“It might be a while until her apartment is livable again,” Vance chimed in. “Fire restoration can take weeks or even months. You might already be gone by the time she can move back in. It’s probably best if she stays with us.”
Donovan glared at Vance, clearly pissed at him for butting in. “My lease isn’t up for another seven months. She can stay as long as she needs to. I can renew the lease if necessary,” he said with finality. If I wasn’t already pregnant, my ovaries would have exploded and probably released every egg I had left. He had that whole growly, alphahole vibe going on as he went toe to toe with my brother-in-law, and I was here for it.
Vance turned to face me. “Is that okay with you?” I nodded, still unable to form words. “Fine,” he huffed, “but if for some reason that living arrangement doesn’t work out, our door is always open.” I could practically hear Donovan’s teeth grinding in response.
In all fairness, we still hadn’t discussed what happens when he leaves. We were both still coming to terms with becoming parents, and there was a lot up in the air regarding co-parenting, living arrangements, etc. It wasn’t unreasonable for Vance to worry about where I would go once Donovan was gone if my apartment wasn’t ready.
“Thank you,” I said, ignoring the man seething beside me as I bid them goodbye.
The nurse popped in with my discharge paperwork. After I signed on the dotted line, Donovan handed me my boots androbe. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me out the door.
“Let’s get you home.”
Home.
I tried to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that word gave me because I knew it was only temporary.
25
DONOVAN
Imessed up.
When I offered—more like demanded—for Emily to stay with me, I completely forgot that I only had one bedroom. The other was currently being used as my home office. So now I had all of my six foot, three inches crammed into the couch in my living room. It wasn’t a big, oversized sectional either. Nor had I sprung for one with the pull-out bed. No, it was one of those small sofas made for apartment living, and I had to sleep with my knees tucked practically to my chest. But I’d take that over Emily sleeping out here, which was what she'd proposed. There was no way I’d let the mother of my child sleep on a couch when there was a perfectly good bed available.
When I told her as much, her eyes flared with heat and her lids lowered in a sultry expression. It had been happening more and more lately. Every time I let my protective instincts roar to life or did something to ensure her comfort, she gave me that look. It made me want to tie her to my bed and make her scream my name until her voice was hoarse.
And wasn’t that just the crux of our situation? I wanted to make her mine in every way, but I couldn’t figure out a way to have her and still get what I wanted. I’d have to settle for raisinga child with her, though I still wasn’t sure how we would make it work. But I was determined to be a good dad, a present dad. If that meant flying back and forth a couple times a month or spending every vacation I had here, I would do it. Even if I had to keep a house here or stay with Emily knowing she would never fully be mine, I’d do it.
A sickening feeling hit me square in the gut, a possibility I hadn’t considered. What if she met someone and fell in love? What if I had to watch another man get to have the home and family with her that I couldn’t, to be the full-time father figure I should be?
“Fuck,” I gritted out, swinging my legs off the side of the couch and sitting up. I buried my face in my hands and shook my head. What was I going to do? Dragging a hand down my face, I froze when I heard it. A strangled groan came from down the hall. I stood, instantly on alert. It was quiet for a moment before a pitiful whimper sounded from the direction of my bedroom.
I rushed to my bedroom with nothing but the moonlight streaming in through the windows to light my way. Emily was in pain, and I needed to get to her fast. I stepped into the room and went to her bedside, clicking on the lamp. To my surprise, her eyes were closed. She was still asleep, but she writhed restlessly on the bed.
“Emily,” I said softly, trying not to scare her. Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t wake. Sinking down onto the bed next to her, I gently placed a hand on her shoulder and repeated her name. She let out a soft moan, and I noticed for the first time her skin was flushed. Either she was sick or?—
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. “Donovan,” she breathed, and the sound had my dick stirring to life. She glanced around the room and sat up, the blanket slipping from her chest and pooling at her waist. Before I could stop myself, my gaze fell to her breasts, the thin cami she wore doing little to hide the wayher nipples drew into tight peaks. I licked my lips, remembering how they tasted.
I cleared my throat and asked, “Are-are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answered quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were moaning in pain. I thought something was wrong.”
She glanced away sheepishly, the blush spreading from her cheeks down to her chest.
“I wasn’t moaning because I was in pain,” she admitted, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I was mesmerized by the sight. I wanted to free that lip and put it to better use.
“Why were you moaning then?” I asked, my voice low and husky.
“It’s the pregnancy hormones. I’ve been having these dreams,” she began, then hesitated.
“What kind of dreams?” I prompted.
“The kind where I don’t have to take care of my needs all by myself,” she admitted, dragging her gaze back to mine. The gold flecks in those hazel eyes burned with desire, and all the blood rushed to my cock as I finally grasped her meaning. “I have some help,” she added, her focus dropping to my mouth.
“Who?” I implored, needing to hear her say it.
