Page 41 of Can We Try?

“Just unlock the door, Mags,” he says, chuckling under his breath.

I manage to get the door unlocked and turn the handle, and he steps inside, kicking it closed.

“Do you need anything from out here?” he asks.

“A water. I usually take one to bed with me every night.”

“Let’s get you in bed, and I’ll come back for it.” He takes off down the hall with only the dim shine of the lamp I left on while I was gone to light the way.

Finding his way in my dark bedroom, he carries me to the bed and lays me down gently. Reaching over, he turns on the lamp, illuminating the room in a soft glow. This time he doesn’t ask where my sleep clothes are. He goes to the dresser but can’t find what he’s looking for as he digs around. I know he’s looking for his T-shirt that I kept, but I’ve worn it the last few nights, and it’s in the dirty clothes.

“Where’s the shirt?”

“I have others.”

He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “I like knowing you’re sleeping in mine.”

“It’s dirty,” I confess, putting him out of the searching game he’s doing in my dresser drawer.

Calmly, he closes the drawer and moves back toward the bed. I watch him with rapt attention because he’s empty-handed. I’m not wearing his dirty shirt just to appease him. I’ve literally slept in it every night for a week. It was time to wash it. Expecting him to go looking in the hamper, I’m shocked when he pulls his shirt over his head and hands it to me.

“Wear this.”

“What are you going to wear?” I ask him as my eyes dart to his chest. I swallow hard to fight back my desire.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m sure I have another in my truck. If not?” He shrugs. “I’m going to let you change while I go get your water.” He turns and walks out of the room.

The first thing I do is bring his shirt to my face and inhale. He smells so damn good—sandalwood and something uniquely Lachlan. I should give him his shirt back, but the idea of sleeping all snuggled up with his scent surrounding me is just too damn tempting to pass up.

He comes back into the room a few minutes after I’m finished changing and gives me a sweet smile. “Looks better on you,” he says, placing the bottle of water on my nightstand. “Here.” He hands me my purse. “I thought you might want to charge your cell phone.”

“Thank you, Lachlan. You spoil me,” I tell him.

His hand touches the side of my cheek. “I enjoy taking care of you.”

“The baby,” I remind him.

“You and the baby,” he amends. “Do you have everything that you need?”

His words roll through my mind. You and the baby. Is he feeling this too? Is it possible that we can be more? I know the girls suggested I think about it and see what happens, but can we?

“Maggie? You okay?”

“Stay.” The word is out of my mouth before I can change it, and it very well might be the one word that changes our relationship. For better or worse, that’s yet to be seen.

“Are you feeling all right? Should we call the doctor?”

I place my hand over his that’s resting against my cheek. “I feel fine. It’s late, and I’ll worry about you driving home.”

“You really want me to stay?”

“I do.”

He leans over, his lips mere inches from mine. “Where do you want me to sleep, Mags?”

I swallow hard. “Beside me.” Two more words that have the power to make a huge impact.

He stares deep into my eyes, looking for what, I’m not sure, but he eventually nods. “Okay. Let me go lock up.” He stands to his full height, and his hand falls from my cheek as he leaves to lock up my house.

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