When
Maddie told him on the path earlier that she wanted five kids and then tried to
play it off, he knew she wasn't joking. Growing up, she'd always wanted
brothers and sisters. He had too. Being alone in the world was one of the
reasons they clung together even though they fought all the time, like Sam and
Holly. They’d talked about having kids someday, a big family so their kids
would always have each other, always have someone to rely on.
Five
kids. He could see it now. She’d probably end up with five girls, all with that
bushy black hair and fiery blue eyes of hers.
One
of the reasons he fought with guys his age, like the idiots on his baseball
team—ex-baseball team—was because he couldn't relate to their trivial, bullshit
lives. They were all shallow douchebags who probably never had a thought about
spending the rest of their lives with a woman who made them feel whole. A woman
who was home and family and future.
Yeah,
he was young and so were those other guys, but he knew what mattered in life
and what he wanted. He wanted what he didn't have growing up. A home. A family.
He thought he’d have it with Maddie, but something came between them. He had to
know what it was—what to focus his aggression on. What to beat the hell out of
to get her back.
He
bit the side of his cheek until he drew blood to get his head away from
soul-sucking thoughts of Maddie having someone else’s kids.
Holly
brought her rod back and MJ ducked. She swung it forward over her shoulder and
let the line out over the water. "Nice," he told her.
MJ
shaded his eyes with his hand and watched Holly’s bobber land. His gaze found
Maddie, who was lowering herself into a chair across from Rachael at a patio
table under a tan umbrella beside the boathouse. Her dark hair blew out behind
her with a gentle breeze that shook the saw grass on the bank. There were
times, like right then, when he was struck numb by how beautiful she was.
