My face goes still. “No, I didn’t marry her because I got her fucking pregnant.”
Although come to think of it, I sure wouldn’t mind getting Kylie pregnant. We’ve talked about it a little bit, but we haven’t made any definite plans. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and the more I do, the more I like the idea—and that’s the weirdest thing, because it wasn’t long ago that pregnant was the most terrifying word imaginable. But Kylie pregnant with my baby? I like the sound of that. A lot.
Hope leans away and crosses her legs. “Hey, sorry. I just figured she must have roped you in somehow.”
“No, she didn’t have to rope me in.”
“Well, who’s the lucky girl?” Hope asks. “Anyone I know?”
And I’m smiling again. “You remember my best friend, Kylie?”
“Yes…” Hope says, her voice hesitant.
“Kylie’s my wife.” God, I love saying that. It’s my favorite fucking sentence.
Hope’s mouth drops again. “You have got to be kidding me.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “I knew it. The whole time we were dating, I knew she was trying to get her claws into you.”
“That’s not what was going on.” I turn back to the bar and take a sip of my drink. “But you can think whatever you want.”
She gets down from the stool. “Well, congratulations to both of you. And good luck to her.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and walks away.
Good luck to her?That was a bitchy thing to say, but I just shrug and go back to my drink. It doesn’t matter what Hope thinks. All that matters is that I married the best fucking woman in the world, and I get to love the shit out of her forever.
Except when she’s out of town. Which sucks.
I finish my whiskey and decide to head home. I wonder what my girls are doing tonight. They drove out to a resort in the mountains, and Kylie said there’s going to be a lot of spa treatments and booze. I’m glad they didn’t go more than a few hours away. Yeah, I’m acting a little crazy about Ky being out of town, but I like that if I had to jump in the car to get to her, I could.
I love my girl. So sue me.
My phone buzzes with Kylie’s text right as I walk in the door of our condo. Miss you, baby.
I toss my coat on a chair and sink down onto the couch. Miss you too. Call me? I want to hear your voice.
My phone rings right away. “Hi, baby girl.”
“Hi,” she says. “How was your day?”
“Not bad,” I say. “You?”
“It’s been good,” she says. “So relaxing, and the restaurant here is amazing.”
“Awesome, I’m glad you’re having a good time. What are you up to now?”
“Nothing much,” she says. “Selene went back to her room for a while, so I’m just lying here.”
I perk up at that. “Lying where?”
“On the bed.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I was there,” I say.
“Me, too,” she says. “What would you do if you were here?”
“What are you wearing?” I lie down and get comfortable. “I need a visual.”