Room for More(5)

By: Beth Ehemann

“What about when we have kids?”

I spun to face him, nearly dropping the eggs that were in my hand. “What?”

“Down the road, when there are dozens of little Brodys running around the house, do you want to be home with us?”

“Dozens of little Brodys?” I chuckled.

“Why not?” He grinned.

“Uh, I can think of a few reasons. My poor uterus for one.” I poked him in the chest.

“Okay, fine. Not a dozen, but at least like… six.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “After that, we can just practice—a lot.”

“I’m definitely down for the practicing.” I batted my eyes at him. “And what do you mean at home with us? You’ll be traveling most of the time.”

“Yeah, but not forever. Eventually I’ll retire and do the full-time dad thing.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked my head to the side and looked at him skeptically. “Since when does staying home with kids all day interest you?”

He looked over at the girls, who were watching a movie in the living room, and shrugged. “Since them.”

I grinned at him as my stomach flipped. “You’re too good to be real.”

“Nope, I’m real and I’m all yours.” He reached over and grabbed my T-shirt, pulling me in close to him.

“Until next week,” I pouted dramatically. “Then you have to start practicing every day and we won’t see each other much. Add in games and you’ll forget who I am.”

I was not looking forward to his season starting. My subconscious knew it was coming, but I was purposely not thinking about it. I’d gotten so used to seeing him often over the last couple months, this would definitely be an adjustment.

“It’ll be tough, but we’ll still see each other,” he said, lifting my chin up to face him. “We’ll just have to make an effort to really, uh, make good use of the time we do have together.”

I set the eggs on the island and shoved my hands up the back of his T-shirt, pulling him hard against me. “I like the way that sounds, Murphy.”

“I love when you call me Murphy.” He groaned as he trailed kisses down the side of my neck, stopping at my collarbone.

“Really? I’ll have to remember that,” I cooed.

My glance panned over to the clock. “Holy crap! I gotta hurry.” I rushed over and tossed a pan on the stove.

“Go. I got this.” Brody came over and grabbed the handle of the pan.

I tried to snatch it back from him, but he held it high above his head so I couldn’t reach it.

“Stop.” He laughed. “I admit that I’m better with a hockey stick than I am with a spatula, but I can handle scrambled eggs. Go get ready. You can pay me back later.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down again.

“Deal.” I smiled and started out of the kitchen, but he caught my wrist and pulled me toward him as he bent down to kiss my lips.

I quickly turned my head to the side and covered my mouth, mumbling through my hands, “I haven’t brushed yet.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said, gently pulling my hands away from my mouth. “Pay the toll, stinky.”

“Lucy, are you dipping your popsicle in syrup?”

She grinned at me and nodded, clearly proud of herself.

“Great.” I laughed. “At this rate, you’ll be diabetic by noon. Your mom’s already going to kill me if she finds out I let you have popsicles with your eggs and pancakes.”

“We won’t tell!” Piper grinned, red juice dripping off her chin.

“You guys rock!” I leaned over and high-fived her. “Okay, my little Twinkies, next on the agenda: what do you want to do today?”

“Play Barbies.”

“Watch Sleeping Beauty.”

“Build things with Play-Doh.”

“Play Mario Kart.”

“Can we paint your nails again?”

I got dizzy looking back and forth between the two of them as they spit out more things than were possible to accomplish in one day. “Whoa, whoa.” I held my hands up. “I might need to write this down. Are we taking naps at all? Please?”

“No!” they squealed in unison.