Crave: New Adult Sport Romance (Fire and Ice) by Vaughn Violet

Author:Vaughn, Violet [Vaughn, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sugarloaf Publishing
Published: 2014-05-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

Sunlight coaxes me awake. I open my eyes to it shining into the room much like the moon had. I listen to Blaine’s quiet snore. I ache for him. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m not giving up. It hurts to think he thought I would. I stroke his hair, and he opens his eyes. At first his eyes are full of joy, but pain encroaches. I want to take it away. My body slides under the warm covers and cuddle up to him. I stroke my finger against his morning stubble. “Hey. Do you really want to have babies with me?”

“Yes, I do.” He looks relieved.

“Can we have one boy and one girl?”

He smiles. “Yes.”

“And can they have your beautiful blue eyes?”

“As much as I want to say yes to anything you want, no. One has to have your eyes. And your hair.” He twirls a strand of it. “I want a little girl with adorable curls just like yours.”

There’s so much love in his eyes my heart sings. I roll over on my back and hold his hand up and trace the lines in his palm with my finger. “Can we decorate our house with tons of tacky Christmas decorations during the holidays?”

“Yes.” He chuckles.

“Good, because I want a huge, blow-up Santa. And I want you out there on Thanksgiving weekend in your awful dad sweater putting it up. Okay?”

“Deal.” He leans up on his elbow and looks down at me. “Casey, God gave you to me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” His eyes glisten and he whispers. “I love you.” His lips touch mine.

My body shivers as I slide out of bed. I grab his T-shirt and hold it up to my nose to inhale. Another shiver runs down my spine. His eyes dance, watching me. I slip it on over my head and his essence surrounds me. “Don’t move. Well, you can go pee, but you better be in this bed when I get back.” I give him a stern look with a twinkle in my eye.

“Got it.”

I put on the coffee and open the fridge. In the bottom drawer are ripe, red strawberries and whipped cream I’d saved for breakfast. On a tray I put the berries, cream, leftover cheese, French bread, and coffee. The coffee wafts to my nose as I carry it all to the bedroom.

I climb on the bed and set it down between us. I want everything to be okay again. As much as I’m tempted to feed him and lick whipped cream off his lips, I know this isn’t the time. Instead we tell stories from our childhood.

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