Waking Up Married(23)

“Mmm-hmm. And before schooling, extreme-adventure sports. Funny     topic to spring up out of the blue. And so coincidental you would be of the same     mind regarding risks of that nature being off the table once a child enters the     picture.”

“I told you, we have a tremendous amount in common.”

“Yeah, and you’ve worked it all into this ‘casual’ conversation     over the last couple hours—”

“Come on, now, sweetheart, I’ve worked a lot of things into     this conversation.”

“—conveniently omitting anything we disagreed on.”

Connor’s mouth kicked up another degree, his eyes heating in     the way she’d found so startling at first, but was now beginning to look for.     “Have I mentioned how sexy those smarts of yours are?”

An unbidden belly flip had her glancing away before Connor     could see how his words affected her. “I bust you for trying to play me, and     this is your response?”

“Yes.” The crook of his finger found her chin, and he pulled     her back to his gaze. “But that doesn’t make what we’ve talked about any less     true. I’m a motivated guy, set on making sure I don’t let something important     slip through my fingers. I want you to know what I know.”

She let out an even breath, hating the way everything Connor     said made sense. Clicked, as if it was locking into some waiting place within     her.

It was crazy to think, even for a second, about buying into     this.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t take another     risk. And this...this was a risk unlike any she’d faced before. But staring into     Connor’s deep brown eyes, all she could think was, what if this time the reward     was worth it?

A knock sounded from the front door, and Connor broke the eye     contact to check his watch and then push up from the couch. “Got to be your     dress.”

A moment later a gleaming brass cart was parked in the entry     and Connor was verifying the appointment for a stylist to do Megan’s hair and     makeup. She’d tried to stop him, but he’d dismissed her protests, calling it a     perk of being Mrs. Reed...said she should get used to it. Or at the very least     use it while she had it.

Fair enough. She’d given in. And now she had to admit she was     looking forward to letting someone else work on her hair. In all honesty, her     plate felt a little full already with the business of this marriage on it. And     the herculean task of making her hair look good just wasn’t something she had     room for.

The door shut, and Connor, all tapered cut and balanced     perfection, was closing in again. The skin along her shoulders began to tingle     in reckless anticipation of that back-to-hard-chest-and-stomach stance he seemed     to favor. And then he was there, running a thumb down the column of her neck.     “Would you feel better if I shared a few points of dissent?”

Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw his eyes were     serious. And so close.

“Yes, I would.”

Looking back at the dress before she turned around completely     and did something monumentally stupid—which, considering her marital status, was     really saying a lot—she pulled open the thin, protective plastic. Stroked her     fingers over the silver, above-the-knee sheath.

Connor cleared his throat. “Camp.”

She shot another look back. “What?”

“I don’t like the idea of sending the kids away for extended     periods of time.”

“But camp’s a treat. Once they’re old enough, of course. They     have so many incredible programs out there. Nature camps. Space camps—”

“Yeah, arts, football, gymnastics, and everything else a little     boy or girl could be interested in.” Shoving a hand through the dark silk of his     hair, he let out a sigh. “I still don’t like the idea, but I’ve given on the     point already.”

Her brows lifted along with the corners of her mouth as she     turned to face him completely. “Wow. Any other small victories I should know     about?”