Текст книги "Easy Charm"

Автор книги: Kristen Proby

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

~Gabby~

“Gabby, I heard you hired some help,” Mama says as she stirs the red beans and rice on her stovetop. We’re all at her house for a Sunday dinner, as usual.

“About six weeks ago, yes,” I reply and smile as Rhys leans down to kiss me on his way to help set the table. He’s been very affectionate with me in front of my family. My brothers are all a little twitchy because of it, but Van, Charly and Kate just wink and smile.

Mama simply pats my shoulder.

He makes me happy.

“And how is that working out?” Declan asks and picks a carrot out of the salad bowl. “You’re such a control freak.”

“It’s my business,” I reply with a shrug. “I should be a control freak. But it’s working out great. Eva comes in for me in the mornings and takes care of breakfast, and helps check guests out. She leaves by about noon each day.”

“I’m glad you took Rhys’s advice and hired Eva,” Kate says, ignoring Eli’s glare. “You were taking on too much.”

“It was beginning to be a lot to handle,” I admit softly. “But I love it. It’s not work for me, you know?”

“But it is work,” Rhys says and plants his lips on my head. “You work your ass off, sugar.”

“She comes by that honestly,” Mama says with a smile. “Every one of my children are hard workers.”

“Just like our parents,” Van says.

“There’s nothing wrong with hard work,” Beau adds. “But there is also a time to admit that you need help, and I’m glad you did.”

“It is nice to have some flexibility in the morning,” I reply with a nod. “And Eva seems to love it. She caught on quickly, doesn’t piss me off, and is happy to have the job.”

“Perfect,” Charly says with a grin and pulls the pork chops out of the oven. “There is nothing worse than an employee who pisses you off.”

“Of course she’s happy to be there,” Mama says as she pulls me in for a big hug. “You’re very easy to love.”

“You’re my mom. You’re supposed to say that.”

I glance up at Rhys, who winks at me then resumes a conversation with Kate and Beau, and I can’t help but remember an evening in bed with him not long ago, when after we’d made love, he smiled and said, “You’re so easy to fall for.”

Yet, he’s never said he loves me. But he shows me he does in so many little ways. The easy affection he shows me, the way he jumps in to help me whenever he thinks I need it.

And I’m beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s not going to disappear from my life. He seems so content here. Maybe he’ll stay.

I wish I wasn’t so fucking scared to just ask him what he wants. But Daddy always said don’t ask a question that you don’t want the answer to.

And if the answer is that he’s having fun with me for now, but he’ll be returning to Chicago soon, well…I don’t want to hear that.

So, I’m basically a coward.

“Earth to Gabby,” Declan says, waving his hand in front of my face. “Where did you go there, baby-doll?”

“Sorry.” I smile and shake my head. “Daydreaming.”

“About what?”

“Dessert.” I glance longingly at the pecan pie Mama made for dessert.

“Can we have pie now?” Sam asks, just as he does every Sunday. And every Sunday he gets the same response.

“I know you’re not gonna try to eat my pie before dinner,” Mama says, shaking her finger at him. Sam’s shoulders droop and he lets out a long sigh.

“No, ma’am.”

“Dinner is just about ready,” Charly says, plating all the dishes, and passing them to me to put on the long table in the dining room. Charly and Mama are the best cooks in the family.

“Why doesn’t Gabby ever help cook?” Beau asks. “You’re a great cook.”

“I do well enough at the inn, but I don’t love it the way Mama and Charly do.” I shrug and set a bowl of salad on the table. “And I helped chop the salad.”

“I like your cooking,” Beau says.

“Does that mean you’d like to join us for more dinners?” I prop my hands on my hips as a smile slips over my eldest brother’s lips.

“Well, since you invited me so nicely, sure.”

“Uncle Beau wants mac n’ cheese,” Sam says as he sits in his chair. “Every night.”

“I think that’s what Sam wants,” I reply dryly. “And you already get it at least twice a week.”

“That’s hardly ever.”

“Yes, you’re incredibly abused,” Charly says with a roll of the eyes. “I’m so very sorry for you.”

“Well, maybe not abused,” Sam says, thinking it over. “Maybe mac n’ cheese abuse!”

I ruffle my son’s hair and help him dish up his plate before I dish up my own. But when I turn to do so, Rhys has already loaded it up, dropping scoops of everything when he scoops his own.

“Thank you.” I lean over and kiss his bicep, then look up to see Declan’s eyes on me. Of all three of my brothers, Declan is the most laid back. He’s the typical artist; very sensitive and easy going, but he can be just as fiercely protective as Beau or Eli, in his way.

But right now, his eyes are smiling, and his lips are quirking, and I know that I’m in for a conversation outside with him before we leave Mama’s house today.

And that’s okay because sometimes Declan gives the best advice.

“Mom, I don’t feel great,” Sam says softly. When I lay my lips on his forehead, it feels warm to the touch, but he’s not burning up.

“Do you think you got too much sunshine today?”

“Maybe.”

He’s picking at his food, and that’s not like him.

“Does your belly hurt?”

“No.”

“Have you felt like this for very long?”

“No, ma’am.” He takes a bite of rice and swallows, and he looks okay to me.

“I’ll give you some medicine when we get home,” I murmur and kiss his head. “Just eat what you want. You don’t have to clean your plate.”

“Do I still get dessert?”

“Yes, baby, you can still have dessert.”

“I think it’s just because you didn’t hug your Nannan when you came in,” Mama says and kisses Sam’s head as she passes him to her seat. “You don’t feel warm.”

“He might have overdone it today,” I say, a little worried. But my boy plays hard, and sometimes he just wears himself out.

“Charly,” Kate says, “I need some new shoes for fall.”

“Oh, sugar, I have you covered.” Charly tucks her hair behind her ear and rubs her hands together. “I have a whole slew of new shoes coming in later this week, and they are to die for.”

“Perfect,” Kate says with a grin.

“We’ll be there,” Van agrees.

“You should come with us,” Kate says to me. “You hardly ever come into the city.”

“Well, now that I have an employee, I might be able to do that,” I reply happily. “I’ll let you know.”

Suddenly, Rhys leans down and whispers in my ear, “Snag a pair of new fuck-me shoes.”

I grin over at him and feel my cheeks flush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Done.”

***

“So talk to me about Rhys,” Declan says as he leads me into Mama’s back yard. We’re wandering through her gardens, on brick paths. As summer is coming to an end, the evenings are cooling off a bit.

Not cool by most people’s standards, but it’s not stifling.

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” He sighs and drags his hand through his longer hair. “How are you? How does he make you feel? Is he good to you?”

“Being the big brother.”

“And your friend.” He takes my hand in his and squeezes it lightly. “Always your friend, baby-doll.”

And that just brings tears to my eyes. I love that all of my brothers and sisters are also my dear friends. My best friends.

I don’t know what I would do without them.

“I’m doing very well,” I assure him immediately. “I’m happy. He makes me feel happy.”

“You look happy,” he says. “You look like you’re in love.”

“And I suppose I am.”

He nods, then frowns, as though he’s trying to find the words.

“Just say it.”

“It’s not that easy, Gabs.” He sits on a bench and leans his elbows on his jean-covered knees. He’s in a blue T-shirt, showing off the muscles in his arms.

Despite them being my brothers, I’m not stupid. I know they’re all good looking men. And I tend to be a bit protective of my Declan because his heart is softer than the others, and I’ll be damned if anyone is going to hurt him and live to tell about it.

“I love you, Dec.”

His head whips up, surprised.

“Where did that come from?”

“I just don’t get to see you often enough, and I miss you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He rubs his fingers over his mouth, studying me. “Okay, so this is how I see it, as an outsider looking in. And keep in mind that I’m your brother too, so there’s that.”

“Oh boy.”

“You’re clearly in love with each other. The way he looks at you is how Daddy used to look at Mama.”

Oh. My heart goes all gooey and I bite my lip.

But then he keeps talking.

“And frankly, it worries me.”

I blink at him. “Wait. What?”

“It worries me, Gabs. What happens when he goes home?”

“I don’t know.”

My honest statement stops him cold. “But you’ve thought about it.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it. I know he’s not going to be here forever.”

“And your home is here.”

I nod. “I know.”

“I am so happy that you’ve found someone who makes you happy,” Dec says with a smile. “But I see this ending with you broken-hearted and that hurts me too. I don’t want to watch you go through that again.”

“He might stay,” I say optimistically. “I mean, yes, he plays baseball, but, you never know.”

He nods, his eyes sober and maybe a little sad. “Just be smart, Gabs. And if he does break your heart, I’m here.”

“You’re not going to threaten to kill him?”

“No, Beau and Eli will do that.” He grins. “I’m the more passive of the three of us.”

“You know, for a big brother, you’re not so bad.”

“And for a snot-nosed, baby sister, neither are you.”

I laugh as he stands next to me and hug him tightly around the middle. He’s so tall, I feel small next to him. “I’m gonna wipe my snot nose on you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Or, I have a feeling, the last.”

***

I have a very sick little boy on my hands.

“I’m gonna throw up again,” Sam says pitifully. He’s kneeling on the floor of our bathroom, his head hanging in the toilet.

“Okay, buddy, go ahead.” I’m rubbing his little back and holding a cold, wet cloth to his neck. I feel so helpless.

“But I don’t want to.”

“I know, but you’ll feel better after.”

Rhys pokes his head around the doorjamb. “Need me?”

More than anything.

“No, we’re okay.”

Just then, Sam loses his pecan pie in the toilet.

“I’ll bring a bottle of water,” he says and disappears. I had no idea how nice it was to have someone with you when your baby is sick. He hands the water to me, and I take it gratefully.

“Okay, baby, have some water,” I croon to Sam as he sits back on his haunches. He’s breathing hard and sweaty.

Throwing up takes a lot of energy.

Sam cautiously sips the water, looking up at me with water-filled brown eyes.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, sweetie.”

“My tummy hurts.”

“I know.” I wipe his face off with the wet cloth and help him brush his teeth, then take him into his room and get him settled in bed. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?”

He shakes his head no. “Will you stay here until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” I lean in and kiss his head. He’s warm. Not burning up, but warm. He must have caught a bug from somewhere.

So I sit and sing our song to him, gently stroking his face and hair. His eyes are closed, his cheeks just a little flushed, and his lips are rosy red.

He looks like my baby.

But suddenly, he sits up and throws up, all over both of us and the bed, and immediately bursts into tears.

“What’s happening?” Rhys asks as he runs into the room.

“He got sick again,” I reply grimly, trying to soothe my boy and avoid the vomit. “We’re a little messy here.”

Without missing a beat, Rhys gathers us both into his arms and carries us into the bathroom.

“We’re going to get you messy too. And we stink.”

“You’re fine,” he replies as he sets us down on the closed toilet. “I’m going to go take care of the bed linens. You guys clean up. I’ll bring fresh clothes.”

And with that, he marches out and leaves us to strip out of our clothes, down to our underwear. I toss the soiled pajamas into the hamper, and Rhys passes me fresh ones, not even taking a second to stare at me in my mostly nakedness, and Sam doesn’t even care that Rhys has seen us half naked as I help him into the fresh clothes, then pull mine on too.

“Feel better?” I ask him.

“A little. I’m just tired now.”

“God, you’re heavy,” I mutter as I lift him into my arms and carry him into my bedroom and settle us both into my bed. Rhys will just have to sleep in “his” room tonight. My boy needs me.

Sam is lying in the dead center of the bed and I’m lying on my side beside him, playing with his hair and whispering to him.

“Where’s Derek?” he asks.

“Rhys is getting him all settled for the night.”

“Can he sleep with us?”

“Sure,” Rhys says as he comes into my room and lifts the puppy onto the bed. “I just took him outside, and he’s good to go for tonight.”

He holds my gaze as he strips down to just his T-shirt and underwear and slips into the bed with us.

“Are you sick too?” Sam asks as Derek curls up next to Sam’s legs and with a big, gusty sigh, settles in to sleep.

“No, I just want to hold you and your mom,” Rhys says as he pulls us both against him, Sam between us. “I’m kind of worried about you both, and this makes me feel better.”

“But Mom isn’t sick,” Sam says with a yawn, and I hold my breath, praying that the vomiting is over. But he doesn’t throw up again; he just snuggles against Rhys’s chest.

“No, but she’s worried about you, and that makes me worry about her.”

“Oh,” Sam says with a frown. “But Moms are strong.”

“Your mom is very strong,” Rhys agrees, still holding my gaze with his over Sam’s head. He reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair that has fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear. “But even moms need someone to look after them.”

“What about you?” I ask softly.

“I have everything I want in this bed,” he replies and I have to lower my eyes so he can’t see the tears that come at that statement.

Ask him if he’s going to stay! Tell him you love him! Stop being a pain in the ass and torturing yourself!

But instead, because I’m an idiot, I simply kiss Sam’s head and settle in next to him, not saying anything.

“I love you, Rhys.” Sam’s voice is sure and unwavering as he says those words that I find impossible to say. Rhys simply smiles softly and kisses Sam’s head.

“I love you too, buddy.”

He loves my son.

“I love you, Mama,” Sam says softly.

“I love you too, baby boy.”

“I’m not a baby boy. I’m a man,” he says with as much indignation he can muster, given how crappy he feels. Rhys and I both chuckle.

“Well, I think that when you’re sick like this, you’re still my baby boy,” I reply. “You were so tiny when you were born.”

Rhys tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

“He loves hearing the story of how he was born.”

“Tell me again,” Sam says, his eyes closed now. Derek is snoring loudly, snuggled between Sam’s legs.

“It was a really hot summer night,” I begin the way I always do. “And I was in my room at Nannan and Pawpaw’s house, when suddenly, my water broke.”

“That’s gross,” Sam says.

“It was scary because you weren’t supposed to come for six more weeks.” I bite my lip as I think back to how terrified I was at the thought of having Sam so early. “But, I’ve come to learn that you’re just an impatient boy.”

“Am not,” he mutters.

“Okay.” I chuckle and kiss his head. “So, I woke Pawpaw up and he took me to the hospital while Nannan called all of the others, and they met us there later.”

“And Uncle Beau and Aunt Charly were in the room when I was born.”

“That’s right. You took your time, though. Twenty-six hours of labor was a long time, but then suddenly, there you were, all pink and tiny, and angry as could be.”

“Well, I was getting crowded in your belly,” Sam says logically.

“I see. Well, we got you all cleaned off, and the nurse laid you on my chest, and you looked up at me and just stared at me as I talked to you, as if you already knew that I was your mama.”

“It’s because it’s just you and me, against the world,” he whispers softly, making more tears spring in my eyes. God, I’m so damn emotional tonight!

“That’s right,” I whisper back, and glance up to see Rhys watching us, listening intently. “And you were as healthy as could be, even as tiny as you were.”

“I eat all the gross vegetables you make me eat,” he says. He’s so sleepy, he’s going to drift off any second. So, I stop talking and just stroke my fingertips over his forehead, his cheeks, through his hair.

“I hate that you went through that alone,” Rhys says softly when Sam is finally asleep.

“I didn’t. I had my family with me.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

I bite my lip, thinking about that night not so long ago, and how loved I felt.

“Honestly, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything in that moment. My family was there, loving us so much, and I had him. At the end of the day, he was all that mattered.”

Rhys nods and leans over Sam to kiss my lips gently. “You should sleep too, baby.”

“I know. Are you staying?”

“Do you mind if I do?”

I glance down at my son and his sleeping puppy, then back up at this strong, sweet, loving man. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Good, because you were going to have a very difficult time getting me out of here.”

Chapter Sixteen

~Gabby~

I haven’t just laid in bed and enjoyed the quiet in…I don’t remember the last time. Eva’s been with me long enough now that I feel comfortable leaving the inn in her hands. I heard Sam get up with Rhys about an hour ago, and it sounded like they were headed to the barn to work out.

That Sam enjoys working out with Rhys makes me smile. It’s been two days since he had the nasty bug, but it was gone by morning, and he was back to his old self yesterday.

And now, lying here, I feel like I’m catching it.

Figures.

I haven’t thrown up yet, but I feel a bit queasy. Thankfully, his only lasted about eight hours.

I hope I’m that lucky.

I’m scrolling through my phone, pinning recipes on Pinterest, when it suddenly starts to ring.

Unknown number.

“Ugh, give it up already,” I mutter as I accept the call. “Hello.”

There’s a pause and I’m about to hang up when a man’s voice says, “Gabby?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“This is Colby.”

My mouth drops open, and a cold sweat immediately breaks out over my skin. “What do you want? Are you the idiot that’s been hanging up on me lately?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, clearly lying. “Did you get my email a couple months ago?”

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you respond? I want to see my child.”

“I didn’t respond because you signed your rights away, Colby.” I swallow hard and close my eyes, determined to stay bad-ass during this conversation. “There was no need to reply to your email.”

“Look, this doesn’t have to be difficult, Gabby. I was young when I did that, and now I’m curious to meet him.”

“How do you know it’s a him?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. I’ve kept tabs over the years. He should know his father.”

“No. He shouldn’t. His father wanted to have him killed before he was born.”

“We were children, Gabby.” He’s raising his voice now, and I’m simply seeing red.

“We were old enough to have sex, Colby. I was adult enough to get pregnant and raise that baby by myself for seven years. Sam doesn’t ask about you. He’s fine, and you have no legal right.”

“I’m going to see him.”

“No. You’re not.”

I end the call and drop my phone on the bed, cover my face with my shaking hands, and take a long, deep breath.

What I said is true; Colby has no legal right. My father’s lawyers made damn sure that the documents he signed were airtight. He can’t hurt me, and he can’t get to Sam.

But damn it, I haven’t heard his voice since that day in the garden. Back then I couldn’t get enough of his voice.

Today it makes me ill.

In fact, I think I’m going to be sick.

I run for the bathroom and lose last night’s dinner, and then dry heave for long minutes. My eyes are watering, and my stomach muscles are screaming when it’s finally over.

It’s just a combination of the adrenaline from the phone call and this bug that Sam had, and it attacks once more. Jesus, there’s nothing left in me, but I keep heaving uncontrollably.

I lean against the toilet seat, and my boobs cry in protest. Holy hell, they are sore.

When the heaving stops, I drop back on my haunches, breathing hard, and feel the sides of my breasts. Oh my God, they hurt. I must be about to start my period. It’s surely due, I haven’t had a period in…

Holy fucking hell.

That can’t be right.

I stand, rinse my mouth out, splash cool water on my face and stare at my reflection as I mentally count back again. I don’t think I had a period last month.

How in the hell did I miss that?

My phone. I need my phone. It’s still on the bed. So I run out and grab it, then run back into the bathroom, lock the door and call Van’s number.

But it goes straight to voice mail.

Shit.

So I call Charly.

“Hey, sugar.”

“I know you’re probably super busy, but I already called Van and I got her voice mail.”

“Gabby?”

I glower at the phone. “Of course this is Gabby.”

“Why are we whispering?” she asks in a loud whisper, matching my tone.

“Because I need help.”

“Are you in danger?” she screeches.

“No. I need a pregnancy test, and I don’t have one, and I need you to go get one and bring it here. But don’t tell anyone.”

“Gabby, are you kidding me?”

“Shhh!” It’s too damn hot in here. I’m starting to sweat. “If you’re too busy, I understand.”

“Fuck that, I’ll be there in one hour.”

She’s here in thirty minutes.

“It’s Charly,” she calls through the door. “Open up.”

I unlock the door, let her in, then close and lock it behind her and take the white plastic bag out of her hand. “Are you going to watch me pee?” I ask as she perches herself on the edge of the tub.

“I did the first time,” she reminds me with a shrug. “Might as well this time too.”

“It’s weird to have you watch me pee.”

“Sugar, I’ve seen everything on you there is to see. Just pee on the fucking stick.”

I open the box and smirk. “You got the fancy kind that actually says pregnant or not pregnant.”

“I don’t want there to be any doubt of the outcome,” she replies and crosses her legs, as though we’re talking about the weather.

When I’m finished, I snap the cap back on the end and set it on the countertop to let it do its thing.

“Now talk to me,” Charly says. “We have, like, three minutes to waste.”

“My boobs hurt, I threw up this morning, and when I did the math, I haven’t had a period in about six weeks.”

Her jaw drops. “Gabby, you know how this happens.”

“Clearly,” I reply dryly. “This isn’t planned.”

“You know, you’ve always been a planner. Why didn’t that flow over into the pregnancy arena as well?”

“I guess I like to keep things interesting,” I reply and pick the stick up, stunned when I see Pregnant.

“Charlotte Boudreaux!” I exclaim and throw the stick in the sink, as if it’s a snake and it’s going to bite me any second.

“I guess that means it’s positive? And I’d just like to clarify, I’m not the one who got you pregnant, despite the way you just yelled my name, as though it’s all my fault.”

“What in the hell am I going to do?” I sit on the toilet and hang my head in my hands, and I’m suddenly nauseous again, but I don’t even have time to turn around and get it in the toilet. I grab the trash can and heave in it for what seems like forever. “I’m dying.”

“Not today,” Charly replies with too much cheer in her voice. “But you are going to be a mommy again.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Tell me you’ve been using protection.”

“Of course we do,” I reply and wrinkle my forehead as I try to remember back. “I’m not an idiot. There was one time that we forgot, but he pulled out.”

“Well, you didn’t forget to ovulate.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Van and I really failed you when it came to sex education, sugar. I knew we should have had that talk with you.”

“This isn’t funny,” I reply softly. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to tell the man you’ve been having an intimate relationship with that you’re pregnant and go from there. You’re not in this alone, Gabby.”

“I don’t want him to think that I’m trying to trap him.”

“He’d be an idiot to think that.”

I nod, but I’m not convinced. “I need some time to think. I just need to get my own head on straight before I dump this on him.”

“The longer you wait to tell him, the more it’ll feel like a betrayal when you finally do.”

“How about if you tell him and I go to Tahiti?”

She laughs, then rubs her hand over my back in a big circle. “It doesn’t work like that. If anyone’s going to Tahiti, it’s me.”

“Killjoy.”

***

“Mom, I don’t want to go to bed.”

I sigh and look up toward heaven, already exhausted and not in the mood to play the bedtime game with Sam.

“You were supposed to be in bed an hour and a half ago, Samuel Beauregard Boudreaux. I don’t want to have this argument.”

“But I didn’t tell you yet that I love you.”

I narrow my eyes on his angelic face. Angelic my ass. “Yes you did.”

“But I didn’t whisper it so the ghost couldn’t hear me.”

We are in the sitting room. I’m setting out fresh brownies for the guests to have with their wine. Only a few have come down for the wine hour. Rhys is sitting with them.

“There are no ghosts,” I inform Sam with a shake of my head.

“You don’t know that.”

I bite my lip. I have never yelled at Sam over bedtime, and I refuse to start now, but I’m reaching my limit.

“I do know, Sam. I love you, too. Now, go to bed.”

“But I’m not sleepy.”

Rhys and the two guests are watching us like it’s a tennis match.

“Count sheep.”

“But I don’t like to count sheep. They make me puke.”

The guests chuckle. Rhys smiles, the traitor. And I simply hang my head.

“Sheep don’t make you puke.”

“Yep, they do.”

“I don’t care what you count, Sam. Just go to bed.”

“But I—”

“Come on, buddy.” Rhys stands and takes Sam’s hand, then winks at me. “Let’s go find something to count that doesn’t make you sick.”

He leads Sam to his bedroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry about that,” I say to the kind couple who are enjoying brownies and wine. “He’s fought me over bedtime since he was small.”

“Ours did too,” the wife replies with a wave of the hand. “He’ll eventually turn into a teenager, and then all he’ll ever want to do is sleep.”

“I’m looking forward to that day,” I reply with a grin.

“Let him be small,” her husband replies with a kind smile. “It’s over in the blink of an eye.”

I nod and leave them in the sitting room. I’m feeling a little better this evening, but now I’m just full of nerves. Rhys has been his usual happy, affectionate self all day, and all I can think is, once I tell him that I’m carrying his baby, is he going to go running in the other direction?

Because why wouldn’t he? He has no ties to me. He doesn’t owe me anything. He’s already gone above and beyond where Sam and I are concerned.

And I’m not even sure that he won’t be leaving to go back to Chicago any day.

Because I’m too much of a pussy to just ask him.

I finish cleaning the kitchen and prepare the food for Eva tomorrow morning. That will save her some time.

Finally, about an hour later, Rhys finds me in the kitchen. He moves up behind me, grips my shoulders in his hands and kisses my head. “You okay?”

I nod and turn in his arms, wrap my arms around his torso, and hug him close. His heartbeat is strong and sure against my cheek. God, he feels so damn good. Safe. Familiar.

He feels like home.

“Come on,” he murmurs and leads me out of the kitchen, flipping off lights as we go to my private quarters. But instead of walking into the bedroom, he sits on the couch and turns on the TV. “Lie down. Put your head in my lap.”

Well, that sounds like a little slice of heaven. So I do. As soon as my head meets his thigh, Rhys’s fingers are in my hair, combing it softly, rhythmically.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs. I look up at him, surprised to see so much worry in his bright green eyes.

“I just don’t feel well,” I reply quietly. And it’s the truth; I don’t feel well. “I probably caught whatever Sam had the other day.”

“Do you need to throw up?”

“No.” I smile, and without thinking about it, I cup his cheek in my hand, enjoying the way his light stubble feels against my skin. “You are so handsome.”

“You say that to all the guys who play with your hair when you don’t feel well.”

He always makes me laugh. “Only the ones who have green eyes and sexy arms.”

“You like my arms, do you?”

I nod and sigh as his fingertips scrub my scalp. “You’re good with your hands.”

“I love your hair.”

I love you.

“What do you want to watch on TV?” I ask instead.

“I don’t give a fuck about the TV.”

“Well, you turned it on,” I reply with a frown, and he clicks it off. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’d just rather look at you than watch TV.”

“Are you going to stare at me in a creepy way?” His lips twitch, and then tip up in the corner in that way they do when he finds me particularly cute.

“If you think lust is creepy, then yes.”

I laugh out loud, unable to stop the snort that comes along with it. “No, there’s a difference between creepy and lustful.”

“Okay then, just lustful.”

I rest my hands over my belly and the tiny baby sleeping there. I need to tell him. Now is the perfect time. We’re alone, and we’re comfortable.

But instead, I close my eyes and enjoy the way his fingers feel in my hair. No one in my life has ever touched me the way Rhys does.

“What are you thinking?” he asks softly.

“I was just thinking that no one’s ever touched me the way you do.”

His hand pauses for a moment, and then resumes. “I should hope not.”

“Does it bother you that I don’t have a lot of experience with men?”

Why did I just ask him that?

“Why would it bother me?”

“I mean, I’m twenty-seven. Shouldn’t I have had more partners?”

“I don’t think so. It’s been a lot of fun to show you new things. To watch you experience new feelings. It’s been a privilege, Gabby.”

I nod, but don’t open my eyes.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?” I ask suddenly.

“Sixteen,” he replies immediately. I open my eyes to find him looking down at me with a grin. “No need to lie about that. Or anything else, for that matter.”

Direct hit.

“I was nineteen,” I reply. “And I got pregnant at the same time.”

“That’s crazy,” he replies.

“How many partners have you had?” Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Gabrielle!