It Started With a Kiss (Insta-Spark) - Page 88

“So we can tell my family tomorrow.” I smirked. “No doubt, they’ll drag you off and commence wedding plans.”

“Probably. With their help, it will be easy. I don’t want anything over the top and fancy.”

“What about me? What do you want me to do?”

Avery pressed her lips to my ear, making me shiver. “Honeymoon,” she murmured, a husky note to her voice.

I dropped my face to her neck. “Hmmm. I can handle that.”

“You have to tell me what to pack.”

“Your toothbrush.” I swirled my tongue on her silky skin.

“Nothing else?”

“No.” I moved my mouth to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. “You, me, and a sunny, private beach. No clothes needed.”

“Daniel—”

“Okay, a couple of dresses. Little ones. And a few pairs of shorts for me in case we run out of milk.” She giggled as I rocked, sending us tumbling to the blanket, then I hovered over her. “Otherwise, you’re naked. I’m in charge of this honeymoon thing, so what I say goes. Got it?”

She gazed at me tenderly, her eyes warm and bright. They were filled with love—love that was mine and mine alone. She would belong to me for the rest of my life. And beyond. Her arms wound around my neck, pulling me down to her mouth. “Got it.”

I was going to like this marriage thing.

Eighteen months later

I entered the house, and my heart dropped in my chest at the silence. I knew what time of the month it was. I knew how hopeful Avery tried to be. She remained doggedly cheerful every month, and then when we failed to conceive again, her pain was tangible. The sobs she thought I didn’t hear when she shut the door leading to the bathroom tore my heart out. More than once, I had found her weeping into a towel, trying to hide her anguish, and I would gather her up into my arms and hold her until the storm passed. Every month it got harder, though—on each of us.

My feet dragged as I walked down the hall. I pushed open the door, expecting to see a small ball of misery in the center of our bed. Instead, Avery was sitting against the headboard, reading a thick file, Dex curled up by her feet. She looked up startled, as I walked in.

“Oh! Daniel, I lost track of time. I don’t even have dinner going.”

I sat down beside her, relieved, stroking Dex’s head. He was a constant companion to her most days. She still looked sad but not as devastated as usual.

“How about some noodles and Kung Pao?” I offered. “I’ll go pick it up?”

She nodded, but that was her only response.

“Are you, um, okay?”

She was resigned. “I’m not pregnant.”

I leaned forward, nuzzling her cheek, trying to offer what comfort I could. “I’m sorry, Sprite.”

“I made a decision.”

I rubbed my hands up and down her thighs in comforting strokes. “Tell me.”

“I went and saw the doctor today. She gave me a referral to the fertility specialist.”

“Okay, this is good.” We had talked about the possibility of taking that course of action. We’d been tested and tried other solutions. That was the next logical step.

“I see him in two days.” She held up the file. “She gave me a bunch of stuff to read.”

“Okay. I’ll read it when you’re done.”

“Can you come with me?” She sounded unsure.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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