His cheeks were rosy from the sun. And he was staring at me with that same love in his eyes. Love that stretched years.
“I have an idea,” I said.
He stayed quiet.
“How about once a year we come back to the beach for vacation?”
“Or we could stay…”
“No. I love our home. I want to raise Jacob and all our children there.” I looked over at Jacob who was sleeping under the umbrella.
Miller rolled us over in the sand, pinning me below him. “All our children, huh?”
My skin was sweaty from my run and I knew my back was now covered in sand. It reminded me of that time, years ago, when Miller had rolled around in the sand, completely covering himself. He was ridiculous. He was the love of my life. “Yes, all our children.”
“Were you thinking about making one right now?”
I laughed as he pressed his weight down on me. “We’re on a public beach. And Jacob is right there.”
Miller looked over at our son. “He’s sleeping.”
I laughed and put my hand on his chest. “Take me home, Miller. I want to go home.”
“You are my home.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I really am okay with staying. I’m addicted to your smiles, kid.”
“I’m okay. It was like you said. I just needed some air.”
He placed a kiss against my lips. We were on a secluded beach in the middle of the day. And Jacob was asleep. I breathed in Miller’s exhales as I wrapped my legs around his waist. MaybeI hadn’t needed air at all. Maybe I’d just needed to let him in again. Because his exhales were sweeter than the salty air.
Runaway - Chapter 49
6 Months Later - Thursday
Jacob sat on the kitchen counter as I finished the last batch of cupcakes.
“Jacob, no,” I said with a laugh as I grabbed him off the counter. He was used to being my little taste tester, but these had to wait. “Those are your birthday cupcakes. We have to wait till Daddy is home.”
“Daddy!”
“Yes, sweet boy.” I placed him back on the counter. “Be good.”
He crawled toward the cupcakes again.
I laughed and picked him back up. I didn’t want to wait either. “How about we go surprise Daddy at work?”
“Daddy!” Jacob yelled.
I peppered his face with kisses and he laughed. “Come on, let’s go get him to come home. We have a birthday to celebrate. Someone’s turning one!”
“Me.”
“Yes, you.” I kissed the tip of his head. “Let’s go get dressed.”
“No.” The way he said ‘no’ always broke my heart. He dragged out the “o” forever. And he put so much sadness and passionbehind it. Like he was always about to cry when he said it. But it was also somehow the most adorable thing I’d ever heard.
“Noooo,” he said again. He didnotlike clothes.
I blamed myself. I’d run around barefoot almost the whole time I was pregnant with him. I was pretty sure that somehow transferred to him. He only liked wearing a diaper. And ‘liked’ was probably too strong a term. Because he’d learned to take them off and loved running around naked the most.
