Now, Please(48)

I slid my cheek against his. “I don’t know—two or three, depending on how early I start.”

His fingers traced the skin on my back. “I never thought I’d have kids. Not since Denise. I’ve wanted them, though.”

“It’s odd for a guy to go that baby crazy,” I mused aloud. Then, realizing how that sounded, I pulled back so I could look down into his deep brown eyes. “Not saying that’s a bad thing—I just didn’t think teenage boys, all hopped up on hormones, would be that excited about being tied down.”

Hunter’s big shoulders shrugged under my palms. “I wasn’t at first, but I grew up as an only child. My father was a hound. My mother couldn’t stand the sight of him after a while. I thought a family I created with a woman I loved, and who I thought loved me, would make me feel normal.” He pulled me closer again. “I was seventeen, Olivia. My head wasn’t on straight.”

“But you’ve never stopped wanting it.”

“I’ve never stopped wanting normal, no. But the more I’ve chased it, the further away it seems to get. Look at me. For years now I’ve enforced an employee contract that granted morally corrupt privileges. I should’ve been sued many times over. Instead, it’s a highly sought after position. I have a fiancée I don’t like, but who I agreed to so my father would walk away from my life. She tied together two businesses that had nothing to do with me. My father is still very much in my life, like it or not, and the businesses no longer have a relationship. Yet still I’m tied. I’m a workaholic because I have nothing else in my life.

“I’m so far removed from normal I don’t even know the way back. Except through you. You are everything I’ve always wanted to be, including poor after college and looking for a job. And within you is the potential for me to achieve my dreams. You, as a person, by yourself, are perfect. You are a rare and priceless gem that I would chase to the ends of the world just to be near. Just to hope some of your effulgence rubbed off on me. I am incredibly lucky you chose me.”

I kissed Hunter, clinging to him. “You are living in opposite land.” I laughed through my emotion. “And incredibly sweet.”

“I’m not sweet, I’m truthful. It gets me in trouble often.”

“Not with me.”

“Mr. Carlisle?” we heard from the back door.

“Yes, Mrs. Foster,” Hunter called.

“Dinner is fifteen minutes out, and the dining room is set for you. Miss Englewood is…elsewhere. You should be undisturbed.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster, we’ll be in shortly.”

“I meant to ask you,” I said to Hunter as we got out of the hot tub, “when do you find time to work out?”

“Out of everything, that is your burning question?” Hunter held out my robe. “I use the company gym, mostly, and if I don’t get a chance, I use the one here. It’s next to the garage.”

“Ah.”

He steered me inside and up to his room. Instead of letting me change into my clothes from the day, though, he handed me a pair of men’s pajama bottoms and one of his T-shirts. He donned his own pair before wrapping me in his arms for a moment before we headed downstairs. “I’ll get you some pajamas to wear.”

“I have some at my house.”

“Your bed is too small. It’s made for elves.”

“In Lord of the Rings, Elves are tall, I think. And I meant I can bring them here. I’m not sure if you realize this, but you don’t have to buy an entire wardrobe for each residence. I thought I’d point that out to you. You know, as the voice of normal.”

He kissed me on the forehead before leading me downstairs and to the dining room. The long table was set up with two places facing each other at one end. Lit candles flickered, and the light from the crystal chandelier above put off a dim glow.

I sat down to a place set with pricy china dinnerware and real silver utensils. While wearing Hunter’s pajamas.

“No, you don’t do normal all that well.” I laughed as Mrs. Foster entered with a serving tray loaded with savory pot roast glistening in delicious-looking gravy. Potatoes and peas were already on the table in their own serving bowls, with a salad off to the side.

“She usually just makes me a plate,” Hunter said as Mrs. Foster situated the beef.

“You have a pretty guest, Mr. Carlisle. I couldn’t have you eating like a squatter, now could I? What would she think of me!” Mrs. Foster pursed her lips as she turned to me from her position at the head of the table. The chair had been removed to the corner, and serving spoons and forks were lined up for her use. “Now, young lady, would you like some salad?”