“You want some coffee?” I ask Monroe as I pour myself a cup and lean back against the counter, watching her through the smoke coming from my piping hot mug. I can see she has a green juice sitting on the kitchen island in front of her, but it doesn't look like it’s been touched.
Did I mention the glare she’s shooting my way might be because, for the third time this week, I’m walking around my house shirtless? Another rule she wanted to set in stone, but I wasn’t having it.
Monroe’s lack of response says it all. For some inexplicable reason, I want to push her to give me some snarky retort. I love it when she’s all fired up and shooting off at me, telling me what an idiot I am or how she hates me.
The dynamics of our relationship have certainly changed. The woman who never batted an eyelash my way now loves to remind me how much she loathes me and the predicament we’re in. It's been a fun couple of days trying to settle into the routine of living together, but this will be the first week I’ll be homeevery day. I took a few days off work to make sure the house is ready for the birth of our baby. Even though we’re still months away, I want to be prepared and show Monroe that I’m all in. I know she still doubts me. Hell, I still doubt myself, but I can get used to sitting across from her every morning, especially if she’s dressed like that.
There should be nothing sexy about the red, white and pink plaid pajama pants she’s wearing or the simple white tank. It’s the way the top fits snug along her torso and around her perky breasts that tease me with taut, hard nipples poking through the fabric. Yup, no bra. I can definitely get used to that. Especially with the way I can tell they’ve already started getting bigger.
“You know, Jase,” Monroe says, taking a sip of her green juice, then making a face like she absolutely hates it. Her blue eyes are almost the exact color of the sky in the gleam of sunlight coming in through the large floor to ceiling windows in the dining room across from us. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped ogling me like I’m some piece of meat. It’s not cute.”
The hint of pink on her cheeks says otherwise. Her chocolate brown hair is a mess of waves on her head, her face free of any makeup, still she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Lightly tanned skin, paler now in the winter months than the pretty golden color it turns in the Carolina heat. The thin features of her face make her delicate appearance seem almost doll-like, but it’s the light freckling along the bridge of her nose that has me mesmerized.
I really hope our baby gets those freckles. Actually, I'd much rather the baby looked exactly like her.
“Come on, babe,” I say, like what she’s asking is preposterous, and also trying to shake off the urge I have to walk over to her, lean forward and kiss her. “I’m only human, and you're freaking gorgeous. Even first thing in the morning with no makeup on and with your hair a mess on your head.You’re wearing the least sexy pair of pajamas and still you look incredible.”
Her eyes narrow in on me, the flush deepening and spreading along her chest, though instead of being grateful for the compliment, she’s fuming.
“I knew this wasn't going to work,” she mutters under her breath, more to herself than to me. She rolls her eyes and looks away.
After much deliberation, and refusal on her part until I wore her down, Monroe finally agreed to move into my home on my family ranch. I had to pinch myself to make sure it was real. I knew she’d fight me on it. Especially the first time I suggested it after finding out she was pregnant and practically demanded we’d get married. Then again, when I aired our business out in the middle of a crowded town square. I knew the harvest festival wasn’t the best place to confront her about the pregnancy, after her adamant refusal to answer my text messages, but I was so incredibly frustrated with her avoiding and ignoring me, I wasn’t thinking.
Shit backfired when her brother Nash caught us arguing and overheard me telling Monroe I wanted to be there for her and our baby. Bottom line, shit hit the fan after that. I said some things I didn’t mean and regretted, making what happened between Monroe and me seem like nothing more than a dirty fuck, but I was surprised and not prepared to have to defend our decision to sleep together, regardless of it being a onetime occurrence.
I spent an entire week wearing her down, assuring her I wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, even if she didn’t want any sort of relationship with me. We’d be a modern family, co-parents who didn’t have sex, at least unless she wanted to, but lived together to ensure our baby had the best life they couldhave. Even if it meant living on my family ranch. A family I barely spoke to nowadays.
“I think this is going wonderfully,” I admit, and it’s not too far from the truth. I’m quite enjoying having Monroe here. It’s going to take a lot of restraint on my part to keep this relationship platonic and not try to make a move on her every chance I get, but I’m excited about what the future will bring.
She lets out a long, slow breath, almost as if she’s resigned that this is a failure. “I don’t want to talk about this, Jase,” she says flatly, unwilling to look me in the eye as I lean forward, my elbows resting on the island across from her.
“Babe,” I say, chuckling slightly at the look she gives me when I do.
“Please don't call me that.” I can hear the tension in her voice, so I choose not to push her on this.
“Okay, Moonshine,” I say instead, still causing her to roll her eyes. Apparently, that also wasn’t the right choice, but I don’t focus too much on it. I swear I see her lip pull up slightly on one side before her mouth forms a firm line. With my thumb and forefinger under her chin, I force her to look my way. “I’m not here to argue with you or pressure you into anything you are not ready for. I’m here because I don’t want us to spend the next six months ignoring and avoiding each other like we haven’t known one another our whole lives. I want to step up and be the man you need me to be. The man this baby deserves.”
I want to be the man she deserves, but I know this isn’t the right moment to make that admission. Monroe’s not ready to hear it, and I’m not one hundred percent sure I understand what being that man entails.
Her blue eyes flutter in surprise. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised too, but it’s the truth.
I never gave much thought to what my future would hold. After Indy, I didn’t see myself getting married or starting afamily. I’m sure at some point in our relationship I probably considered it, but it clearly wasn’t something that would ever happen now.
When I found out Monroe was pregnant with my baby, I never once felt trapped. There was a sense of pride that I was having a child, an urge to protect both her and the baby with my life. They were my family, and given the challenges I’ve faced with my parents and knowing the struggles Monroe’s gone through, not being a part of this wasn’t even an option. I knew I wanted to be in this baby’s life regardless of the obstacles I had to overcome in dealing with her brothers and my folks. The only reason my mother hasn’t completely disowned me for getting someone pregnant and living in sin is because she’s been aching to have her first grandchild.
Though my parents are the last people I can go to for support right now.
Monroe blinks wildly as she tries to come to grips with the response I gave her. It’s adorable, the way her gaze flicks from me, down to my bare chest, a light pink flush creeping up her neck. My baby mama is fucking gorgeous, and she would hate it if she knew I still called her that in my head.
I let my fingers wander around and tenderly trace the patch of freckles along the edge of her left eye. “I know you are having a hard time believing I’m in this for real, Monroe. But I can assure you I am. I want to be here for the baby—for you.”
In an instant, she pulls away from me. “This isn’t going to go anywhere, you know that, right?” I’m a little thrown off by her question, unsure of exactly what she means. “I’m not expecting anything from you.”
I stop her before she can continue, instinctively reaching for her, though when I see her pull away, I drop my hand, shoving it in the pocket of my sweatpants. “You won’t be doing this alone, Monroe. This is my kid. You are the mother of my child, and thatmeans that you are the single most important person in my life right now.”
She hesitates for a moment, my confession catching her off guard, but she’s quick to compose herself, not giving too much away about how this makes her feel. Monroe is well trained in dealing with high-intensity and emotional situations. The woman lost her father just over a month ago, and I haven’t seen her cry since the day of his funeral. Even then, she barely shed a tear. Mind you, he was a bastard who deserved none of her compassion, but I knew it affected her. She’s just too tough to let it show.
Monroe crosses her arms across her chest, pushing up the already sexy as hell cleavage showing in the white tank.
