The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(18)

With a sexy smile she’d never managed to resist, he pinned her beneath him. “I liked that look in your eyes,” he murmured. “What are you thinking about?”

“Wishing that we could live our life right here in bed, since it’s where we get along the best.”

She smiled to soften the words, but he didn’t smile back. In fact, he rolled off her onto his back with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not still mad at you,” she said.

“Maybe I’m still mad at you.”

She blinked and came up on an elbow. “What? Why? You’re the one who almost screwed everything up.”

“And you never do?”

“Hey, I’m a delight. Ask anyone.”

He snorted and sat up too, shoving his fingers through his hair. “My mom said you haven’t called her back. She’s left three messages for you.”

“She wants to talk about the wedding, Dillon. Specifically the flowers, the food, and the fact that I didn’t ask your cousin to be a bridesmaid. The cousin who hates me almost as much as your mom does.”

“Neither of them hates you.”

“Your mom thinks this is her wedding and wants to do what she wants, not what I want.”

He sighed. “Maybe you could just give in on something? Anything?”

She gaped at him. “She wants roses at the ceremony, which I’m allergic to. She also wants an open bar—something we can’t afford because we both decided on an expensive honeymoon to Bali instead. And your cousin is not going to be in the wedding. Hello, she tried to set you up with her best friend.”

“That was before she knew I was serious about you.”

“It was last month!” Caitlin took a deep breath. The two of them had been bickering so much lately, and here they were, doing it again before they’d even brushed their teeth. She exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, but your mom finds fault with everything I do, and then she tells you about it and it puts a strain on us. She hasn’t liked me from day one, when she learned I didn’t finish college.”

“Okay, so maybe she thought you were looking for your M.R.S. degree at first,” he admitted.

“My what?”

He grimaced, like he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “She thought your career goals were to be Mrs. Dillon Beckman.”

Caitlin stared at him. “Is that what you think?”

“No.” He sighed. “But I wish you’d find a career job, so you’re happy with your work like I am.”

Needing to be not naked for this conversation, she got out of bed and pulled on the pj’s he’d stripped her out of last night. “I love what I do, Dillon.”

He snorted. “You love making sandwiches?”

“Wow. Okay,” she said slowly, suddenly mad all over again. “First of all, I make a lot more than sandwiches. And second, I get that it’s nothing high-powered like what you do, but cooking fulfills me. You know that.”

“You’re managing a deli and have a boss who micromanages you, even when you’re not at work. You complain about that job all the time. We both know you could do better for yourself. I thought you wanted to do better.”

She paused, unable to deny a lot of that. “Is that why you told everyone you don’t want kids right now, because I don’t have the right job to please your family? Because you’ve never said that before. Kids are on your list, and you led me to believe it’s something you wanted too.”

“We’re just not in a place to have kids yet.”

Her heart sank. “Since when? We have dogs. How much harder can a baby be?”

“Babe . . . babies are expensive and require planning. We haven’t even started. First we need to create our retirement fund, build an education fund, beef up our savings accounts, and buy a house. And with me the only one bringing in any substantial money, that isn’t going to happen any time soon.”

Okay, don’t overreact. You’ve jumped on him and it’s early. He hates early. He hates anything before his requisite five-mile run, shower, and coffee. But apparently, she couldn’t help herself. “My parents had me early and they never regretted a thing.”

“I’m not sure I want a big, crazy houseful like you had. Kids coming and going, and don’t even try to tell me that your parents prioritizing saving all the foster kids in the land didn’t affect you. You’re upending your life for them—still.”

She chewed on that for a moment. “I know you don’t understand this, but my parents felt they had enough love and resources to make a difference, and they did. And I’d hoped to do the same.”

“You can’t save the world, Cat.”

Maybe not, but she could save the people in her orbit. “So is that list of yours just generic then, or specific to me?” she asked.

“What difference does it make?”

“A huge difference,” she said.

He got out of the bed and pulled on sweats.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked.

“I need caffeine to deal with you. Lots of it.”

“Dillon.”

With a sigh, he turned back.

“We’re getting married in eight days,” she said softly. “Now would be a good time to tell me that you’ve changed your mind.”