Chapter 16 Ewan #2
Her side-eye morphs into an eye roll, and then laughter. Phew.
“Oh, no, I draw the line at deer stands and duck blinds. Those can remain unchristened.”
“Fair.”
“I mean it,” she reiterates, letting my hand go so she can dress her hot dog. “I want it all.”
Taking a big bite of her hot dog, she slowly chews, letting her bomb explode. Or well, fizzle out. Because that reaction isn’t surprising to me. It’s relatable.
“Same.”
Maisey stops mid-chew, her eyes going wide, waiting on me to elaborate. There isn’t anything left to say though. I want it all, with her.
I want late nights and shared secrets—inside jokes that only we understand and couldn’t explain if we tried.
I want the wedding where our mamas fuss over details that I won’t give two shits about, while Maisey tries not to have a meltdown over everything being perfect.
I want sleepless nights filled with crying babies and family camping trips.
I want to spoil her on birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Days, Christmases, and every other stupid holiday—made-up or otherwise—that someone can think of for the rest of our lives.
I want her to be the one I wake up with when we’re both old and gray.
“Tell me something, Mais…”
“Anything.”
“You mentioned our kids; what else do you see in this future of ours?”
Maisey stops, hot dog partway to her mouth. “Well, I mean…”
She trails off, pressing her lips together as she looks for the answer that is going to sound the least presumptuous. I let her panic, just for a few seconds, loving how cute she looks like this with her eyes darting back and forth, searching for the answer in the campfire smoke.
Clearing her throat, she turns back to face me fully, popping the last bite of her dinner into her mouth.
“If I’m being that girl, and just letting all my fantasies run wild…” Her eyes sparkle, and I know it’s not just the firelight dancing in them this time. “Two kids, a matching pair. None of this one of each nonsense. Whatever the first one comes out as, that’s what I want the second to be.”
I nod, not sure how to respond to that oddly specific detail. She’s a nurse, so it’s not like she isn’t very aware that’s not how the process works, but it’s her daydream, so who am I to stop her.
“Plus a dog. But not like a golden doodle or something like that. I mean like a beagle or a blue heeler or something that you can take hunting and camping and fishing.”
Shaking my head, I reach for the meat in the cooler again, slipping round two onto the roasting sticks. I hand her one, not bothering to hide the silly grin on my face.
“What’s that look for?”
I shake my head, still not hiding my smile. “When you said you were going to be that girl, I thought I was going to get an earful about a wedding and a house, and maybe even the names you have picked out for our kids, not the very specific dog breeds you want us to have.”
“I have a whole list of names, don’t you worry,” she mutters, yanking a roasting stick out of my hand.
I throw my head back laughing. The last thing I was worried about was her having a list of baby names.
“Laugh all you want, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it. And not just since I’ve been back. It’s all part of why I’m back. Of why…”
She pauses, holding on to her breath.
“Why what?” I press.
“Do you know what my first, gut, knee-jerk reaction was when Dolly texted me last year telling me that she and Hux were together? I was jealous. I mean, I was happy for her too. Because everyone knows those two belong together. But…but at the same time, it made me start thinking about all the things I wanted from life.” She exhales loudly, letting out all the air she’d been holding on to.
“How I wanted both the career and the family. And while the career part was going well, the other parts—all those things—were back here, with you. I’m not trying to make this all heavy, but…
for all that time I spent growing up thinking about getting away from here, now, this is the only place I want to be. ”
“That’s because growing up we didn’t realize we could have a sex tent,” I comment.
Maisey side-eyes me again, and this time I’m sure I’m gonna get it.
“Oh no, I thought about us having sex in a tent,” she admits.
“Senior year in high school. That trip we took the weekend before Rhythm and Brews, when our parents actually agreed to let us go, just us? When you only brought the one tent, I thought maybe something might happen, and kept waiting for you to make a move. But you were a perfect gentleman all weekend.”
I groan internally, remembering every minute of that weekend like it was last week.
What had inspired both the Phillipses and the Hayeses to suddenly waive the “no unchaperoned boy-girl overnight trips” rule is still beyond me, but Maisey and I jumped on the chance to get away, sans parents.
Looking back on it, I can’t help but wonder if that was their way of condoning more than a friendship between us, thinking that we would cross the line if left alone.
Except, Maisey’s right—I left the line completely untouched.
Something that took a level of self-restraint that I still think is worthy of a gold medal.
“You have no idea how much I didn’t want to be. Had I known you didn’t want me to be either…”
My dick twitches at the memory, my hands itching to hold her right now just thinking about all of this. I need something to cool my ardor. A change of subject.
“Want to know what I want our future to look like?” I ask, hoping it’s enough to distract her.
“More than anything.”
“I want to hire someone else to help me run the store. Dennis is great, but he works for exactly two reasons. One—so that Abigal isn’t always fussin’ at him about being under foot all day, and two—so he gets a discount on fishing gear.
If it were legal, I’m pretty sure he’d let me pay him in store credit.
What I need is someone who can really take over, full-time, and be a retail manager for me. ”
Maisey looks at me with an intent focus, her interest piqued. “You want to step away from the store?”
“Not completely. I still enjoy getting in all the new toys and helping people learn and be properly equipped. But if I can get someone who is fully focused on that, I can turn my attention to the guided tours and environmental education side of things. I want to grow that portion of the business a lot more. Which I think I can—I’ve got a few irons in the fire, so to speak.
There’s a decent market for it, believe it or not. ”
“I absolutely believe it.”
“Plus, it has the added benefit of giving me flexibility to really be a hands-on dad and work around your ER schedule.”
“What?”
The question is out of her so fast, I question if she actually heard me or is just surprised by my answer. Time to double down.
“I presume you want to go back to an ER, which potentially means nights, weekends, and twelve-hour shifts. Not having to do retail, which also has those, means I have extra flexibility for that matching set you want.”
Maisey leaps from her chair, dropping her roasting stick onto the ground and tackling me in a hug. The force from her landing in my lap is enough to make the chair rock, but thankfully not fully knock us over. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in close as she buries her face into my neck.
“You’re gonna burn your hot dog.”
“I don’t care about that.”
She squeezes me tighter, head still buried, and I feel tears against my neck. Damn, I hope those are happy tears. I squeeze her back, holding on tight and cherishing this moment. I spent too long without her not to hold on every chance I get.
“Fuck the hot dog…” she mutters.
“Not gonna do that. Not even sure how that would work.” I chuckle. “You, on the other hand…”
Maisey sits up, her eyes glossy with unshed tears, playfully shoving me. I shrug, not at all sorry for my comment.
“I love you, Ewan.”
“I love you, Maisey. That’s never changed.”
Shifting in my lap, she reaches down into the cooler. I try to lean over to see what she’s after, but can’t get a good look from this angle without risking us toppling over. A second later, her hand reappears, holding up a ketchup packet.
“What’s that for?”
A sly smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, her tears gone and replaced by an impish look that only Maisey can pull off. Ripping the packet open with her teeth, she takes my hand, squeezing out a portion of the red condiment, then following suit on her own hand.
“We already made the pact about no more secrets, but we didn’t swear it in ketchup.”
“We said we didn’t need to,” I remind her.
“I know, but I’m adding to it, and I think it’s important that we do it properly.”
“Okay…”
“And I’m very, very serious about this. Promise me you won’t laugh.”
Pressing our hands together, she looks me in the eye, as serious as I’ve ever seen her.
“If we have girls, and they want to learn, you’ll teach them to shoot and hunt and all that just like you would the boys.”
I wrap my hand around hers, completing the handshake hold, and squeeze. This is the easiest thing I’ve ever promised.
“Of course.”
“And if genetics works against us, and we end up with one of each, we curse the universe, but we don’t go for the third.”
There is determination in her declaration, leaving no room for doubt that right here, right now, she means this. My stupid own sly smile starts to form and I have to fight it, afraid that it’ll look too much like a laugh—something I promised I wouldn’t do.
Nodding, I reach deep inside and keep my face as straight as possible, knowing that I won’t keep that part of my promise the day she looks at me and tells me she wants more. Because there is no way I’m ever going to be able to deny her what she wants.
“I swear it in ketchup,” I say.
“Most sacred bond there is,” she says with a giggle.
I kiss her, softly at first, then deepening it. At least as much as I can with our hands still clasped together between us, oozing with ketchup. Turns out those packets came in handy after all.
“You’re gonna need another hot dog—that one is ruined,” I say as she pulls back.
Maisey nods, that impish look still in her eyes. “Can we toast the buns this time?”
My dick twitches again, my mind instantly filling with dirty thoughts. All because she said buns.
“Oh, I’ll toast your buns…”
“Save that for after, please.” She drags her core against my crotch, wiggling as she climbs out of my lap and back into her own chair. “That’s what the sex tent is for.”
Hell yes.