Ranger Ben (A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance) - Page 43

“You know I do,” Ben murmurs, taking a breath to say something else, but thinking better of it.

“And you haven’t quit your job either, have you?” I ask, looking up at him again, glad when he shakes his head.

“Not exactly,” he responds after a moment. “But I do have some long service leave I’m gonna use. Maybe a few months’ worth,” he says casually.

“A few months? Gosh, what will you do all day?” I ask, resting easier against him, hoping I already know the answer to that.

“I think you know exactly what I intend to do,” he chuckles softly.

“A whole lot of whatever the hell we both feel like, plus fixing up the kitchen,” he adds on a side note, making me cringe inwardly.

“Am I really banned from the kitchen?” I ask, feeling him squeeze me tighter as he chuckles again.

“Yep. Not even to make yourself a sandwich or get a glass of water. Everything like that is up to me, plus it’ll be a bit of a construction site in there.”

“Sorry. For everything,” I murmur, feeling bad about it all still. Like it’s all my fault.

“You did nothing wrong, Stacey,” Ben assures me, comforting me with his hands as well as his words.

“Everything turned out for the best, and we got through it, didn’t we?” he asks as I feel my head nodding.

“Now, you can tell me everything you want to do. I still haven’t even heard about what you studied in college, or what plans you have for your future,” he adds, easing himself back on the pillows and waiting for me to talk all about myself.

Something he knows I’ve never been very good at.

“Well… Although I majored in law, I’ve actually only ever really wanted to look after animals.” I end up telling him after thinking about what I really want.

“Animals?” he asks, looking almost disappointed.

“Why not?” I ask, figuring he’d share my enthusiasm. “I mean, why’d you want to become a ranger? Must’ve been something to do with wanting to help and preserve animals, right?” I ask.

He agrees, but I can tell he’s fishing for something else.

My own instincts telling me he wants to hear about my interest in little, two-legged animals instead.

The kind that mommies and daddies make.

Maybe it’s the age thing, me being so young. But I’ve never really seen myself with a baby.

Unless they all looked like Ben.

The thought makes me gasp.

He asks me what’s wrong, but I start to think about it, purring and humming to myself.

A whole house full of little Ben’s staring back at me all day every day. I think I could handle that.

“Raising and looking after animals is hard work though,” I reason aloud.

“We’d need plenty of help,” I add.

“We?” Ben asks, almost snorting until he cottons on. “You mean, like little helpers?”

“Exactly,” I beam. “Little helpers.”

“Tell me more,” Ben asks, turning to face me, propping his head up with one hand as he suddenly becomes interested.

“What about your though?” I counter. “What use would you have for little helpers or even animals about the place?” I wonder aloud.

“Oh, those parks and wildlife people. Always crying out for helpers,” he adds with a grin, leaning over to kiss my nose.

“No rush though?” I half ask, half explain. “I mean, we’d have to see exactly just how many helpers we’d need, right? And they couldn’t just come from nowhere?”

“Exactly,” Ben agrees, seeming to look more content before he kisses me again, wishing me goodnight.

“No rush,” he says again, a smile on his face as I lean over to turn out the light telling me everything, his huge hand resting on my belly.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispers, kissing me softly and leaving me to wonder exactly who he’s talking to.

“G’night,” I echo back.

“Goodnight.”

Epilogue

Three Months Later

Stacey

“I’ll be right out,” I call to Ben. I can hear him starting his truck which means he’ll be waiting.

I know he doesn’t mind waiting, but it’s a long drive to town and our weekly trip for supplies takes up most of the day there and coming back.

And I know Ben has things he wants to finish, like the kitchen.

And his secret room.

Well. Not really a secret, but the room next to ours he won’t let me go in, even when he’s not working on it. Not to mention all that time he spends in the basement

“It’s a surprise,” he tells me every time I ask. I will be the first to see it once it's done with his only condition being letting him work there without me snooping, I just have to wait it out now.

Something I’m doing right now, willing the damned two-minute pregnancy test to tell me one way or the other if I’m going crazy here or if I might actually be—

Holy shit.

The little blue plus sign flashes to life.

Holy fucking shit.

I shouldn’t really be surprised. I mean, three pant sizes in three months?

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