Page 111 of Set Me On Fire

“She will get used to this.”

I couldn’t seem to pull free of her, instead clasping her to my chest as I lay down on the bed. Connection, always connection, that’s what ruled me, and right now I felt like I had it. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Forever and ever?”

Millie was a confident woman who knew what she wanted and went for it, but there was something almost childlike in her joke. I think I knew how she felt. When we put aside all of our different selves: worker, friend, brother, sister, daughter, son, underneath that was someone who had been there since we were kids.

Someone who wanted to be loved.

My arms locked tightly around her.

“Forever and ever,” I told her. “Now, how do you like your fish and chips?”

Chapter 50

Millie

Apparently being pregnant wasn’t so bad when you had three guys at your beck and call. Knox had wanted to drive me to work, but I’d insisted on taking myself to avoid suspicion, a plan that seemed like it was going to fail as I got out of my car. I couldn’t stop grinning, because apparently all it took was a bit of spoiling and multiple orgasms and I was my best self.

Right up until Charlie appeared.

“Well, good morning to you,” he said, appearing at my car door as I got out. “Can I interest milady in a croissant to go with her post-coital glow?”

“Post-coital…?” My hands slapped down on my cheeks and I looked around wildly, something that had his grin widening.

“Not post-coital?” he asked, his eyes glittering dangerously. “If Knoxy didn’t look after you right, I can help in that regard.”

He could. It was like being with Noah and Knox just reminded me of exactly how good it’d been. I resisted the urge to look him over more closely, wondering what fun we could get into, by reaching into the bag and grabbing the pastry.

Only to get hit hard by the ick.

“Nope, nope, nope.” I was frantically rubbing my hands on my pants to get the greasy residue off them.

“He didn’t look after you?” Charlie asked.

“No, them.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth and waved at the bag. The paper had big oily marks where the buttery pastry had sat, and somehow that had my guts roiling. Croissants were a decadent pleasure I adored, but apparently the baby didn’t. He quickly shoved the bag behind his back, but when I started coughing, bile rising, he tossed it into the back of his truck.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry.” A bottle of water was produced from somewhere, and that was exactly what I needed. Crisp, clean somehow, I drank the lot and then shot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry—”

“No need,” he replied. “I’m sorry. I thought you might like some breakfast. I figured they were fairly plain so they wouldn’t set you off.”

“Buttery…” I groaned, like that was a crime against humanity, not one of the best things about French cuisine. “Oh god, am I never going to be able to eat butter again?”

All my good mood dissipated rapidly as I stared into his eyes. Tears, stupid fat tears, formed in my eyes, and his brow creased.

“Of course you’ll be able to. Hey, hey…”

He wanted to pull me closer, to give me a hug, and that just made the tears fall for real. I was tired, of pretending that this wasn’t a thing, of having to get up every day and act like I had it together. I wanted to curl up and sleep on the office couch while someone else did the work, and I whined something to that effect.

“So quit.” He seemed to grow more enthusiastic about that idea by the second. “You don’t need this job, because Millie, we’ve got you. Knox is talking to a lawyer about setting up a trust for the kid?—”

“He is?”

Oh my god, get a goddamn grip I told myself, like that ever worked. I didn’t cry. Somehow, I’d gotten the “boys don’t cry” message, despite being a girl, but right now, trying to get a hold of myself was like trying to grab a live fish. My emotions were flip flopping everywhere and I couldn’t seem to get control.

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