Chapter Forty-Eight #2
“So that the family room was part of the kitchen.”
Her stomach clenched, and she didn’t know what to say. “They call this the living room. Gigi has been very specific that they didn’t have a family room. There’s the great room, the living room, several sitting rooms, a dining room, a media room, and on and on and on.”
Chance scoffed. “I don’t think much living has happened in this room. I’d bet my ass, not as a family.”
How right he was.
Chance turned them and walked across the grand open space. “And instead of that spindly little sofa thing?”
“Something more comfortable,” she suggested.
“Yeah, something that doesn’t look like it’d give a guy hemorrhoids if he wanted to kick back and watch a ball game.”
Jane snickered. “No one wants those.”
“I’d put in a big leather sectional instead.”
She agreed. “One that’s big and comfy.”
“Where the whole family could lie on and watch Sunday football games.”
A blistering wave of awareness streaked straight to her womb. Her unsteady breath hitched, and Jane gulped from her wineglass.
He ambled to the spindly little sofa—she’d never look at that thing again without hearing his description—and sat in the middle.
With his long torso and muscular legs, he dwarfed the designer sofa as though he were a giant—a playful one.
Chance wriggled on the cushion, giving it a little bounce.
“Definitely a high risk of hemorrhoids over here.”
She laughed. “Good to know.”
He jumped up and walked over to the delicate statue precariously sitting on a narrow pedestal. Jane bit the inside of her cheek not to warn him to be careful. It was ingrained in her as she constantly had to warn Teddy to “Watch out” and to “Be careful.”
“This is probably a masterpiece, huh?” he asked.
Her nerves settled the tiniest bit that he was aware the abstract design had major significance. “Yup.”
He cocked his head, eyes narrowed. “How do you fill your house with priceless breakable shit when you have kids?”
“You don’t.” She shrugged. “Unless you’re the Thanes. Then you hire a nanny and staff to make sure things won’t break.”
“How do you do that?” He kept his head at an angle as he studied the statue as though he were a rare art collector.
“We stay away as much as possible.”
With a small shake of his head, Chance drank from his glass, then asked, “Do you want kids?”
What? Jane blinked hard as though her eyes had anything to do with her ears. She’d heard him correctly. But… what?
He grinned and swept his wineglass in front of him. “A house this big needs a couple dozen kids.”
“A couple dozen?”
He shrugged. “No one needs this much square footage unless they have a score of kids.”
“If not realistic, your reasoning makes sense.” She didn’t know what else to say and imagined the buttoned-up room filled with a giant big-screen television, lumpy sectional, and dozens of kids running around with all their toys. His idea was a definite improvement.
“So, do you?” he asked, his attention steady and keen.
Jane tried not to read into that little life-compatibility question that every dating website on earth weighed heavily in its equation for happily ever after.
“I do,” she admitted, thrilled that she didn’t sound like she’d been huffing helium from balloons.
“I do, too.” His expression didn’t change, and as though this were everyday banter, he asked, “A lot or a little?” A playful smile broke. “Or, if we lived here, one dozen or two? Given the square footage.”
This had to be the wine talking. If they lived here? With their future offspring? “You’re awfully casual about our future brethren of kids.”
He laughed and took her hand. “We’re knocking down walls to remodel, why not fill it up too?”
Yeah, sure. Why not hold his hand and dream about a future that would never happen?
A pang of jealousy strummed in her chest. One day, when he retired, or life changed, he’d still want a warm, open home and a handful of kids.
She wouldn’t be the one to share that with him. “It’s always nice to imagine.”
“What else would we remodel?” He led them out of the elegant room into one of the attached sitting rooms. The wall directly across from them had been covered with photographs of either Gigi or Dax and some celebrity, famous politician, or renowned philanthropist. Several showed them at award shows.
Another wall in this room had been dedicated to framed magazine covers with one of their faces emblazoned on the front.
“This room…” Chance guffawed. “Says a lot.”
“No kidding.” She and Teddy never came in there. It felt as though hundreds of Thane eyes were watching them. Definitely creepy. She couldn’t imagine how Teddy must feel, his parents looking at him from every direction.
“Where are their family pictures?” His brow furrowed as he quickly reviewed the walls.
“Here’s one.” Jane pointed to a red-carpet picture. Gigi and Dax flanked two-year-old Teddy in a white tuxedo—an ensemble determined by a comment-poll from Gigi’s Instagram.
“That doesn’t count.” Chance rolled his eyes. “I’d knock down these walls too.”
She laughed. “Maybe you just need a smaller house.”
His eyebrow arched. “For our two dozen kids?” He shook his head. “Be practical, babe.”
She laughed. None of this was real. He didn’t want dozens of kids. The wine had clouded his jokes with romantic daydreams. “You’re nuts.”
He didn’t deny the accusation. “All of this shit would go.”
“Gone.” She flicked her wrist. “Replaced by a tasteful selection of family pictures. Birthday parties, football games—”
His expression brightened. “Hey, we’d have more than enough kids to fill our own teams.”
“Bonus.”
He chuckled.
Jane tried to envision their imaginary, ridiculous future as freely as he did. It only made her wistful. “I’d be one of those moms who sent out holiday cards every year. Ya know, the cute ones with the annual family photo. I always wished my parents had done that.”
He gave her shoulder a small squeeze but then humor curled on his lips. “We could do holiday calendars. A couple of kids for each month. We could group them by birthday.”
“Two dozen kids would take a while.” The idea made her laugh, and then she couldn’t stop laughing.
They were acting as certifiable as Dax and Gigi.
Yet, she was surprised how at easy it was to talk about something so important and intimate.
Kids. Family. Marriage? Sure, why not. It was her imaginary future.