“We haven’t exactly been careful,” she says, a little breathless as she tips back the rest of her wine. “It might already be too late for condoms.”
“I can buy them tomorrow,” I grin. “Unless we’re not going to need them.”
She laughs softly. “It took us almost a year to get pregnant with Tate.”
My eyes narrow as I study her. “I remember.” A beat before I add, “What are you saying?”
She bites her bottom lip, her eyes gleaming with something wild and tender. “I have no idea,” she says, laughing again, but there’s heat in the curve of her mouth, and certainty in the way she moves.
She sets her wine down and climbs off my lap, standing in front of me. Then, with a slow grace that makes my heart thud in my chest, she pulls her sweater over her head and lets it fall to the floor.
“Jules…”
She holds my gaze as she unclasps her bra and drops it behind her. With the same boldness, she unbuttons her jeans and slides them and her underwear down in one motion.
“I still don’t know what you’re thinking,” I whisper, breath catching. “Though I have an idea.”
She gives me that look—that impossibly confident, soft-smirking look that used to undo me in all the best ways. “We had so much fun trying the first time.”
My voice falters. “Julianne…”
She straddles me, completely bare and utterly fearless. Her skin is warm against mine, her eyes locked onto mine withpurpose. “I have lost everything, Corbin. Most of my material possessions, but the things that really mattered—Tate, you, the coffee shop—they’re still here. It’s not things that make a life. It’s people. It’s dreams. And maybe the dreams are different now. Maybe I want to focus on something real. The only things that have ever lasted in my life are the things I’ve built with you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice low and reverent.
She nods, no hesitation. “We can buy the condoms tomorrow. But tonight? If it happens, then it was always meant to be.”
“You’re leaving this up to fate?” I tease, even though my heart is pounding. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I’ve spent so long building walls,” she murmurs, her hands cradling my face. “I want to build something else now. A home. A family. With you.”
“Say it,” I whisper, because I need to hear it. I need her to say the thing I’ve wanted for years.
She breathes it out like a vow. “I love you, Corbin. I want to live with you. Dream with you. Make babies with you. Grow old beside you.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” she says, smiling against my mouth as her fingers find the button of my pants. “I want forever to start right now.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Jules
“What do you mean Trey is coming here for Thanksgiving?” Corbin whisper-yells, his voice sharp but barely above a growl as Tate sits at the dining table, hunched over a turkey-shaped coloring page, chatting cheerfully with his grandma.
I pause mid-peel, the potato slipping slightly in my hand as I glance at Corbin. He’s standing by the stove, the oven light casting golden warmth across his scowling face.
“He didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I say. “His parents are in Aruba. His sister’s in Seattle. He was going to spend the holiday alone.”
“So he’s crashing our family dinner?” Corbin shoots me a look. “Jules.”
“He’s bringing a date,” I add, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. “It’s not like he’s coming to—”
“Coming to what?” Corbin cuts in, lowering his voice even more as he leans in close, his words brushing against the shell of my ear. “Make things awkward? Because he already did that when he kissed you.”
My shoulders tense, but I keep peeling. “It was one kiss,” I murmur, trying not to let guilt seep into my tone. “It wasn’t even that good.”
“That’s not the point,” he mutters, his hand finding my waist like it’s second nature. “I still don’t like him.”
