Meow.
“I hate him,” she whispers, using the sheet to blot under her eyes. “He just ruined a perfect moment.”
Meow.
“Babe.” I chuckle then start to laugh hard when Melbourne meows loudly again and paws against the door. “I’m going to go let him in.”
“Fine.” She sighs, flopping to her back in defeat.
I lean over her, placing my face close to hers, and lower my voice. “If you end up pregnant, baby, we’ll figure it out together, all right?”
“Yeah.” She touches my cheek then leans up to press her lips to mine, groaning a second later when Melbourne makes his presence known with another loud meow.
With a smile, I get up, and as soon as I open the door, he comes in and circles my legs as he begins to purr. “I really do not know why he likes you so much. It’s not like it was you who rescued him from the pound, buys him the best food money can buy, or gives him a warm place to sleep.”
“Babe, you’re sounding a little jealous.” I smile, going back to the bed and scooping her up.
“I’m not jealous that my cat likes you. I’m annoyed that he likes you and the boys more than he likes me.”
“Dudes gotta stick together.”
“Whatever,” she mutters then looks around. “What are we doing?”
“Taking a shower.”
“I showered earlier.”
“Yeah, but I want to eat you, so you’re going to take another one.”
“Oh… well then, I guess I can shower again.”
“I figured you’d see things my way.” I smirk then flip on the shower.
An hour later, I eat her until she comes, and after I finish inside her, I fall asleep with her in my arms, wondering how soon is too soon for her to move in with me, so I can have this with her every night.
Twelve
December
I HOLD BACK a giggle, watching Max place a banana between two oranges in the produce section, and then snort when Mitchell rolls his eyes at his little brother and dismantles his handy work.
“What’s funny?” Gareth asks, placing his hand on my lower back, and I glance up at him.
“The boys.”
“Do I even want to know?” He looks toward where they are now picking up cantaloupes.
“They’re just being boys,” I reply, and he shakes his head, used to me finding humor in most everything they do. “Anyway…” I grab a bag of salad and toss it in the shopping cart. “I talked to my mom when I got off work today.”
“Is she good?”
“Yeah, she just wanted me to extend an invitation to you and the boys to her and Dad’s annual Memorial Day barbeque,” I say quietly, pulling my eyes off Mitchell and Max, who are now ahead of us. “I told her I wasn’t sure you’d be cool with that but promised I’d still ask.”
“I don’t see why we can’t make that work. The boys and I normally just do something at home. I’m sure they won’t mind having dinner at your parents’.”
“Okay, but my whole family will be there, so it won’t just be my parents. Do you think that will be too much for them?”
“Babe, they aren’t the kinda kids who mind being around people. They’ll be fine,” he assures me with a soft look.
“They haven’t even met my parents yet,” I remind him.
“So let’s set something up. Memorial Day isn’t for another week. Ask your mom and dad if they want to come to my place for dinner this Saturday, and they can meet the boys then.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, and he stops the cart and turns fully toward me.
“Why do you keep asking if I’m sure, when I’m the one giving you a solution to a problem you’re having an issue with?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a breath. I really don’t know. I think I’m still in shock. I can’t believe he loves me and how good things are between us. Honestly, I keep waiting for some kind of drama to happen, because everything seems too good to be true. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t told him that I love him. I don’t want to jinx myself or us.
“Babe, relax. The boys will be all right whether they meet your parents now or then, but if it’ll make you feel better, ask your parents to come over for dinner.”
“I’ll ask them over for dinner,” I decide.
He laughs shaking his head. “Now that that’s done what are we gonna do for dinner tonight?”
“I thought Max wanted meatloaf.” I frown, pretty sure that’s the reason we came to the store after we picked up Mitchell from practice.
“Mitchell doesn’t want meatloaf.”
“Yeah, but Mitchell got to pick dinner last night, so it’s only fair that Max gets to pick tonight,” I tell him, thinking that we sound like a married couple discussing their children and not a couple who have only been dating for a couple months.