Page 106 of Unbreakable Thread

She tries to get on her tiptoes, but I bend slightly for her. She leaves trails of kisses all over my face, then one on my lips. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I can’t believe this… Thank you.” More kisses on my face that have me laughing. “I love you so much…like you’re getting the best blow job in history.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” I laugh. It brings me happiness to see her smile so bright.

“Are they buried around here? Are they together, my mom and dad, and what about mi abuelita?”

I shut off the water and hand her a warm towel. “They are all buried together and close. Your abuelita was cremated, then buried next to them.”

She sighs, nodding her head. “That’s good.”

“When do you want to go to the cemetery? I’ll take you.”

She stands, wrapped in the towel, her hair dripping. “Not yet…soon.”

“It’s okay…when you are ready. No rush.”

“Thank you, Max…you are the most amazing man. I hope you know that.”

I swallow hard and nod. “You’re welcome. I’d do anything for you, sunshine.”

I have and I always will. Her happiness makes me happy. That’s all I need to feel complete.

“I changed my mind.”

“About?”

“Will do dinner at your place this week. I want you now.”

She giggles when I lift her in my arms and take her to bed.

Chapter 32

Sol

My moods are a mess. One minute I’m wondering if Max ever truly wanted the women before me—I know he didn’t; not like this—and the next I can’t stop thinking about climbing him. It’s beyond crazy. The pregnancy has completely rewired something in me. Max ignites something with every touch, wink, smirk, smile, laugh, kiss, slap to the ass, dirty talk, and even a brush to the shoulder makes me want to hump him. I’m no better than a man at this point. I really wish we had been each other’s first.

At night, I literally sleep with half of my body on him. He must think I’m terrified of him leaving me or that I’m having nightmares that I have to sleep on him. All he does at night is rub slow circles between my shoulder blades with his calloused palm, his breath warm against my ear as he mumbles into the darkness, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

My nightmares of Max have stopped. It could be because he’s eased my mind, and the guilt I had if I let go. Instead, I have more vivid dreams of him running and playing with small children. In them, he’s playing with a small boy and a girl, both around three. As the dreams have become more persistent, I’ve only seen the woman’s back, and it’s clear it’s me. The kids giggle as they run and chase their dad. The children reach for him like he’s the whole sky. It…does something to me. This is what we’ve been reaching toward. Both of us. Without even knowing it. The smile on Max’s face crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He’s shirtless and in jeans that make his ass look good. He hoists the children skyward, their little bodies weightless in his strong grip. His deep voice buzzes with exaggerated engine sounds. “Vrrrrrrroooom!”

The kids’ faces glow pink with delight, their teeth gleaming as they shriek through breathless giggles, “More, Daddy! More!”

The little baby girl shouts, “Mama, did you see me?”

I wake up with my hand on my stomach. The room is dark. Max’s arm is around me. I treasure those dreams. I worry someone will take them away from us. Watching Max as a father in my dreams is so damn hot because he’s going to be amazing. I can’t wait.

This could be why I can’t get enough of him. My mind is constantly thinking about climbing him. Sex on the brain. I’m not sure if all women experience it, but if they do, does it turn me into wanting to strangle him by the third trimester instead of wanting to drink him like fine wine? I don’t even know. My mind is constantly on my man.

I’m running late. I’d told Isabella I’d be there by nine to go over inventory before we opened. The morning had unraveled before it started—a longer conversation with Lana than I’d planned, Daisy deciding the backyard needed investigating, Hector asking me how the coffee maker worked for the third time. Max was out the door early. He had paperwork he needed to catch up on and a meeting at noon.

At the stoplight, I toss my hair into a bun. I didn’t get a chance to style it. I make a left turn toward the café and stop breathing. Above the roofline, a column of black smoke is rising into the pale sky. No…no... please...no. I pull over and get out of the car without turning off the engine. The front windows have gone orange from the inside. My neighbor across the street bursts through her door, her phone already at her ear.

“The fire trucks are on their way,” she tells me, then she swallows. “The owner is here,” she tells them. She looks at me. “Is anyone inside?”

I shake my head frantically. “No.” My body shakes. “Wait…Isabella.” I look around. Her car isn’t here. “I don’t see her car. My employee, Isabella, was supposed to come in after me.”

The front of the café looks intact. Windows are still whole. The smoke and flames are coming from the back of the kitchen and my office.

I was supposed to be there an hour ago. I’m always on time. What if? I shake my head. No…that would be crazy. What if someone started the fire?