I nodded.Right.No caffeine.Cruz had mentioned that.I glanced at my bag, which held a list of pregnancy books I wanted to read.Problem was, I hated reading.The words swirled around, dancing, making it hard to concentrate.
Cruz knew about my dyslexia, so that fucker had bought me a pile of picture books—for younger siblings—that explained the changes happening inside a mom’s body.
I’d never admit it, but I’d pored over those books, memorizing most of the images.
“Sounds great.Can I make you breakfast?”I asked.
She nodded.“I’ll make it.You good with fruit and yogurt?”
In a smoothie that typically went along with a couple of eggs and toast, yes.But I nodded instead, because if Millie wanted to make me something to eat, I was going to enjoy it.
We arrived a few minutes early to the appointment, where Dr.de Silva measured Millie’s belly and I once again heard Bree’s heartbeat.That sound never got old.
“And it won’t be a problem for Millie to fly to the States in a few weeks?”
“When are you planning to travel?”Dr.de Silva asked.
“In about a month,” Millie said.
She studied the chart.“I should see you a couple of days before you depart to make sure you’re healthy enough to do so, but right now I don’t foresee any complications.You should still be good, timing wise.”
I’d learned my lesson, so I didn’t ask to join Millie at work when the appointment was over.Instead I contented myself with walking her to the building and kissing her cheek goodbye in the air-conditioned cool of the lobby.
That morning set up a routine we followed for the following couple of weeks: Millie and I had breakfast before she spent the days at her office and I poked around the city and came up with dinners for us to share, as well as indulging in the hours-long secret I kept from her.
After I nearly fell off the couch multiple times the second night, cursing and wincing, I took to napping in Millie’s bed while she was gone, desperate for a few hours of decent shut-eye.At night, between attempts at poor sleep on the couch, I listened to an audiobook I’d found on raising an infant—much better for me than trying to power through the printed version—and that kept me awake for even more hours.
“They shithowoften?”I whispered into the dark one night.
With a shudder at the idea of wiping up bodily fluids—not something I handled well, truth be told—I turned off the book and took out my headphones, pushing my heels into the end of the couch, as if that would stretch the fucker out long enough for me to lie on it with ease.I seriously considered buying a bigger couch, but Millie had commented on how comfortable this one was when she’d settled onto it earlier, so I couldn’t do it.
Instead, the next day I stumbled into her bedroom after my early lunch at a small dumpling shop down the street from her place.My head hit her pillow, and I inhaled her scent, moaning at the pleasure of stretching out fully…and Millie.Her scent wrapped around me, slithered through my nasal passage and into my blood, causing it to thrum.
I flipped onto my stomach, pushing my hips into the mattress to ease the growing ache in my dick even as my heavy eyes slid shut.I woke four and a half hours later, refreshed and giddy that Millie would be home in an hour.I made her bed carefully and exited her room—after I squeezed her pillow to my chest and inhaled that citrusy scent one last time.
Millie had been tightlippedabout the upcoming second wedding between Ida Jane and Maxim since the video call right after I got here.It had taken me weeks to tease out more details, but I now knew the wedding would be at Cormac’s house, and the CATS had thrown themselves into planning it.
Millie had agreed to attend, so I was escorting her home for a wedding.Just notourwedding.Not that we were ready for marriage, or that I wanted to get married…did I?I wasn’t sure.I just knew I didn’t want to be like my parents, and committing to a partner through marriage had to make it easier for the kid, too.
The realization that Millie would be horrified if I asked her to marry me disappointed me for days.I’d seen that in Cormac and Maxim.They were both grounded in a way that Naese and even Cruz weren’t.
Cool fingers brushed hair off my forehead as I inched out of a deep sleep and into another type of wonderful dream.Millie never balked at me talking to her belly, but since that first night, when I would haveswornshe was flirting with me as she ate that first meatball, she’d been reticent—almost standoffish about me touching her.
But now her hip was next to mine, her body leaning over me, that soft lilac-and-grapefruit scent I loved surrounding me.I wanted this forever.
“Ah, Luka, Iknewyou were too big for the couch,” she murmured.“Are you really one of the good ones?”
This question was so softly spoken, I knew I wasn’t supposed to hear it, let alone answer.It took everything in me not to yell thatyes, I was, in fact, a great one, and she should give me a real chance, not continue to keep me at arm’s length.
“You scare me,” she continued.
Why?Ah, hell…What had I done?
Her fingers danced along my cheekbone before settling on my lips.
“Oh, how you scare me.You make me yearn… You deserve a woman who isn’t afraid to love you.”She ended the sentence with a hitch of her breath.
Thank fuck!I thought I’d actually made her afraid ofme.But no, she was afraid of what I made her feel.That I could work with.I opened my eyes and took her hand in mine.
