Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Delilah
After years of being a caregiver and the one to always help anyone in need, it’s nice to be taken care of for once. But I never anticipated Wilder being the one doing it.
As we rinse off in the shower, he lathers soap over every inch of my body, slowly caressing his strong hands into my muscles and gently rubbing through the knots in my back and neck. The hot water streams down our bodies from the rainfall showerhead.
“I’m never leavin’ this place.” I moan when he brings his hand between my legs to wash me there.
“Why do you think they book out a year in advance? Most of their bookings are returnin’ customers.”
“I’m ready to move in and never leave.”
“I could remodel my bathroom like this for ya if you wanted,” he mutters from behind me. “Although, I’d love to build a house on the ranch property like Landen and Ellie. Be close to the ranch while still havin’ privacy.”
“You’ve thought about stuff like that?”
“Of course. I don’t wanna live in the ranch hand quarters forever. They’re nice enough for a bachelor but not nearly enough room for a family. I want my kids to have their own rooms and plenty of room for a swing set, trampoline, or sandbox. Plus, the dogs will need a yard to roam free.”
I blink my eyes open, double-checking the man behind me is the same man I married.
“Why’re you lookin’ at me like you’re surprised to hear I want kids and dogs?”
“Because I recall hearin’ ya say you weren’t settlin’ down for another twenty years. Goin’ from that to this is quite the extreme.”
“That’s before I knew being with you was an option.
” He faces me and winks, shifting the shower head so it doesn’t spray in our faces.
“And I know we’re in this thirty-day trial, but you should know, I’m all in with you and want everythin’ you’re willin’ to give me.
Babies, dogs, hell, cats too. And I’m happy to give you anythin’ you want—deep tub included. ”
“I’m still not used to this open and sweet side of you,” I admit bashfully. “Sometimes I forget you’re the same man I’ve had to pull over on the side of the road for so you could throw up after drinkin’ too much.”
“That was a man buryin’ his pain with alcohol.” He closes the gap between us, cupping my face until our lips are inches apart. “Now the only pain I have is the thought of losin’ you.”
I lean in, bringing our mouths together for a brief kiss. “I share that same fear, Wilder. Since the moment I heard your voice and what you’d done to yourself, it consumed my thoughts. Even years later.”
“I can promise you I’m never puttin’ anyone through that trauma again. I work every day to fight those demons and they’re not gonna win.”
“I hate that you even have to.”
He brushes wet strands off my forehead, looking more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him. “Therapy’s been workin’ nicely. The antidepressants are still new and a low dose, so it’s too early to tell, but I’m hopeful for the first time in my life that I’m on the right path.”
“You’re takin’ medication? Since when?”
“A month ago.” He shrugs. “I agreed to give them a shot, but that’s why I need to limit my alcohol. I gave myself a pass for Vegas, but now I wanna stay clean to give them a chance to work.”
“I’m so proud of you for givin’ yourself the best opportunity at success. The Wilder I knew a year ago woulda never done this for himself.”
“Your dad’s death gave me a new perspective.
After seeing Harlow, your mom, and you distraught and heartbroken, somethin’ clicked in my mind that I needed to get help before it was too late.
Before I let the darkness consume me and win.
I knew I couldn’t ignore it or drink the pain away for much longer. ”
Tears well in the corner of my eyes. Dad’s suicide affected everyone. Even if I could understand the chronic pain made him take that path, I’m still conflicted about my anger and sadness.
Wilder’s thumbs wipe over my cheeks, catching the tears before they fall.
“I’m so sick of cryin’,” I whisper. “And feelin’ sad.”
“Let it out, baby. You don’t need to hide your pain from me.”
He wraps his arms around me, pushing our bodies together. When I bury my face against his chest, the tears continue to fall.
“Thanks for makin’ me feel safe,” I murmur once I’m all cried out. “Not sure I’ve had that before.”
Cupping my jaw, he presses a kiss to my temple. “That’s my job—a privilege—and one I take seriously.”
“These are the fluffiest robes I’ve ever worn.” I beam, snuggling deeper into it while Wilder cooks our steaks, and I watch from the breakfast bar.
“They don’t call it a luxury resort for nothin’.” He grins. “Kinda cool to experience it as an adult, though. We usually camped out in the woods in tents and our trucks.”
“I can see why couples come here. Gorgeous views, peaceful, and a romantic getaway with your partner.”
“We always joked that it’s the same model as the retreat, except ours focuses on families with kids, and theirs centers around couples only. Which, speakin’ of, I have a couple’s massage scheduled for us tomorrow before I gotta go to my anger management class. Hope you don’t mind I planned that.”
My jaw’s already on the floor before he finishes his sentence. “Are you kiddin’? That sounds amazin’.”
“As long as they don’t send a man to rub my wife, then it will be.”
I roll my eyes, biting into a piece of the dark chocolate from the welcome basket. “Same goes for a woman rubbin’ my husband, then.”
“Say that again,” he orders, his voice deeper than before.
“Which part?” I ask, confused.
“Where you called me your husband.” He stalks over, turns my stool around so he can stand between my legs, and then cages me in with his arms against the counter behind me. “I wanna hear you call me that again.”
“I shouldn’t reward this caveman-like behavior…” I bite down on my lower lip when his gaze drops to my mouth.
He plucks my lip out, then rubs the pad of his thumb across it. “Please?”
“Well…since you asked so nicely,” I taunt, bringing my hands up to his T-shirt and fisting the fabric to bring him closer. “I don’t want another woman touchin’ my husband.”
His blue eyes darken and a raspy growl echoes from his throat before he slams his mouth down on mine. His tongue twists with mine, devouring me like he’s waited his whole life to taste me.
The frying pan lid whistling grabs our attention and he rushes over to turn the burner down.
“Shit, I forgot about the steaks.” He shakes his head, quickly flipping the meat. “You distracted me.”
“Me? I was sittin’ here mindin’ my own business when you mauled me.”
The side-eye he gives me makes me giggle.
I admire his back as he continues cooking, and even though I offer to help, he demands I stay put. Since he’s not drinking, he told me to enjoy the champagne, so I pour myself a glass and drink it at the table while I wait.
“How many kids do you want?” I blurt when Wilder serves me my plate. A juicy steak with mushrooms and a baked potato stuffed with sour cream and cheese. I’m impressed with how well he did.
“Uh…maybe three.”
“Boys or girls?” I cut into the meat and then dip it in the sauce before eating it.
“Doesn’t matter to me, but one of each would be cool.”
I nod as I finish chewing my food. “What kind of dog do you want?”
He furrows his brows, sticking his fork into a piece of meat. “I feel like I’m in a datin’ interview.”
“Well, kinda. Couples usually talk about this stuff during the datin’ period and before they get married. Since we skipped all that, we’re havin’ it now.”
“Okay…I think I’d like a Great Dane.”
My eyes bulge out of my head. “Those are huge! Practically mini horses.”
“I know. Big ole babies. What kind do you want?”
“I was thinkin’ like a Bernese Mountain Dog. They’re great farm and ranch dogs. Plus, they’re amazin’ with kids. Good work dog, good family dog. Win-win.”
“Okay, I can agree with that. Whaddya wanna name him?”
“Why do you assume we’re gettin’ a boy dog?”
“Oookay, what do ya wanna name her?”
“Depends which month she’s born and time of year.”
He gives me a weary look. “Why’s that matter?”
“Because it’ll determine if she gets a summer name or a winter name.”
He smiles around his fork as if he’s holding back from laughing at me. “Alright, let’s say she’s born in summer.”
“Sunny, Daisy, Mango, Callie.” To name a few.
“Cute. What if she’s born in winter?”
“Ivy, Cocoa, Rory, Holly.”
“What if she’s born in the fall?”
“Ah, trick question.” I smirk, quickly thinking. “Belle, Willow, Ember, Hazel.”
“How do you come up with these so fast?”
“I’ve been keepin’ track of baby names I like since I was twelve.”
“So you have our baby’s names picked out too?”
I chuckle, lifting my shoulder slightly. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“I’d like a Great Dane named Hank.”
“Hank?” I snort, taking a sip of my champagne.
“Hank Hollis! Doesn’t that sound badass?”
“Oh my God,” I gasp, some of the liquid going up my nose.
“So how soon do you wanna have babies and dogs?” he asks, handing me a napkin for my face.
“Uh, well…accordin’ to my OB and mother, I’m not gettin’ any younger and neither are my eggs. I’ll be considered high-risk when I’m thirty-five.”
“That’s still four years away.”
“Right, but if we want three kids and each pregnancy takes nine months plus however long it takes to get pregnant, I should be pregnant with the first one”—I do the math in my head since I’ll be thirty-two soon—“within the next three months if I wanna avoid the potential high-risk flag during my third pregnancy.”
His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows his food down. “Okay, then…well, I mean, after the thirty days are up, we should consider uh…makin’ it happen within that timeframe.”
I push my tongue into my cheek to keep from laughing at how flustered he sounds. “Are you sweatin’?”
“No, well, if I am, it’s because I was in the hot kitchen. Not because we’re talkin’ about babies.”
“Mm-hmm. Maybe we start with a dog, then?”
“I wasn’t sweatin’ over that,” he urges.
When I arch my brow, he sits up straighter with determination.
“Don’t believe me? I’ll knock you up right now.” He aims his thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
This time, I do crack up. “Stop worryin’. I think you’ll make a great dad someday. When we’re ready to take that step.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes. I’ve seen you with your nieces, Willow and Poppy, and even your nephew, Laken.” Tripp and Magnolia’s son is a year old, but he started walking three months ago and gives them a run for their money. “Not sayin’ it’d be easy, but I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”
“I can see that. You’re gonna be an amazin’ one, too.”
“But a dog first…right?” I ask hesitantly because now I’m conflicted.
“Right, right. Like next week?”
“House, dog, and then babies.”
“Okay, hold on…” He pulls out his phone. “Lemme write this down.”
I playfully kick him underneath the table. “It’s okay if we let things happen how they happen. Not everythin’ has to be planned out. Considerin’ none of this was in the plan…” I wave my hand between us. “I kinda like not knowin’ what’s comin’.”
“Good, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about life so far, it’s that the unexpected parts are the most fun.”
“I’ll cheers to that.” I hold up my glass and clank it with his sweet tea.
“Everythin’ was delicious, by the way. You’re not half bad in the kitchen,” I tell him once we’ve cleared our plates.
“That’s the limit on what I can do, so don’t get too excited.”
“It’s more than I can do,” I admit, rinsing the dishes in the sink.
He stands behind me, brushing my hair off to one shoulder. “There’s ice cream in the freezer if you’d like some dessert.”
“Hm…that sounds great.”
“I think it’d taste even better suckin’ it off this neck…” He slides his tongue underneath my ear, making me shiver.
“Stop fidgetin’…” I demand for the third time, smacking his hand away from his face.
“Is it supposed to be so itchy?” He wiggles his nose, making the sheet mask move with it.
“That means it’s workin’. Give it a few more minutes.” I snuggle into the couch next to him, flipping through movies until we can agree on one.
After dinner and eating dessert—in a bowl—I wanted to use some of the items from the gift basket and noticed there were two masks. He didn’t find it as amusing as I did when I laughed at how it fit over his facial hair.
“It’s cold,” he complains.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a rough ’n’ tough cowboy? Can’t handle a little self-care?”
“I get to pick the next activity,” he says with a pout.
“Does it involve you being naked?”
“Well, you definitely will be.”
I nudge him with my elbow.
“But once I see that butt plug in your tight little ass, I’ll be naked, too.”
“Wait, what?”
“You said you lost the remote to yours, so I had Mattie pick up a new one.”
“Oh my God…” My head falls back on the cushion. “You told my best friend to buy me a new plug?”
“Trust me, she was more than happy to help.”
“Why am I not even surprised?” I shake my head, cackling at the idea of them having a conversation about butt plugs.
We finally decide on what to watch after he vetoed all my rom-coms and I rejected his action movies.
“We can take these off before we start it…” I jump to my feet and then pull him up with me.
“Thank God,” he mutters.
“Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. Under eye masks are next.”
“Under what? Why?”
“Because after thirty, we get eye bags, and these’ll help.”
Once we dry our faces, I get the eye masks out. “And they’re cute.”
“Just what I was hopin’ for,” he deadpans.
“You mock me, but one day you’ll thank me when everyone else our age has baggy eyes but you don’t.”
He smirks. “Are you sayin’ you won’t love me if I do?”
My heart ticks up at the casual way he drops the L-word. I’m not even sure he realizes he said it because he doesn’t even flinch.
“No, but it’ll keep us lookin’ younger. And it’s refreshin’.” I grin, placing one underneath each of his eyes and rubbing my finger over them to make sure they stick. “There.”
He glances in the mirror. “Of course they’re pink and purple.”
“I dunno what you’re complainin’ about. Purple is so your color,” I tease, placing the other set under my eyes.
“Is it?” He purses his lips into a faux kissy pout and checks himself out in the mirror.
“Just remember…” I turn and go up on my tippytoes to bring our mouths closer. “You married this.”
He closes his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. “Sure did, and I’d do it again, sober or drunk.”
“I think that’s meant to be sweet, right?” I wrap my hands around his biceps, holding on to him.
He kisses the top of my nose. “That’s correct, Mrs. Hollis.”
Oh God, that’s the first time he’s called me that.
Besides the time he did it as a joke before we got hitched.
And while a part of me thinks that name is reserved for his mother, the other part is totally turned on by it.
“So…” I lick my lips. “Where did you say that butt plug is?”