According toThe Expectant Father, pregnant moms needed folic acid, protein, and iron. He’d already researched and then ordered the most recommended prenatal supplements—no expense spared—and called in a few favors to get the world’s best dietitians and nutritionists on his payroll. His wife and baby would lack for nothing, and he was determined as fuck that Kendra’s pregnancy was smooth, she and the baby were healthy, and that he would meet every need she had without complaint.
He might be cursed to be the world’s worst father, but he refused to not even try to be at least a mediocre father.
Fuck mediocre—you’ll be the best fucking dad this kid will ever need. You aren’t about failure, Gideon Maddox, so get your head out of your ass, pull down your balls, and do what you do best.
Once the food was ready, he texted Kendra, and moments later she shuffled into the kitchen, taking a seat in the breakfast nook where he’d placed the food.
She stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping, at the table.
“You made this?” she asked, disbelief obvious and warranted.
He grinned lopsidedly, both charmed and humored by her surprise.
“Yes.” He took the seat across from her and began filling her plate. “I made sure everything is prepared to American Medical Association guidelines on mother and fetal health—but I hope it is edible, at least. It’s been a while since I stepped into a kitchen to do something other than get a corkscrew and wine glasses.”
Kendra, now staring at him like he’d grown four heads and seventy horns, huffed. “You treat the kitchen like the neutral zone; you come and go but you leave no trace behind.”
This time his grin was from ear to ear. Lord, she was fucking cute.
Taking a bite of the chicken, Kendra blurted, “Whoa, Gideon—this is delicious!”
Warmed by her praise, he dug into his own meal, delighted by what he was able to make, and proud he could feed her, provide for her.
The beast inside him rumbled happily, its chest expanded with pride; their mate and baby were fed.
Now, to get them home.
As they ate, Gideon watched her, devouring her beloved features even as he cleared his plate.
Finally, once she’d swallowed her last forkful, she pinned him with wary eyes.
“There’s something you want to say, so say it,” she said laconically, proving, once again, she was a woman who considered each word before she spoke them, a checkmark on his mental list three years ago of reasons she was perfect as his wife candidate.
“I need to go home—the Winter Gala is in two days, and I have to be there,” he replied.
“And you need me there to complete the Perfect Maddox Family picture,” she quipped, leaning back and crossing her arms.
“I want you there, with me, as my wife, but not to complete some bullshit picture for the media or investors?—”
She grunted, rolling her eyes incredulously.
He wanted to kiss her and shake her at the same time.
“Kendra,” he said, reaching across the small bistro table to grasp her arm and pull it closer so he could take her hand in his.“I want you there because you’re my wife, the best part of me, and I want to share that night with you. No gimmicks, no posing for the cameras, just husband and wife, enjoying a fine evening together….”
She cocked her head thoughtfully, carefully considering his words. And she looked so adorable and delectable, he couldn’t stop himself from drawling, “…and then going home to fuck ourselves into exhaustion.” He deliberately dropped his voice to a growl, and her eyes snapped wide, lust shining bright and deviant on her face.
Gideon shifted in his seat, his cock hard and throbbing in jeans suddenly too tight for where his mind was taking him.
Kendra tugged on her hand, but he held it tight.
“Gideon,” she snapped, “we are nowhere close to that yet.”
The word “yet” sang like angelic music in his mind. He nodded once, his eyes never leaving her face. “I know, baby, but a man can fantasize.”
She snorted. “Yeah, you do that.”
He chuckled, loving that he could just…be. He laughed, he felt things, and he actually let himselfshowthose feelings.
