Page 261 of Mountain Men Heroes

“Gabriella?” He called up the stairs.

I heaved myself up from the bathroom floor and moved slowly to the sink, bracing myself on the vanity. I made quick work of brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth with mouthwash.

I could hear his feet pounding up the stairs just as I finished wiping my mouth on the hand towel.

“You okay, beautiful?”

I turned to find him leaning on the bathroom door frame and my breath left my lungs. Even after a month of seeing him daily, his rugged good looks could take me by surprise.

Concern brought his brows together and he stepped into the small room. “Gabriella?”

I shook off my horny hormones. “I’m fine. Baby’s just making sure I don’t forget about him today.”

Mac grinned and reached for me, wrapping his arms loosely around my waist. “The little one’s giving you a hard time, huh?”

I nodded. “Some days more than others.”

He kissed the tip of my nose and I shivered, melting into him. I laid my head on his chest, right over his heart.

“Are you exhausted?”

I nodded, not bothering to pick up my head. He gathered me in closer and rocked me a little in his arms, his head resting on the top of mine. It was a position I found myself in a lot, and I hated to admit how much I was coming to rely on the comfort I got being in his arms.

After a few minutes, Mac pulled back. “How about a warm bubble bath?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve read that baths aren’t good for you when you’re pregnant. I’m not sure if it’s true or an old wives’ tale, but I rather not take any chances until I talk to the doctor.”

“Okay, how about you take a warm shower with some of that gel stuff that makes you smell so good.” He ran his nose along my jawline, up to my ear. “I’ll make some dinner while you get comfortable.”

“You’ll make dinner?”

“I can cook, beautiful.”

My mind traveled over the last month. I’d seen Mac nuke some canned spaghetti one afternoon. He’d brought home takeout a bunch of times. He’d made himself sandwiches here and there.

But aside from those few exceptions, if I didn’t cook, he didn’t eat.

“Are you sure? I’m thinking canned spaghetti is not on the top of recommended meals for pregnant women.”

His hands slid up to my shoulders and he did his best to look indignant. “I’ll have you know I can make more than canned spaghetti. I can also grill a mean steak. And a mean pork chop. And a mean chicken breast.”

I smiled at him. “I’m beginning to see a theme here. You want me to design a tattoo for you? Maybe something like if you can kill it, I can grill it. I can weave the words into some deer antlers.”

He shook his head and used his grip on me to turn me around. With a light spank on my ass, he nudged me toward the shower stall. “Shower, smart ass. I’ll see what I can manage for dinner.”

I giggled. That’s right. Me. Gabriella Cole. I giggled. And I wasn’t even ashamed of myself.

In fact, I think a silly grin stayed on my face through the entire shower. I took my time, enjoying every minute of the warm water coursing over my tired body.

By the time I got out and slipped into some pajamas—lightweight pink shorts and a camisole top—my fingers were pruney and every inch of me felt relaxed. I slathered some jasmine-scented lotion over my skin, smiling even more when I thought of Mac’s remark about my scent.

I stepped into the living room, feeling cozy but stopped dead in my tracks. While I was taking my time pampering myself, Mac had been busy down here preparing his own bit of pampering.

He’d turned the lights down low. Even though the sunset didn’t come until late this time of year the forest canopy kept too much light from leaking into the room.

Mac had a small, crackling fire going in the fireplace and he’d set candles all over the room. Wood smoke and vanilla filled the room with a fragrance that was homey and a little sexy at the same time.

Instead of setting the dining room table, Mac had put placemats on the low coffee table. He’d lined pillows and a few soft throws on the floor so we could get cozy and eat in front of the fire.

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