Time (Laws of Physics #3)(70)

Her hands came down on the table and she leaned forward. “After everything I just said, that’s what you want to talk about? The fence?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the only thing I disagreed with,” I shrugged, giving her a small smile.

Mona blinked like I’d blown dust in her eyes, and then leaned back in her chair again, her pretty lips parted. “You want to have a family? Kids?”

“Absolutely.”

“And a house? In a quiet, suburban neighborhood?”

“I honestly don’t care where we do it, but we can’t have a picket fence.”

She wrinkled the bridge of her nose, blinking again. “It’s not about the fence. But you said, when we were in Aspen, that you hadn’t given marriage much thought.”

“I haven’t. But you don’t need to be married to have a family, children, a home.”

“Do you don’t want to be married?”

“Are you proposing?” I grinned, lifting an eyebrow.

She made a face, clearly trying her best not to laugh, and asked, “Since when have you wanted kids?”

“Since forever.” I scratched my beard, busy imagining what this dream of hers would entail, and I couldn’t help but think about my own childhood. Moments I’d witnessed between my parents, how they’d shared their struggles and joys. Of course I wanted that.

Things hadn’t always been easy for my family. My parents had struggled financially to make my dad’s business work, and we’d had lean years. But I’d watched my mom and dad fight to make their marriage work, fight for my sister and me, fight for each other. Apparently, Mona wanted it too, presumably with me.

No. Obviously with you. She wouldn’t have told you if she didn’t want it with you.

Indulging my imagination, my mind drifted to scenes from our future. What would that be like? A house, kids, a home with Mona? Beyond heavenly.

Her gaze softened. “I had no idea.”

“Well, now you do.” My grin grew because she was smiling at me, her eyes dazed and warm and happy, and I lost myself a little in her gorgeous whiskey gaze. Truly, she was breathtaking.

I could get used to this, making Mona happy on accident, just by being myself.

Speaking of which.

On a sudden impulse, I blurted, “I need to tell you something.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes. Of course.”

“So, I’m worried about you and what happens when the press release goes out tomorrow.”

“Abram—”

“No, wait. Listen. I’m confessing here.” I didn’t believe this admission would make her happy but being honest felt important.

“Okay. Fine. Proceed.” She didn’t roll her eyes, but she looked like she was tempted.

I wavered for a second before admitting, “I’m glad you turned down your sister.”

That got her attention. “Glad?”

“Yes. Relieved. Happy.”

“Really?”

“Things are going to be significantly more difficult than I thought they would be. I’m going to fight the world for you. But part of me—the selfish part—really wants everyone to know.”

Her smile wide, Mona reached across the table and entwined our fingers. “That we’re together?”

“Yes. I want them to know that you’re mine.” I lifted the fingers I loved so much and kissed them, one at a time. “And that I’m yours.”





We were most of the way back to the B&B when Mona said, “It’s frustrating that people can’t use the same adjectives to describe men that are used to describe women, and vice versa.”

I glanced at her. “What? What do you mean?”

“Like, graceful. You call me or parts of my body graceful. And even though they apply to you, I wouldn’t say so aloud.” We stopped at the gate for her to enter the code.

“Why not?” I didn’t see a problem with being called graceful.

“I wouldn’t want to, I don’t know, make you think I—bah!” The gate buzzed.

I opened it for her to walk through. “Do you think of me as graceful?”

“Y-yes,” she said, stumbling on the word while we climbed the concrete steps.

“Good.” We paused at the keypad for the door. “Because I am graceful.”

Mona lifted her chin and grinned at me. “Yes. In so many ways.” Her eyes seemed to grow hazy and hot, and I didn’t need to guess what was on her mind.

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Not touching her was hard. In fact, when she looked at me like she was looking at me now, a lot of things were hard.

Clearing my throat, I withdrew one hand to open the door to the bed and breakfast. “Then tell me I am. It’s a beautiful word, with a beautiful meaning, no matter how it’s applied, unless it’s ironic or sarcastic. I think you should tell me how you feel, what you feel about me, and not worry about baggage that comes along with the adjectives.”

“Beautiful?” She looked over her shoulder, waiting for me to draw even with her before continuing to the stairs.

“Thank you. I rather am, aren’t I?”

She chuckled, her gaze sweeping down and then up. “Yes, you rather are. Let me see, what other terms, words, and labels can I apply now that the entire vocabulary is open to me?”