My mother had invited us to stay with her, but fuck, who wanted to have their honeymoon in their parent’s home?
Yeah, not me.
I didn’t even want to be in Miami.
Jessica had only suggested it because she knew she’d never get that much of a chance to visit with my mom otherwise. She wouldn’t go north and I rarely came south—hence the surprise at the climate differential.
I was too busy to go traipsing off. Well, that was in the past.
In the future?
My priorities had shifted.
Big time.
Derek was already laughing at me, calling me whipped, but I could see the gleam of contentedness in his eyes. Those closest to me, even him, said I was too much of a workaholic. I know Mac was concerned about me; all the time. Said I barely slept, and until Jess, that was the truth.
The only thing I’d ever done right was eat and work out well. Sleep was something that, while not a luxury, was for me.
I’d never needed all that much. But with Jessica in my bed? Things had shifted dramatically.
The hotel suite was the largest the five star resort had. It was like first class and presidential combined into one, which meant it was ridiculously far to stumble over to the bathroom from the bed.
The door opened before I made it there and she was backlit by the bright lights from the vanity—it was like an ET phone home moment. That was how bright the lights were.
Shit. I squinted, then saw the bruises under her eyes.
“You’re really sick,” I stated, making it not a question but more of a disappointed grumble.
She winced and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think it must have been the shrimps.”
I shook my head. “No. I had the shrimps too. I’m fine.”
“You’re also twice my size,” she retorted. “Anything that hits me will have less of an effect on you.”
I snorted. “I’m not sure salmonella works like that.” I watched as she sagged against the teak door frame—she looked wrecked. Totally wiped out.
Guilt filled me; here I was grumbling about her being sick and she was actually being sick.
I felt like an asshole. Considering I was being an asshole, I figured it was appropriate.
“Here, sweetheart,” I crooned in a gentle voice as I approached her then bent and tugged her into my arms. She was getting better with my approaching her. At the start, she’d have flinched. Even months on, she’d have started a tad, but now, she just sagged into me.
It was either a testament to how shit she was feeling or that she trusted me.
I preferred to think it was the latter over the former.
Not that my dick moves deserved it.
She sank into me like a limp noodle and moaned and as she turned her face into my throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I hate this.”
“Of course you do. I hate that you’re sick too,” I told her matter-of-factly, not even grunting when she whacked my arm.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. But, also, I don’t care. I have the rest of my life to make you come, Jessica. I can wait until you’re better.”
That had her chuckling, and my grin widened at the sound. “You’re a jerk.”
“Hardly. I can’t help that now you’ve had a taste of me, you can’t get enough.”
That had her lifting her head back to stare up at me. “I really can’t,” she whispered softly.
I winked at her. “I know.” Then, in a breezy tone, I murmured, “Now, do we need to call the doctor?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I really think it must have been the shrimp.”
I tilted my head to the side, a thought occurring to me. Hell, it should have occurred to me before now. Thoughts of periods cock-blocking me should have made the yellow light flash over my head in neon brilliance.
“Jessica?”
“Yeah?”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
For a second, she stilled. She’d been plucking at the sheet on the bed beneath her, but my question had her hand freezing. “What?”
“You heard me,” I whispered hoarsely. Stunned by where my thoughts had led.
“I-I… No.” She shook her head again.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I had one last month.”
I thought back to last month and it was my turn to shake my head. “No. I pretty much ate you out every day last month.” And everything else included.
Once she’d let me get my hands on her, there’d been no way I wasn’t going to make her so happy she was mine that she never wanted me to stop. When she’d been sore, I’d gone down on her, when she’d wanted to explore me, I’d let her. I told her I was her sexual jungle gym, and that she was free to climb all over me—she’d complied. Happily.
“That can’t be,” she whispered, licking her lips. “A-Anyway, I’m irregular.”
Was she? Hell, what did I know of her menstrual system. She’d know more than me, but there was a pale shocked look to her features that made me think she was lying, and I wasn’t sure why.
Was she scared of my reaction? Was that why she was so nervous?
I hated that that might be the case.
“Hey,” I told her gently, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. When she didn’t melt into my touch, I stirred with concern—something was definitely going on here. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I can’t be pregnant. It’s too soon.”
I licked my lips at that. “Mother Nature decides.”
How did I feel about her words? Was she right? Was it too soon?
Maybe.
I guessed.
We’d been together less than a year, but I already knew there was no other woman on the rest of the planet for me. She was younger, but I supposed I was a good age to be a dad. Any older and my children would be graduating when I was nearer retiring age—not that I’d ever retire…
Still, if she truly was pregnant, I’d be closer to forty than I’d like when she gave birth.
Maybe Mother Nature really did know her shit.
And then, it occurred to me that I wasn’t terrified at the idea of being a father.
In the past, I’d never been the sort of guy to really give a damn about passing on my legacy to the next generation. I hadn’t done what I did to make a dynasty; I wanted to write code, so I wrote it and had made a mint off it.
Now though? The prospect of passing that on to my child?
It had my throat clogging. Not with tears, no fucking way. But I had no other explanation as to why I couldn’t talk.
She peeked up at me, still appearing shocky. Her eyes were a little glassy as she took me in, and when she did, her shoulders straightened. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t stop myself. I reached forward and placed a hand on her stomach. She wasn’t naked—she wore my shirt that I’d dumped on the floor last night after we’d made it back from dinner with my mom. But she hadn’t buttoned it, instead, had used it more of a wrap. I took advantage of the easy access to put my palm to her flat belly. “Is it wrong that I hope you are?”
Her eyes flared wide in astonishment. “What?”
I grinned, and I knew it was goofy, but I couldn’t contain myself. I also knew that it seemed to ease something in her because she smiled back at me.
“We could have made a kid together.” I blew out a breath. “That’s kind of neat.”
She gnawed at her bottom lip a second, then sighed. “We only just got engaged.”
I shrugged. “So.”
“So, I’d have liked to… I don’t know.” Her brow puckered. “It took us so long to get to something normal because of…” She peeked up at me again. “You know, finding it hard to have sex.”
Oh, I knew. But she’d been more than worth the wait.
“That doesn’t matter,” I disregarded.
That had her grunting. “It might not to you, but I’d have liked more time to have
monkey sex over every surface in your apartment.”
“Our apartment,” I corrected immediately. “And who says we can’t do that if you’re pregnant or if we have a kid?”
“Have you never seen babies?” she countered. “They’re nature’s condoms.”
I snorted at that. “I think that’s the exact opposite of what they are.”
“They puke and pee and…” She shuddered.
Concern filled me.
“Don’t you want kids?” I tried to imagine her going to the doctor to ‘sort out’ this potential situation, and shuddered in turn. I hated the very idea, but the truth was, Jessica had had too much forced on her in her life. The very last thing I wanted was for us to start this next phase in our relationship together with her feeling like she was being coerced into something.
“Y-Yeah, I guess. I just… somewhere down the line, you know?”
“So, you wouldn’t want to keep it?”
The blunt question seemed to stagger her. She jerked back. “What? Why would you even ask me that? Would you want me to have an abortion if I was pregnant?”
I blinked at her; how the hell had she turned that around on me? “No. I wouldn’t want you to have an abortion, but it’s your choice.”
“Why is it? You have a say. You’re the father.”
I chuckled at that. Maybe it was inappropriate timing but she said it so belligerently I couldn’t stop myself. She’d been the one arguing and now she was getting ballsy. “I know I am. But I never want you to feel like you have to do anything.”
That had her frowning. “That’s a funny way to look at things.”
“Is it?” I shrugged, then ceased looming over her and pressed my ass to the side of the bed. She was half-kneeling on the mattress, her calves scooped under her, but she wasn’t sitting straight. My change in position had her thighs touching mine. I liked the connection and deepened it by pressing my hand to her knee. “You’re free to do whatever you want now, Jessica.”
“I-I am?”
“Yes. What else is all my money for if not to make us happy?”
She stilled. “Does working at Avalon make you happy?”
I shot her a swift grin. “Hell, yeah.” That seemed to calm her down, her shoulders seemed less stiff. “I’d have sold out years ago if not. I love it. I love everything about it. But…” I shrugged. “I highly doubt temping is what you figured you’d be doing all those years ago.”
“No, I guess not,” she said, her tone pensive.
“Did you want to be an attorney?” I’d seen her resume. Contract law. She’d specialized; that meant she’d wanted to do something, hadn’t just wandered aimlessly as so many of the kids had when I’d been in college.
“I suppose.” She blew out a breath that made the hair that had flopped over her forehead gust up. “This is a really weird time to be having this conversation.”
“Is it? Seems like the perfect time to me. We’re talking about the future, aren’t we? Where we want to be, what we want to do. Not just if you’re pregnant, but in general.”
She shot me a look. “You’re taking this better than I’d have ever imagined.”
I shrugged. “Would you prefer me to throw something?”
Her lips curved in a smile. “You drive me crazy, do you know that?”
I winked. “Then I’m doing my job right.”
Her laughter made me melt and also made me relieved. Whatever was going on with her, we’d get through it. Always.
“Yeah, I wanted to be a lawyer,” she admitted. “Then, you know… things happened. I couldn’t afford the bar.”
“Well, you can afford it now. Hell, we can buy the college if you want?”
She snickered, and shoved his arm. “Stop teasing.”
“I’m not. Investing in education is very wise,” I informed her with a grin. Then, a tad more seriously, I murmured, “Do you want to do that now?”
“Be a lawyer?” She pursed her lips. “Not so much, I guess.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. I really wanted to do it back then, and I was angry that it wasn’t an option so that made me want it even more but now? I don’t know. I like working with you.”
The warmth that filled me at that admission floored me. “I’m glad,” I told her huskily. “I love working with you too. You’re good, you know? I think Derek wishes you’d fallen for him because you make his life a lot easier where I’m concerned.”
“I’m not talking about sex and making you come to bed on time,” she retorted with a huff.
I laughed. “Neither am I. I’m more settled, that’s for sure. Easier to corral where before he said I was like a wild horse trying to be saddled.” She giggled at that imagery. “But, I meant, you make our lives easier. Why don’t you stay on for the foreseeable?”
“As your temp?” Her brows lifted a second, then her eyes flashed. “I’d like that.” She reached forward, placed her hand on my thigh. “I can be your naughty secretary.”
I chuckled. “You were that anyway.” I could see that she liked the idea of being my temp, so I shrugged. “We can revisit this conversation after what’s-her-name gets back.”
“You mean my predecessor?” She grinned. “You don’t know her name? She worked there for years, Max. That’s terrible.”
“Didn’t need to know her name. Derek dealt with her, not me.”
“How come? We deal with each other a lot.” Then, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you giving me more work so that you can talk to me more?”
“Busted,” I told her, not an ounce of shame in my voice.
She snorted. “You mean, I should have easier roles?”
“Yep,” I told her brightly. “What’s-her-name used to file things a lot. Not read the contracts.”
She huffed. “I deserve a raise.”
“You’ll get one, sweetheart,” I told her smugly.
Though her eyes flashed, she dipped her hand between my legs and cupped me. “I’ll bet.”
Before she could get any ideas, I grabbed her fingers and curved mine about hers. Not that I wanted those supple digits anywhere else than where they were, but she’d just been sick. She might be pregnant, and if she wasn’t pregnant, then she’d had bad shrimp.
I loved the woman, lusted after her until my balls had turned blue, but I really didn’t want to come down with food poisoning too.
“I think we should call the doctor.”
She pouted. “I brushed my teeth.”
“Did you also disinfect it?” I cocked a brow at her. “Darling, I really don’t want to catch anything.”
“And they say romance is dead.”
She said it so blandly I had to laugh. “I never said it was alive.”
“Oh, you really kept that one quiet, didn’t you?” she teased. “What with the flowers and the chocolates and the…”
I pressed a hand to her mouth. “Stop giving away my secrets.”
Her eyes twinkled. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
“Not until you’ve seen a doctor.”
She stuck her tongue out and danced it along my palm. “Okay then.”
“Who knew that denying you sex would make you so pliable,” I teased, then yelped, when she ducked her head and nipped at the thick pad of flesh near my thumb.
“Pliable? Take it back.”
With a wink, I just reached for the phone beside the bed. “Hi, I need a doctor, please,” I told the receptionist, watching as my fiancée flopped back on the bed with a dramatic sigh.
“Is everything okay, sir? Is it an emergency?”
“No. We think she may have eaten something that might not have agreed with her.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll contact the resort doctor right away. I’ll have him come directly to your quarters the minute he arrives, is that okay, sir?”
“Perfect.”
And, things were perfect when, three hours later, having peed on a stick, and having seen the positive sign on i
t, we realized two were about to become three.
Chapter 12
Jessica
Six Months Later
When I saw Martin Nida walk through the doors to Max’s office, I didn’t really know what to think.
Had I expected to see him again?
In the deepest darkest parts of my soul? Maybe.
I’d known Max wouldn’t let it drop, and even though he’d never said anything to me about looking into what had happened, had never mentioned he’d investigated further, now, he didn’t have to.
The man himself was walking toward me, and the craziest thing?
He didn’t recognize me.
Sure, I looked different to how I’d looked then.
Before it happened, I’d had brunette hair that, afterward, I’d let return to my natural dirty blonde locks. After, I’d lost a shit ton of weight and had always looked ragged and tortured whenever I’d had to go to court.
Now?
Well, I was anything other than thin.
My belly was round, and some days, I felt like I was carrying a basketball.
Mackenzie said that I was letting the team down by carrying a basketball, to which Max could frequently be found asking, “Babies don’t come in pigskin.”
I always had to hide a laugh because Mac would just cluck his tongue in disgust and grumble, “You still don’t get it? How many times do I have to make the joke?”
I usually just squeezed Max’s hand when he made to argue, then kissed him.
That had a tendency of keeping him quiet.
A small smile wanted to curve my lips at the thought, but I couldn’t smile. Not when this fucker was walking toward me like he’d never seen me before.
Like he hadn’t taken me against my will, like he hadn’t destroyed me mentally, emotionally, financially. Like he hadn’t proven that for people like me going up against people like him? Yeah, there was no protection.
Not unless you had someone bigger, nastier, and richer than him at your back.
And unbeknownst to him, I did now.
Max had so much money, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to spend it. Not in a lifetime, not if we bought a thousand homes, or gave it away, because even if we did give it away, the next day, more money would have accrued from his investments.
Cherishing Her: A Protector Office Romance Page 12
