Page 150 of Forgot to Tell You Something

“You’re not very good at it. You’re no more immune to me than I am to you. But you wanted your space, so I’m letting you have it.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, although I’m not sure how thankful I am. Owen was right, my pregnancy hormones are raging, and the sight of him half-naked in bed is mighty appealing.

“Yep, you’ll have to make the first move.”

“Noted.” I’m horny as hell, no doubt about it, but I would sooner swallow fire than approach Owen after everything.

“How are you feeling?”

I shrug. “Tired. But I guess that’s normal. The best part is that I look more tired than I feel.”

His eyes wander over my face, a smile lighting up his mouth. “You’re glowing.”

“I’m probably sweating.”

“Okay, Ms. ‘I can’t take a compliment’. I stand by my first observation.” Owen chuckles, putting his arms behind his head and showing off that delectable chest full of muscles and ink. I have to hand it to him, the man knows what he has to work with, and he is shameless about flaunting it. In front of me, at least.

I fiddle with the door handle, looking for a reason to continue conversing while not throwing myself into his arms. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I pivot on my heel, feeling the food coma settling in. Time for a nap, and maybe a few minutes with my battery operated boyfriend. Hey, a woman has needs.

“Sure you don’t want that head scratch? I give a mean butt scratch, too. Just ask Hecate.”

I flip him the bird, sticking out my tongue at the same time. Yes, I’m mature. Leave me alone.

“Your loss, Darlin.”

Something in Owen’s flippant remark ignites my ire. He’s right, I lost. But so did he. “No,Darlin, I believe it’s your loss. I wouldn’t hold your breath if you think I’ll come to you, begging sexual favors. If you want me, you’d better get busy seducing me. Or was that all talk, too?”

Owen pushes himself to a seated position, those gray eyes flashing at me. “You just gave me a green light, Tally.”

“No, you’re still on yellow.”

“Better than red.”

The heat between us simmers. All I have to do is make one move toward him, and I’ll be halfway to orgasm land in ten minutes.

But I’m not ready to make that step. Not yet. My hormones are kicking and screaming, but my ego is dragging its feet.

I finger the door frame, staring at the wood floor. Everything is top end here. The guest bathroom is bigger than my old bedroom, and I know that this place is a step down from where Owen lived in San Francisco.

Just like that, the reality of the situation shifts into sharp clarity. I much prefer it fuzzy and out of focus. Then I can pretend I belong here, that there’s a place for me. “What are you cooking? It smells delicious.”

“I thought we’d have an early dinner, followed by an evening of movies. Lady’s choice, of course.”

“I get to pick the dinner or the movie?”

“Considering the dinner is already prepped, you’re shit out of luck there. But you can pick the movie. Fair enough?”

I nod. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’ll make it up to me. Don’t you worry about that.” He stifles a yawn behind his hand.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“I got the call at around three, got back around one.”

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