Page 37 of Expensive

His response comes immediately.

When can I see you?

Maybe I should tell him that I won’t be ready for a few days. That will give me time to figure out what I want to do.

But my bond ache is overwhelming.

I slide my fingers over the bite mark in the crook of my neck. Timber claimed me, in his own way. It’s not a traditional bond, and we haven’t committed to each other for life, but I mean something to him. I know I do. For all I know, he could be happy about the pregnancy. There’s no way know way to be sure unless I tell him.

I send him a message before I can think better of it.

Tomorrow. First thing in the morning.

One of Timber’s interviews has always haunted me. He once told a reporter that every time a baby was taken by his captors in the pits, he gave them a name. He never said it out loud or told anyone, he just named them in his head because that child could have been his. He never knew which ones were.

Even if he doesn’t want this child, I think he’d want to know it exists. That it’s his.

I just have to hope that the kindness he showed me last weekend doesn’t go up in smoke when he realizes how complicated things have become.

19

Timber

Early Tuesday morning I take my car to the address printed on the instructions Marjorie gave me, find the car that beeps when I push the button on the key she included in the envelope, and drive to an underground garage. The whole process takes about an hour, which means I unlock her conjoining garage early and spend a good ten minutes hidden under the foam compartment in her trunk before I hear the clacking of her heels on the cement of the garage floor. I have the toys I purchased for Andrew yesterday clutched to my chest and an overnight bag packed with everything I’ll need until I return home.

Last night we texted back and forth for hours. That’s probably not what we should use our burner phones for, but he seemed sad. Maybe it was just because we were communicating by text. It’s hard to know. But this morning I’m on my way to see him in person, and I don’t have anywhere to be for days. As long as Andrew can keep me hidden from his servants, I don’t have to leave his side until I hear back from Manny.

The ride to Andrew’s mansion isn’t long. I stay put in the compartment even after Marjorie’s car slows and then stops altogether. The instructions stipulated that Marjorie would be the one to get me out of the trunk. After waiting for what feels like an eternity, I hear the hatchback trunk open, and I’m blinded by light as the top of the compartment lifts off me.

I blink rapidly, trying to make out the image of the person before me who is blurry in the sudden light. When my eyes adjust, I see it’s Andrew, not Marjorie, who’s looking back at me.

I climb across the rubber floor of the trunk and pull him into my arms. “Oh, baby boy. I’ve missed you.”

It feels like we’ve been apart for months instead of two days.

His smell is intoxicating—all man and a hint of soap. I inhale deep and find my bite mark on the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss to the swollen skin. Andrew sighs contentedly.

I expected him to jump me—to be so consumed by the lust caused from his bond ache that he’d take me to bed right away or ask me to take him against the wall of whatever room we were in. Instead, he curls into my lap and tucks his head under my chin the way he did many times last weekend.

God, I could spend two days with him in this exact position. It feels so right to hold him like this.

“I should bring you into the house,” he says, his breath tickling my chest where my button-up shirt is only half-fastened. I wanted to show off a little for my boy.

“We have time. So far, Marjorie’s trunk seems pretty nice.”

“What is that?” He points to the bag where I’d stashed all his toys. The blue wings of the stuffed dragon are poking out of the top.

“Oh, that’s a little something I got for you.”

He looks up at me with a shy smile. “You bought something for me?”

I kiss his forehead. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself. Now go on and show me this bedroom of yours. I want to see where you were jerking yourself off last night.”

Our text conversation the previous night may have gotten a little sexual. He needed some relief, and I was more than happy to provide it.

Andrew jumps down, and I grab my bags to follow him into a large garage where dozens of sports cars are parked.

“This is where Edward kept his cars. Obviously. I’m not really sure what to do with them. I’m assuming that some of them will go down in value at some point, and I don’t need them, but… I don’t know.”

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