Page 28 of Plus-Size Pregnant Mate

"Okay, where are they?" I asked, pulling out a couple of plates.

"My folks."

I stiffened and turned back to her. She was staring at me quietly.

I looked away, dishing up for us. "All of it?"

She softly sighed. "That’s where I did my art."

"Didn't you have a studio? Don't most artists have studios?"

"Do you not remember my bedroom? I have a connecting studio to it."

I had thought she'd gone overseas and made a name for herself. I hadn't realized she was still at home living with her folks.

"Why didn't you ever move out?" I asked, turning and placing a dish in front of her.

"I thought about it," she said. "And I was going to, but things never seem to align. And my folks told me to focus on my art, so I did."

She took a bite of the chicken, and her eyes widened. She looked up at me. "You can cook?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you seem so surprised? Of course, I can cook."

She made a face. "When we were dating, I am almost a hundred percent sure I cooked most of the time."

I smiled. "I liked to watch you cook. You were always so happy when I found out what you'd done. I didn't want to ruin that for you."

She blushed, looking down at the plate. "Well, now I know how you felt."

I smiled. "That and you cooked naked."

Her eyes snapped back up. "I only did that a few times!"

"Yes, and it's engraved in my mind forever."

She took another bite of her food, but I could see a smirk pulling at her lips.

I sat down next to her, taking a bite. The room was quiet but comfortable.

"So, how are you going to get the artwork from your folks?"

She paused and pushed the chicken around on her plate. "I'm going to have to go and get it from them. I'll call and see what time I can swing by to grab stuff. That's if they haven't burned my stuff yet."

I frowned. I knew it wasn't going to be that simple. Her folks weren't going just to let her leave without a fight. They were going to pull something. I just didn't know what.

"Do you want me to go? I can take you."

She shook her head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. My folks wouldn't let you in the house anyway." She looked at me. "Or did you forget about us having to date in secret because they despised you so much?"

I hadn't. I never would.

"I just worry…I don't want anything to happen to you."

Her eyes softened, and she gave me a soft smile. "I know. I promise I will be okay. I know how to handle my folks."

I frowned, hating that statement. She shouldn’t have to handle her folks. Parents are supposed to protect and support their children. They aren't supposed to cause them pain like this.

"I just want you to be safe. If you don't feel you can go, you don't have to. Let me know if anything happens."

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