Page 133 of Too Far

“In the state of North Carolina, if a married woman becomes pregnant, the paternity of the child defaults to the husband both biologically and legally.” He recites the law from memory.

I don’t bother questioning him. For as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m sure it’s correct.

“You want kids,” he states. “Among the group, I’m sure there is another person who would like to procreate. I do not want to have children.”

My stomach drops at the thought. His declaration was not only surefire, but it comes with many implications.

“Correction.” He clears his throat. “I will tolerate and maybe even like your offspring. I like all of you, so statistically, that is likely. I will also participate in the agreed-upon parenting system when and if the time comes, but I do not want to contribute DNA and make children.”

“I don’t either,” K declares.

I swivel, resting one hand on the table for balance, and take him in. His expression is pensive—low brows, firm jaw—but sure.

“Lupus is genetic. I want babies, but I always assumed I’d adopt.”

How the hell did we go from the promise of strip poker to a full-blown family planning discussion? As my mind whirls, I cast my gaze to the ceiling and blow out a long, steady breath.

“Locke? What’s your stance on kids?” Decker asks.

He glares at Decker—always on my side—then turns to me, the lines on his face smoothing out. “We’ve already talked about this. Joey knows where I stand.”

I offer him a soft nod, confirming. Although when we talked about our future, I thought we were talking about the actual future. Sometime in the very distant future.

The room goes quiet once again as my ego battles with my heart.

I haven’t had a chance to process any of this, to let the ideas simmer or to give myself grace to navigate what comes next.

But there’s an urgency to the energy tonight.

Maybe it’s because the clock is ticking down on our time-out.

Or maybe it’s because thisisthe right call, landing in my lap at exactly the right time. Maybe the universe is nudging me so hard I’d be stupid not to listen.

I bend at the waist, gently drop a kiss to Nicky’s cheek, murmur “I love you,” and walk toward my fate.

Circling the table, I home in on Decker.

His eyes are dark, guarded, as he watches me approach.

“If we do this,” I proclaim. “If I say yes to you, I’m actually saying yes to them.”

He nods his acceptance. I refuse to make this easy for him, though.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll be your wife.” I tamp down the unease rising inside me. “But in name only. Is that really what you want, Cap?”

He watches me, unblinking. Then he glances at each of the guys. “I want to make this right. I played it wrong for too long. If this is how I can fix it, for all of us, then yes, this is what I want.”

“I’m not giving them up.” I raise a brow to emphasize my point. “I’m not changing a single thing to cater to you. I’m not even sure I’ll ever grow to trust you or let you in.”

He swallows and exhales, stoic as ever. “I understand.”

“You’ll have no agency over me. I don’t even want to hear your opinion unless I ask for it. Your influence ended the morning you broke up with me. Getting married doesn’t change that. Is that clear?”

He glares but nods his ascent.

“Tomorrow,” Kylian suggests. “You should do it tomorrow.”

The words are like a sucker punch. Rearing back, I gape at him, suddenly panicked by just how final this is about to be.