sharp breath. “Wait, that’s selfish of me. You didn’t want to be trapped here in Vermont. With me.”
He sighs. “Let’s not hold a competition for who made the stupidest choices, yeah? I’d be right beside you on the podium.”
“Please. That’s my trophy for sure,” I grumble as the room does another loop. “I’m the dumb one. I married the wrong guy. And now I’m thirty-five, and I have to have babies with a test tube because there aren’t any single men left who want to see me naked.”
Matteo groans. “It’s late, honey. Table this discussion? Tomorrow is another day. Another chance for me to be a better man. And for you to start over.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “It’s just that starting over is so scary. I really want a child. But I’m running out of time.” I let out a dreamy sigh, picturing a baby in my arms.
I’ve done this often—imagining the warm, heavy bundle against my chest. The little chubby feet and starfish hands. Tonight, the baby of my daydreams has deep brown eyes. Just like…
“Ooh! You know what would beamazing?”
“Hmm?” he asks sleepily.
“You should be the father,” I blurt. And as soon as the words are out, I realize howperfectthis idea is.Oh, wow. I take a hot breath just imagining it. “You would make the most beautiful babies. They’d be so smart and so kind.”
Matteo doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, I fear that he’s fallen asleep. But when I roll to face him, I find him staring at me, wide-eyed in the dark.
“What?” I demand. “It’s a great idea. You know, if you’re into it. You like sex, right?” And then I realize my mistake. “Or—wait—maybe you don’t want sex withme. We could use a turkey baster. Problem solved.”
Matteo opens his mouth. Then he closes it again. “Leila,” he says finally.
