Teddy

STEAM RISES FROM THE PAN AS I brown a pound of burger in Jensen's apartment. The dog scampers around me, occasionally pausing at my feet to beg for scraps. When Jensen isn't looking, I toss a few crumbles of beef onto the ground, Scout immediately pouncing on it.

"Saw that," Jensen grumbles from his perch at the counter. He's sorting through a neglected pile of mail, ripping through envelopes only to toss the contents onto the growing discard pile.

The whole scene feels so domestic. Familiar. Comforting. Our new routine is quickly becoming engrained into the fiber of my being, and I want to hang onto it forever. Playing house with this man feels more and more real every day, less emphasis on the play and more on the reality.

Is this what a life with Jensen would be like? A series of ordinary moments made extraordinary by the man I would get to share them with.

Just to test Jensen, I throw another chunk of meat on the floor. Scout doesn't miss a beat and eats it up with a greedy gobble.

"Saw that, too." This time he looks up wearing his customary grumpy expression. "You spoil that damn dog. Is this how it would be with our kids? You spoiling and me scolding?"

The mention of kids sends a rush through my body, and I suck in a breath. I try to disguise the reaction by turning back to the stove, giving the meat way more attention than is required.

When I feel the warmth of his body behind me, I try to still my racing heart.

"Teddy," he whispers roughly into my ear. He takes the wooden spoon from my hand, setting it aside, and turns me to face him. "What was that? What just happened?"

"Uhhh," I stall, trying to unscramble my thoughts enough to formulate a sentence.

"Was it the mention of kids that rattled you or is it something else?" He studies me as if he can pluck the thoughts straight from my brain. "You want kids, right, Teddy?"

Heat flushes my cheeks and I bury my face in his chest to hide my embarrassment. It's not that I don't want kids. I've always seen myself as a mom. But when I pictured it, I was always the mom to Jensen's kids; and since these daydreams felt so taboo and forbidden, I'd shove them down in the recesses of my mind where I'd keep them locked in a box alongside my true feelings for the man.

Bringing them out in the light of day still feels wrong somehow, and I'm embarrassed to admit this out loud.

Jensen engulfs me in a hug, and I snuggle into his warm body, greedily accepting the comfort he's offering. Rubbing a hand up and down my back, he waits patiently for me, not prodding or poking me to divulge until I'm ready.

"Yes, Jensen," I finally answer, my voice muffled into his chest. "Of course, I want kids."

Instead of responding, he removes the hair band from the end of my braid and unravels the strands from the bottom, working his way up. This has become part of our nightly routine. At some point, he'll free my hair, bury his nose into the strands and inhale like he's getting a fix he's been starving for.

Finally, his hands settle around my neck, his thumbs pressing under my chin to lift my face up to his. The way he looks at me has my heart galloping in my chest. Gone is the grumpy façade, replaced by a warmth I'm growing used to seeing from him. Concern dances in his eyes as he peers down at me.

"Care to share what happened just now?" His thumbs caress my heated cheeks.

I circle my hands around his wrists and blow out a steadying breath. "Not really. It's embarrassing."

He doesn't allow me to break free of his firm grip on my face. Instead, he huffs, "Tough. Do it anyway. We don't hide from each other."

He seems to think better of his harsh tone and skims a thumb across my bottom lip before leaning down and lightly kissing me. "Not anymore anyway. We did that enough in the past, Teddy. It never got us anywhere."

He presses another kiss on my mouth, this one harder. He licks across the seam, but before I can accept the invitation to open, he withdraws, thumbing the moisture away. "So, please, baby. Just tell me, ok?"

I sigh and nod my acquiescence. "Fine, ok, you're right."

This time when I attempt to free myself, he allows it. I nudge him aside to remove the pan off the burner and turn the stove off. I open the oven door and peer in before closing it and facing Jensen, all stalling tactics completed.

I sigh again, and I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. "Whenever I thought about having kids in the past, I'd always picture you as the dad. It wasn't like it was a conscious thought. I wasn't writing Jensen plus Teddy with hearts all over my notebooks or anything. It's just that thoughts of motherhood seemed to always conjure pictures of you and me and our imaginary kids."

"Baby," he says in a quiet voice, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile he seems to be fighting. "Why is that embarrassing?"

"Duh, Jensen!" I throw my arms out in exasperation. "It was you! I wasn't supposed to be having thoughts like that about you."

The smile apparently wins the war because his face is alight with a grin from ear to ear. Pink tinges his cheeks and it's his turn to hide. He ducks his head and scrubs a hand across his face.

I invade his space like he always does mine and I yank his hand behind his back.

"I thought we didn't hide from each other, Jensen." My tone is teasing, but my eyes search his face for an explanation of his behavior. I can't decipher if he's trying to hide his amusement at my expense or his own embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Teddy. It's just that I really want to whoop like a little fucking girl right now, but I don't want to piss you off." He frees his hand and pulls me to him, our bodies flush against each other. "Baby," he whispers, locking eyes with me, "you just made me really fucking happy."

My breath hitches. "I did?"

He rests his forehead against mine. "Fuck yeah you did."

I can feel his racing heart against my chest. I place my hand over it. "I need more words, baby. I'm trying to catch up."

"You. Me. Kids. What other words are needed?" He kisses my forehead and then my cheek and then my lips, lingering there. We share air for a few breaths before he backs away.

"I've never really allowed myself to think of you in any real sense, Teddy," he explains in a quiet voice. "Your tits? Yes, absolutely. But not about us, like us being together. If I had, I sure as shit would have thought about you being the mother of my children. And now that thought is cemented in my head and I'm not going to be able to shake it out. If we weren't going slow, I just might put a baby in you right now, that's how much I love the idea of it."

"Whoa, pump the brakes, big guy," I say with a laugh. "We have a lot of ground to make up before we start the baby-making kind of sex."

He scrunches his forehead. "Uh, pretty sure all sex is the baby-making kind, Teddy."

"No, Jensen," I disagree. "You owe me lots and lots of hot, dirty sex that has nothing to do with the science of your little swimmers invading my eggs. There will be no baby-making sex until much later. Much, much later. I'm talking lots and lots of fucking. Then we'll someday discuss the baby-making kind of sex. Yeah?"

In response, he thrusts his pelvis into me, the bulge in his pants speaking louder than any words. "Yeah, baby. I can get on board with the lots and lots of fucking plan."

When I raise my eyebrow skeptically, he grunts out a laugh and amends his statement, "I mean, once we're no longer taking things slow, of course."

I push him aside and shove my hand in an oven mitt, swatting his butt with it. "At this rate, my baby-making organs will be geriatric. Might want to speed up the timeline, big guy."

I open the oven door to retrieve the pan of tater tots. I blow on one and then pop it into my mouth. Jensen tries to steal a tater tot and I slap him away, but he restrains me with one hand while snagging a tot with the other. He shoves it into his mouth and backs away quickly.

"What are you making anyway, woman? Is it almost done? I'm starved."

"Tater tot hotdish. Obviously."

I dump the browned burger into a casserole dish, scoop out cream of mushroom soup from a can, pour in some frozen mixed veggies and stir the mixture together. After sprinkling on some shredded cheese, I top it off with the crispy potato rounds.

"But you cooked the tots already. That's now how you're supposed to make it."

I point the spatula at him. "Actually, that's the secret to a perfect tater tot hotdish. If you just place frozen tater tots on top, it not only takes forever to cook, but the tots never crisp up. No one wants a mushy tot, J. Cook the tots first. I promise, it's a game changer."

I slide the casserole dish into the oven and set the timer for 30 minutes. "You can thank me later."