Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(167)
Taking a deep breath, I pulled my hand from his and sat up, holding the sheet to my chest. “We need to talk about birth control.”
He grinned, scratching his neck. “Yeah. I guess neither of us were really thinking about it last night.”
I gaped at him. “That’s it?”
“What?”
“You’re not more upset? What if I’m pregnant?”
Dan seemed surprised by my outburst. “You don’t want kids?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“We haven’t talked about it. What if you don’t want kids?”
“I do want kids.”
“But what if you didn’t? And I did. And I got pregnant, and then you were unhappy, and—”
“Hey. Slow down. Why are you twisting yourself up about this? If you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to carry the child for nine months.”
His eyes moved between mine, narrowed. “So you don’t want kids?”
I groaned, shaking my head. “I do want kids, just not right now.”
“Okay.” He nodded, like the matter was settled. “Sounds good. Kids later.”
“But that’s not my point. I—we—acted irresponsibly and recklessly. We need a birth control plan.”
“Okay.” He nodded some more. “Sounds good. How do you feel about condoms? You like condoms?”
“The birth control plan isn’t the point either.”
He exhaled a huge breath. “Then what is the point?”
I glared at him. “The recklessness! The recklessness is the point. We can’t be reckless like that.”
“About birth control?” He squinted his eyes again, like he was having trouble following.
“About anything.”
Dan stared at me for a few seconds, and then his eyes lost focus as they moved around the room. “Uh . . . okay. But,”—he sat up, pushing his back against the pillows behind him—“sometimes people are thoughtless, and they make mistakes. I mean, yeah, ideally, let’s do our best to be responsible. However, no one is perfect. That’s why we have the concept of consequences and forgiveness. Forgiveness doesn’t mean there’s no consequences, it just means we accept and deal with the consequences, and then we move forward.”
My heart was racing and I didn’t know why, but before I could catch the words, I blurted, “I think I’m addicted to you.”
He blinked at me, unhurried and still a little sleepy, a slow smile claiming his lips. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual.”
I moved to him, bringing the sheet with me, and climbed on his lap. His hands settled on my hips, one above the sheet, the other below it.
“Dan.” I needed to make my point. “I’m worried that, when we’re together, when we’re . . .”
“Making l-o-o-o-ve,” he provided, using that deep voice of his, lifting a sly eyebrow. The backs of his fingers beneath the sheet brushed against my bare skin, moving higher to fondle my breast.
I clutched the blanket tighter, trying to ignore the sensations ignited by his touch, but not wanting to stop him either. “Yes. When we’re making love, I’m completely uninhibited.”
He smiled, looking pleased. But when I didn’t continue, he frowned. “Is that a problem? I mean, isn’t that the point?”
Closing my eyes, my forehead came to his shoulder and I groaned. “I guess it is. But, in my experience, those kinds of blissful highs don’t come without a devastating low. I worry about, what happens when we fight? I’ll still want you. Will I bend on or be thoughtless about something important to me because I crave being with you? Or I’m worried about you? You see what I mean?” I shook my head, not even certain of my own point. “I guess, what happens if the recklessness I feel when I’m with you becomes carelessness in other parts of my life?”
I felt the beat of his pulse next to my cheek, the stubble of his jaw along my neck, the heat and strength of his body against me. I inhaled him, the moment and the feeling, loving our closeness entirely too much.
At length, he guided me back so he could look at me. “That’s probably going to happen.”
Before I could speak, he continued, “It’s already happened to me. When Seamus came into my ma’s house that night, when we came back from the day at Eugene’s office, I was careless when I turned my back on him, even though I’d taken his weapons. But I was worried about you, and so I was thinking about you. Not him.”
A pragmatic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to bend, and so am I. We’re going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other. Being together means our priorities are going to change. That’s what happens when you make space for another person. Comfort zones will be stretched.”