Page 99 of Traitor

It wasn’t exactly something I could share with him.‘Hey, Lauren’s severely depressed over our infertility issues, but come on by and bring your pregnant wife, just to rub more salt in the wound.’

David looked down at his watch before standing up. “I’ve got to get over to meet an inspector on one of my sites. We have a gift for Lauren; could we run it by later tonight?”

I shook my head quickly. “Just give it to me now and I’ll take it home.”

“I’ll just grab it then. You sure everything’s okay?” David gave me another strange look.

I nodded. “I’ve been up most of the night and am kind of in the middle of ten different things. It’s just bad timing, that’s all.”

He slapped me on the shoulder. “Okay. I’ll just get it out of my truck and be right back.”

There was no way that I was letting them stop by tonight and announce their pregnancy, crushing her on her birthday. She didn’t need that shit. Tonight was about letting her know how fucking important she was to me, regardless of whether or not we could have kids. I had her and that had always been enough.

David brought the gift bag in, checking to make sure I was okay once more before leaving.

I sat at my desk for another four hours, staring mindlessly at the computer screen, before giving up any pretenses of being productive.

I grabbed my suit jacket and headed out, needing to clear my head and find a way to fix things.

It was a little after four when I got home to find Lauren fast asleep on the couch.

I kissed her on top of the head. “Hey, Birthday Girl. It’s time to wake up.”

She gave me a sleepy smile and sat up. “I must’ve dozed off watchingThe Pioneer Lady.”

I pointed to the television screen. “Uh, Red? It’sThe Pioneer Woman—and since when do you watch cooking shows?”

She shrugged. “I need to learn. We can’t eat out all the time.”

Now, I was getting really concerned. The last thing I needed was for her to burn the fucking house down in an attempt to learn how to cook. It had taken forever to get rid of the burned spaghetti smell.

I also knew that if I told her any of that, she’d burst into tears and any chance of me getting her out of the house tonight would be gone. So, I led with, “Well, Darlin’, that’s why God made grills. I can keep you fed just fine with that.”

“I just feel like it’s time I learned.”

I pulled her hand. “C’mon, Rachael Ray. Up off the couch. I’ve got plans for us.”

Lauren immediately began shaking her head, trying to move back to the comfort of the couch. The damn thing was starting to take on the imprint of her body. “No, no. We said no plans—I said that, didn’t I?”

I kept a tight grip on her hand, moving us both toward the stairs. “Alright, no need to go full-redhead on me. I just thought it’d be good for us to get out of the house for the night—switch things up.”

Her eyes began to fill and I silently cursed myself for trying to force her out of her comfort zone, but then she did something that shocked the hell out of me. “Okay. Do I need to dress up or am I okay like this?”

I led her up the stairs, suddenly feeling like she was made of glass. “It’s pretty fucking chilly out there, so let’s find you a sweater and some leggings or some shit.”

I dug around in the closet and came out with some black leather leggings and a blue hoodie. Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, chewing the corner of her lip, a look of confusion on her face. “Um, Mike? What the hell are you doing?”

I held up the clothes. “What? What’s wrong with this?”

She walked over and took them from my hands. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” Then she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss against my mouth. “And I love you for it. Let me find something.”

I took her place on the bed and watched as she put the leggings back on a hanger and reached for a pair of jeans. Watching her get undressed was something I would never grow tired of seeing.

And it wasn’t just because of her fantastic tits. She was so comfortable in her own skin—always had been around me. I was the only man who would ever see her like this. My cock grew hard and I adjusted myself through my slacks, willing him to calm the fuck down.

“Tonight isn’t about you,” I warned.

Lauren turned to me. “What’d you say?”

---