Best. Night. Ever.
“Morning, sunshine,” Caleb says, his breath stirring my hair. It’s his arm and leg I feel on me—he had me in a possessive hold even in his sleep.
“Morning, grumpy,” I reply with a giggle.
On cue, Caleb grumbles and pulls me in closer.
“You’re an insolent brat,” he says fondly. “But I know just how to punish you.”
I squirm against the morning erection poking into my side, but that’s when I notice the time on my Garfield alarm clock.
“Oh, shit!” I hiss, scrambling to get out from under his heavy limbs. “I promised Mor I’d go with her to her doctor’s appointment, remember?” I sit on the edge of the bed and shove my hair out of my face. “Damien’s stuck at work since people are out with the flu.”
I glance behind me to see him run his palm over his face. “Fine. But your mouth has an appointment with my dick later.”
I squeeze my thighs together and chew on my bottom lip. No, I can’t be late. Morgan already said she wants me to be the baby’s godmother—I have to show her I’m responsible. Doing the horizontal tango with my bodyguard while she waits for me isnotbeing responsible.
“You’re so crude,” I say instead of voicing my thoughts, but I can’t keep the satisfied smile out of my voice.
Caleb, naturally, sees my grin and winks at me. “Shouldn’t tangle with the help if you don’t want crude, darling.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, then throw my pillow at him as I get up. “You’re not the help. And you already told Greg you’re my boyfriend anyway.”
I look around to see my clothes scattered all over my room and shrug. I need a shower anyway; they’d just be on for twenty seconds.
Caleb growls as I walk away, then raises his voice to shout after me: “Don’t boyfriends get to shower with their girlfriends? Wait for me.”
I smile to myself and close the bathroom door firmly, locking it with an audible click. I can’t wait for my punishment.
∞∞∞
Morgan is already waiting for me in the hospital lobby, pacing in front of the information desk like she’s about to be called in for an audition instead of a prenatal checkup.
“You’re late,” she says the second she spots me.
“I’m not late,” I argue automatically. “I’m fashionably?—”
“You’re late,” she repeats, pointing at her watch. “And if my blood pressure is high, I’m blaming you.”
I grin and pull her into a hug. “Relax. Your baby can sense stress, and we don’t want them coming out judgmental.”
She snorts despite herself, looping her arm through mine as we head toward the OB-GYN wing. “Says the woman with a full-time bodyguard.”
I glance over my shoulder. Caleb is a few paces back, sunglasses on, jaw tight, scanning the lobby like it personally offended him. Teddy lingers near the entrance, pretending to scroll on his phone while absolutely not pretending to be alert.
“He’s not a bodyguard,” I say lightly. “He’s a lifestyle choice.”
Morgan’s mouth twitches. “Uh-huh. Does this lifestyle choice also come with benefits? You have an extra pep in your step today.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “You’re disgusting.”
“Answer the question.”
Before I can retaliate, a door opens, and a nurse steps out, clipboard tucked under her arm.
“Morgan Cole?”
“That’s me,” Morgan says, squaring her shoulders. Then she pauses, looks at me, and adds, “You’re coming with me.”
