“I can’t help it,” he whispered sheepishly.
“Feeling is mutual.” I smiled.
“You have to go.” He leaned down and nipped at my nose gently.
“Party pooper,” I muttered.
He laughed out loud and it rumbled through me. He unwrapped his strong arms from me and rolled away, his erection on display in his gray cotton shorts. My eyes lingered there.
“Stop that.” He wagged a finger playfully. “You need to get ready. I’ll get the shower warmed up for you.”
“Care to join me?” I asked, sitting up in bed, very aware that my growing breasts were pressing against the thin fabric of my pajama top.
Chandler’s eyes darkened slightly before he shook his head.
“I would want nothing more,” he said, his voice low. “Soon.” He stepped into the bathroom and I heard the water begin to run in the shower. Chandler slipped out of the room, leaving me because he probably thought I was going to jump him. I would have. My hormones were crazy, and he was being frustratingly overly cautious.
I pulled the covers off me and strode for the bathroom, finding the glass walls steamy and a freshly washed, and a plush towel folded and set beside it. I smiled. These little things were making me fall even more in love with him.
Love.
I had told him I loved him. I wasinlove with him. I didn’t take those words lightly, and had never used them with anyone else. With Chandler, I just knew.
I took my time in the shower and when I got out, I had little time for much else. I threw my wet hair in a low bun at the nape of my neck and put on a linen button-down dress. It would have to be a make-up free day after a morning spent in bed and a long shower.
Finished, I padded down the hallway and into the large entryway that led into the kitchen where Chandler was waiting with a mug of tea and a small plate of tea biscuits. I tilted my head curiously. He knew I was heading to lunch.
“Baby’s gotta eat,” he said. “It’s a little snack to tide you over, since you skipped breakfast.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling softly. He really did take care of me.
I took a sip of peppermint tea and nibbled on a shortbread cookie.
“Do you want me to drop you off at lunch?” asked Chandler, taking a sip of coffee from a large white mug.
I shook my head. “That’s okay. I’m going to walk.” It was just a few blocks away.
“Are you sure?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“Chandler, I’m okay,” I said, reaching for his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.
He wordlessly nodded and took another sip of coffee.
“You heard the doctor. I’m okay,” I reiterated.
A soft smile spread across his lips as he put his coffee down and put his hands on my hips, pulling me close. I tilted my head up as his thumb stroked my jawline. I leaned into his touch just as he brought his lips to mine in a tender kiss.
“I love you. I just worry.”
“And I love you for it,” I said, touching his cheek.
“You’re going to be late,” he said, glancing at the clock. “If it were anyone else but your father, I would keep you here for more of this.”
He leaned in and kissed me again, his tongue grazing across my lips. I whimpered, wondering if lunch was really all that pressing.
“Go,” said Chandler, as if reading my mind. He turned me toward the doorway to the kitchen and gave my butt a little pat. I laughed out loud and headed out the door to go meet my father.
He was already at the restaurant when I arrived, sipping on an iced tea in a corner booth near the front. He stood up when he saw me, pulling me in for a long, tight hug. I couldn’t remember the last time we had hugged like that.
