Page 51 of The Bartender's Baby

“I knew Danny from a few of my classes in school, and we started dating pretty soon after my dad died. I was looking for…”

Nate handed me a tissue when I sniffed. “I get it.”

“Danny’s family was really nice. They were religious and went to church on Sundays, but they also had family game nights and invited me for dinner all the time, and I loved being with them. I loved being a part of that, so when Danny said we should get married and go to college together, I thought it was a great idea.” I dabbed at my eyes. “We had a little ceremony and moved in to a tiny apartment over his family’s garage. It was… Well, you know the rest.”

Nate scooted up to take me in his arms, and I played at being annoyed at his sweat-soaked shirt. He only held me closer, tighter.

“We’re going to have to change the sheets,” I said into his throat.

“Oh, definitely. Especially after what I’m gonna do to you.”

I refused to laugh, even as his breathy chuckle tickled my ear.

We were both quiet for a minute, digesting all this new information we’d shared, our mutual desires for family. I understood why Nate would be turned off from being a parent,but he slid so easily into the role of provider and protector, it amazed me he never saw that in himself. But now that I had the full picture, I assumed it was more about the echo of not feeling good enough than it was about his fear.

Because he’d conquered that quite soundly and knew almost more about this baby and pregnancy than I did.

“You know,” he said eventually, catching my gaze, “I had it wrong.”

“Had what wrong?”

“I always thought you had Maleficent vibes, but you’re actually the princess.”

I scoffed. “What?”

“You’re Cinderella with the evil stepmom.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I like Maleficent better. She can turn into a dragon and light her enemies on fire.”

He nodded sagely. “I’ll light your enemies on fire for you, princess.”

I bit my cheeks, but a smile snuck through, and his eyes lit up in delight that he’d gotten me again. “Now, come on. Let Prince Charming show you how good he can fuck you.”

He scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom, Lucy happily following us. He set me down, and I promptly brushed my teeth while he turned the shower on and shoved Lucy back out the door, muttering, “Go lie down, Luce. I’m about to defile your mother.”

I bent over to spit into the sink, and Nate immediately pressed the position advantage, thrusting his half-hard cock against my ass, his hands curling around my hips. “I’m not finished yet,” I mumbled with suds in my mouth, but he didn’t care, sinking his hands below my underwear to spread my pussy open, delving his fingers inside without any warm-up.

He smiled at my reflection. “Gotta love those morning spikes in your hormones, huh?”

I finished brushing, and he pushed the cotton down my legs and helped me to step out of them before tossing them into the laundry basket, my work shirt following, leaving me completely naked.

He stared, his gaze slowly trekking over me, pausing at my breasts, my stomach, and my legs, then finally returning to my eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

I’d been complimented my whole life. A generic white girl face with big boobs and a naturally small waist will do that, make come-ons and catcalls commonplace. But Nate’s honest words landed different, a direct hit to the soft spot I’d just exposed to him. He knew everything about me now, and he still thought I was beautiful. Even with my melodramatic past and growing stretch marks.

Maybebecauseof them.

With how he tenderly held my face between his hands to kiss me, it certainly felt that way.

He helped me step into the shower, leaving the curtain open as he stripped naked, permitting me a view of his sculpted backside as he placed his clothes in the laundry. I knew he attended a seven a.m. class every morning, and the idea of flirty Nate laughing and joking with women as he got all hot and bothered, doing whatever it was CrossFit people did—throw tires or something—made my dragon side want to light things on fire.

He stepped into the shower, turning so the spray hit his back, and tugged me to him, his feet on either side of mine, his erection nestled between us. “What’s the mean mug for?”

“You have women in your workout class?”

“Usually a few. One of the coaches is a woman. Why?”

“You ever take your shirt off there?”

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