It didn’t eat at her the way she expected, because she couldn’t lie, didn’t even have the faintest desire to, she’d imagined it too.
Little scuffed shoes lined up beside theirs by the door, blonde curls peeking above the dinner table, and grubby toes in a bubble bath.
She’d considered all of it, enough times that she’d even offered up the images to her fiancé more than once; she was past the secrets, they were, and maybe that’s why he was confident in their readiness.
“Do you really–” She paused, suddenly freezing beneath the sharpness of his blue gaze, twisting her fingers in the comforter under her thighs, slightly tempted to sink into the mattress itself.
“Do you really think we’re ready?”
Tossing his phone down on the nightstand, a brightly colored game of candy crush, or something like it, still showing on the screen, he twisted on the pillows to face her. “I think it’s the closest we’ll ever get to being there.”
“Deeks,” shifting closer, she laid a palm over his on the blankets between them, the physical connection somehow always making the words flow easier. “What happens with us every day… and I know you offered to leave, but I don’t want to have to lose you and maybe it’s too unstable.”
Shaking his head, his eyes flickered shut for a nanosecond, tongue drawing over his top lip before he met her sight again, soft determination shining through.
“That’s just it, Kens. Our jobs are like a freaking earthquake, never know when it’ll pass, what could harm us, but we’re not. End of the day, and this is always us, we’re here, we’re together, we’re the stable ground and you make the coffee every morning and I make the bed, and every night we’re back in it, and maybe that makes us boring, but I think it would make us damn good parents too.”
Untangling their hands to slide closer, she relaxed her head against his shoulder, feeling his even breaths for a few cycles before lifting her voice again.
“You might be right.”
“A little girl would be adorable.”
His laugh rumbling through her body too, he craned an arm around them, resting it atop her belly, gesture both silly and sincere. “Maybe one of each.”
“One at a time.”