“My kids are growin’ up in a farmhouse.”
That was what he said.
And that was weird.
It was also disappointing.
I felt myself deflating.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“What’s this shit telling me?” he asked.
My head jerked.
“This… shit?” I asked back.
He threw a hand out to indicate the space. “Yeah. This shit.”
My spirits plummeted.
“I… well, I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Raiden, but obviously I screwed up again and—”
“Plant my sons in you, babe, they’re growin’ up in a farmhouse in the woods outside of town.”
My hand went back to the chair so I could lean my weight into it, seeing as my legs got suddenly weak.
“What?” I whispered.
“The fridge and stove, that’s cool. Gonna rent this place come winter, and decent appliances means we can jack up the rent. The rest, Hanna, total f**kin’ waste of money and time, unless you’re tellin’ me something with this shit.”
I was feeling a lot of things. Some of them I thought were good, others didn’t feel so great.
“Waste of—?” I began.
He took two steps toward me, stopped and put his hands on his h*ps again.
“What are we doin’ here?” he asked.
“I wanted to show you my surprise,” I answered, my voice growing small.
“No, Hanna. That’s not what I mean. I’m crashing here. You gotta know that. This is no place to live. It’s a necessary evil. I think we both know that Willow is it for us and if I wanted to waste time that at least I thought both of us had no desire to waste, I’d get a condo in Jackie’s complex or somethin’. Seein’ as at least I’d prefer not to waste time, I’m not gonna jack around with a year lease which is the only thing she gives. So what the f**k are we doing here?”
I took a calming breath and stated, “Okay, honey, I think I need a bounty hunter language lesson or you need to revert back to normal people speak because I went all out to make your space livable while you were gone and you aren’t being real cool about that.”
“No?” Raid fired back. “Well I’ve been waitin’ for you to pull your finger out and ask me to move to your space, so you makin’ my space, which is shit space, more livable and spendin’ money until you got no more tells me you don’t intend to ask me to move into your space.”
My fingers curled deeper into the vinyl of the chair.
Raiden kept talking.
“We’re young, we got time and we haven’t talked about this, but here it is. I want three sons. My Dad was a massive dick and I want to erase that memory by havin’ boys and givin’ them what I never got. I also love my sister and always wished I had another one, or a brother, so my boys are gonna have a lot of siblings. The way you’re settled in that house, babe, you’re not leavin’ it, and I don’t want you to. It’s you. It’s the perfect place to build a family. Now, my question, in what I hope is normal people speak, is are you tellin’ me with this shit we’re gonna dick around, or are we gonna get on with it?”
Was he serious?
“Get on with… get on with making babies?” I pushed out.
“No, babe,” he bit out, impatient. “Get on with us so we can eventually get on with makin’ babies.”
“I… uh, you… um, don’t really go slow, Raid, but this is a bigger leap than most,” I told him. “Normal couples discuss this stuff.”
“Clue in, Hanna. I am not normal, neither do I ever f**kin’ wanna be.”
“I think I got that,” I said softly.
“But you’re right. Couples discuss this stuff. And I’ll point out, we’re standing here discussing it.”
He was sort of right.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“So we dickin’ around or what?” he asked.
I ignored my heart hammering and asked, “Breaking all that down, are you saying you want to move in with me?”
“Uh… yeah, Hanna. I decided to have a home again, and after I spend time dealin’ with scum, I wanna come home. Home to a house with a porch swing where I can wash that scum down the drain and climb into bed with a woman who puts an outrageously fat cat in her ludicrous basket on her ridiculous bike. My woman.”
“My bike isn’t ridiculous,” I protested.
“Babe,” he leaned in, “it is.”
I ignored that, too, and semi-repeated, “You want to move in?”
His brows snapped together. “Are you sleepwalking?”
I stared at him.
Raiden scowled at me.
Then I let go of the chair, ran across the room and jumped into his arms.
Again he caught me, but this time he had to plant a foot behind him so we both didn’t go down.
I didn’t care.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, but I placed my hands at the sides of his head and looked down at him.
“They were on sale so no returns, thus the hunters get to enjoy the rugs, but that cupboard will kill in my kitchen,” I declared and the surprise in his face cleared, it warmed and he immediately started walking.
Toward the bed.
“I take it I just got myself a porch swing,” he remarked.
“You so totally got yourself a porch swing,” I replied.
We went down on his mattress, me on my back, Raid on a knee then on me.
“Shame not to break in these sheets,” he muttered.
“Upon your return, that was on the top of my to-do list, after introducing you to your new abode, which kind of went sideways in a happy way, so now we can tick that off and move on,” I returned, and he grinned.
His grin faded and he announced, “That afghan on your bed is gorgeous, honey, but we’re switchin’ it out with mine.”
I loved that.
I trailed my hands up the material of his tee at his back. “Works for me.”
“Am I gonna traumatize the fat cat if he sees me f**kin’ you?”
“As you know, his name is Spot, and he’s immune to trauma. You can’t feel it if your life is devoted to dishing it out.”
Raiden grinned again, then, finally, he shut up, bent his head and kissed me.
Two hours later he left me in his bed and took Spot back to Grams in his Jeep.
Upon return, he reported Spot nearly broke his neck by draping himself on it while Raid drove.
I snuggled into his big body, giggling and wishing I’d seen that.