Page 35 of Touch Me

“I did, though. But that was only part of it,” I add,hurrying on before he can interrupt. “The thing is… I want it, too. A baby, Imean. I really, really do.”

“Oh, Kitten.” He brushes my cheek, then tugs me to the sofa.“I never doubted that. Never doubted that we’d have a family, and that youwanted it, too. But are you sure you want it now?”

I look into those ice-blue eyes, trying to read the answerhe expects. But I can’t. For better or for worse, he’s really left thisdecision to me.

“I was an only child,” I say, shifting to sit sideways so myfeet are in his lap. “I don’t really get the whole sibling thing, but I do knowhow much better my life was once Nikki and Ollie were in it. They were mysister and brother. My family. And, yeah, I want this little niblet. And unlessI truly suck at mothering, I’ll probably want another one.”

His brows rise, and I point a stern finger. “But no morethan two. Even with help, Nikki and Damien are outnumbered. That’s scary shitsometimes.”

He laughs. “Moira and I made a pretty good team. I think twois the perfect number.” He cups my ankle. “But baby, are you sure? I don’t likethe idea of you giving up your dream.”

“I’m not,” I tell him. “I can still work. And the mega-moviestar thing?” I shrug. “Well, I almost got there with Intercontinental.Nothing can take that away.”

I watch his face and can tell that even though he’sunderstanding me, he’s still not sure. Well, he’s not sure that I’msure.

“People change, Ryan,” I say. “Being on the big screen wasmy dream when I was thirteen years old. Before that, I wanted to be a fighterpilot. I don’t even remember what movie I’d seen, but damn I wanted to fly likethat.” I pull a face. “Maybe that’s why I like sex so much. That rush.”

He chuckles. “I’ll have to see if I can figure out whatmovie that might have been.”

“Gold star if you do. But here’s the thing. The little kiddream didn’t stick. The thirteen-year-old’s dream lingered, except it was stilljust a dream. And that thirteen-year-old girl didn’t factor in how amazing itis to have a husband who loves her. And—I swear, I’m not keeping the baby foryou. But I am keeping it because of you. At least a little.”

I see the way his throat moves, and I think I see a tear inthe corner of his eyes when he whispers, “Kitten.”

“You make me have different dreams, Ryan.” My voice isbarely more than a whisper. “I guess that’s part of what love does. And it’s agood part. A very good part.”

“Yes,” he says. “It is.”

I scoot closer, then climb into his lap. “And I can stillact. Maybe one day I’ll even be huge, and that’ll be super fun, except thatthis one will hate me for putting him in the spotlight.” I squeeze his hands.“Either way, I’m good. Really.”

“Him?”

“Well, duh. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

His brow furrows, and I roll my eyes. “Men,” I say. “It’sthat damn Y chromosome that has always made me an emotional wreck. So clearlythe niblet in my belly is going to be all male. And considering what a messI’ve been, he’ll be at least as masculine as his father.”

“God, but I love you.”

I toss him a smirk. “I hope so. Hell, I’m about to get asbig as a house. Are you sure you’re going to want to put up with a woman whowaddles?”

He strokes my hair, then kisses my forehead. “Very sure.”

I snuggle closer, then pull his head down for a soft sweetkiss. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I know.” He presses his palm to my belly. “I love you, too.Both of you.” Then he grins. “This is going to be a hell of an adventure.”

I laugh. “Yeah,” I say. “And I really can’t wait.”

Epilogue

“Wait, say that again?” Gabby says, her expression lookingabout as confused as an eighth grader faced with a calculus problem.

Despite the fact that I’m trying to lose an extra tenpounds, we’re drinking lattes and eating muffins on the patio of Upper Crust,an awesome Malibu bakery not far from the house. And I’m playing fairygodmother. For her and for me.

“I said that Matthew is all over Doppelgänger. He’sthrilled to be co-producing it. And about how much buzz it already has.”

I check my phone for a text from Ryan, then frown when Idon’t see one. I tap my finger on the tabletop and tell myself that I’m notgetting antsy. That all is well. That they haven’t been in a fiery caraccident, and that no household accident has ambulances racing to my house.

“Buzz?” Gabby interrupts my rising angst. “It’s not evenpublished yet.”