You’re not sure if you were like this last time you fell in love (and you’re not going to ask anyone, because it’s the past and you’re trying to leave it there) but god, you don’t remember things ever feeling like this. Yes, you missed Gavin in the early days, missed him like crazy, but it was always tinged with worry. It was no secret that he sometimes hooked up when Bush went on tour back in the days you dated. Looking back, it’s probably fair to say that nothing changed after you married, either. Of course… Shaking your head, you quickly text Kingston back, tell him you’ll definitely Facetime him after dinner.
And then he’s there. He opens the door himself with the key you gave him a few weeks ago, and suddenly you’re crying like a baby and he’s hushing you in between kisses.
“Blake,” you manage to get out between wholly unattractive sobs and shaky smiles. “Blake Shelton, you literally can’t leave me for that long again.”
His arms band around you, and he holds like he never wants to let go. You both stagger over to the couch, legs almost entwined, and fall back onto it. Landing on his lap isn’t something new to you, but you take advantage of it all the same, letting yourself shift forward up his chest so you reach his lips, kiss him until your lips are bruised.
Later that night he joins you in bed. It’s still something you’re getting used to, having a man other Gavin in it, but you’re determined it’s going to work. And be good. Blake nuzzles into your neck, one of his arms coming around you to pull you back against his bare body. “The boys coming back tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you tell him, unable to stop the joy creeping into your voice. “Only two days with their dad this time. Maybe…” You hesitate, not sure if it’s too early, whether you should talk to some other single moms you know who have already introduced their boyfriends to the kids in a serious way. “Maybe you could meet them sometime soon?”
“Well, not meet. I know you’ve seen them on set and said hi. But y’know, meet.Hang out with us properly?”
“As your boyfriend?” he asks, wonder in his voice and his fingers gentle where they caress your face.
“As anything you want.”
“That. I want,” he admits, “all of it.”