She answered the video call with a tired smile.I glanced at the clock: just after eleven here, which meant it was 9:30 on Saturday morning there.The ten-hour-and-thirty-minute time change would take me a while to get right.
“How are you?”I asked.
“Fine.Tired.Pregnancy’s been hitting me hard.”
“I’m impressed that you’re awake so bright and early this morning,” I teased, hoping to lighten the heaviness between us the way I had that first night we met.
She blushed.“Yeah, I just got up.You’d think I was the one who’d traveled a full day.”
“I’d think you’re the one growing our daughter,” I replied.“Thank you for doing such a good job with her, Millie.”
Her breath caught, and her eyes went soft.She was so much more open now that I was on the other side of the world.Best I could work out, the distance between us made Millie feel safe.There was no hint now of the closed-off, abrupt dismissal she’d dished after he doctor’s appointment.Based on what Ida Jane had said, I was pretty sure someone close to Millie had hurt her.I didn’t want to be right, but that would explain why Millie was so determined to remain far, far from home.
Ida Jane had also told me Millie was a black belt in jiu jitsu.That dedication to martial arts and my growing hypothesis would explain the starburst patterns on her knuckles, which I’d also seen on a lot of boxers and MMA fighters who hit punching bags repeatedly.
“I was thinking about names,” she said, pulling me from my reverie.
This woman had so many layers.Peeling each one aside to get to her heart might prove more daunting than any task I’d ever completed—including getting the call to professional hockey.
“Great!I want to hear them.Is there one you love?”Please don’t pick one I hate.I wanted to give Millie everything I could, but I drew the line at a terrible name.
She licked her lips.“Bree, short for Briana.I want to call her Bree.”
“Bree…” I rolled it over my tongue a few times, then my mind.“That’s pretty.”
Her shoulders dropped and her smile grew.“Great!Now, tell me about your day.When did you get back?Did you make it for practice?”
I tossedthe eighth grapefruit into the bowl on my counter after giving it a good huff.It smelled like Millie...sort of.I’d dreamed, again, about the night we’d spent together.
“It drives me wild,” I’d groaned into her neck, nuzzling against her to release more of the fragrance.Just like I had that night.
I’d relived it in my dreams so often that I could recite every detail.
“My shampoo?”she’d asked, sounding shocked.
“Yeah.I love it.”
“Um...grapefruit.”
“Mmm...”
I’d dropped tiny kisses along her hairline and down her cheek until I’d hovered over her mouth.Her pupils were blown wide with desire, and she’d clutched at my biceps, shifting against my hardening cock.How many times had we gone at it?I didn’t know—didn’t care because it wasn’t enough.I’d had a sinking feeling I’d never get enough of Millie Jones.
“That’s not it, though.There’s a flower...”
“M-m-my lotion,” she’d moaned into my mouth.
I’d kissed her with a languidness that spoke of the initial hunger quenched, but continued need.This had been unexpected.Beautiful.Just like the woman who’d kissed me back with abandon.
“What is it, pretty girl?What’s the smell I want to bury myself in?”
“L-lilac?”
“Fuck, it’s delicious.Like you.”
I sighed, the memory fizzling as someone—probably Cruz—knocked on my door.The dude had been checking up on me even more now that he knew about Millie and the baby.
That could also be because I’d poured my heart out a couple of nights ago, admitting how much I cared about Millie, how deeply I wanted to be an integral part of my kid’s life, how much I knew that mattered because my parents hadn’t provided it for me.
