Page 103 of Before I Loved You

He smirks. “I didn’t, so I ordered a bit of everything.”

“A man who buys his woman food is a good man,” I tease.

“His woman, huh?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate—”

He presses his lips to mine, instantly shutting me up as his hand cups the back of my neck, pushing me into him.

God, this man can kiss.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “You’re mine, Sarah Fleur. Don’t ever forget that.”

I smile at his words. No one’s ever claimed me before. I’m all for feminism, but damn, hearing those words come out of his mouth just ignited a spark in the center of my core.

“Tell me I’m yours,” he whispers against my lips.

I playfully brush my lips against his. “You’re mine, Paul Weston.”

Thirty minutes later, Paul greets the delivery guy at the door while I change into an oversized T-shirt. When I come out of my room, I see bags and bags of food.

“Paul, what did you do?” I laugh, holding my hand over my mouth.

He shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure you and our baby have a good meal.”

Our baby.

My eyes water, but I blink a few times to stop them.

He brings all the food to the coffee table, and I get comfortable on the couch, gliding a blanket over my legs. I reach for a piece of a quesadilla and take an unladylike bite.

“Mmm. This is so good,” I mumble through a mouthful of food.

He smiles. “You might want to wash that down with something.” He spins around, walking into the kitchen.

Shit. I never went grocery shopping today. Not that I would be able to afford much…

“I’m sorry.” I quickly get up, following him. “I never went grocery shopping. I’m afraid there’s nothing in the fridge. I can only offer you tap water.”

“I went grocery shopping,” he says casually.

I pause mid-step. “You did?”

“Yeah. I noticed you had nothing in your fridge or cabinets, so I went to the store and got some essentials.”

I open the fridge to look inside, and my mouth falls open. “You stocked my fridge.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure—”

My arms enclose around him tightly. “Thank you.”

His arms wrap around me. “You’re welcome.”

I peek into the open fridge beside us and spot a bottle of whipped cream. “Paul?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Does whipped cream count as an essential item?”

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