Page 42 of Forbidden Vows

“So, the closet, yeah—” He nods to the closet doors, like I’m going to let him change the subject this soon. “The Beauties are serious about their clothing and beauty products,” he explains. “They even have their own workout gear line: The Beehive.”

Wait. The Beehive? My attention turns from the baby-making, STD-testing machine to the closet he’s trying to show me.

Curiosity wins.

“These are the leggings with the bumblebee emblem on the hip?” I remember I’m holding a pair. I point to the cute little yellow and white emblem. “These aretheirs?”

His brows lift. “You’re familiar with the brand?”

“I don’t work out, but they’re super popular with the active women in the city.” The wealthy ones, at least. I’ve never stepped foot in the store, knowing I couldn’t afford the luxury goods. Their tagline islike you’re naked.

“The ladies here love them. I hope you do, too. If not, we can get you something else…”

“No way!” I assure him. “It’s perfect. This is wonderful.” I stretch up on tiptoe, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek.

He slips an arm around my waist, bringing me in close. “Forgive me for last night?”

I should be madder than I am.

A good reminder to have the ‘rules’ conversation with him ASAP. “The closet kinda makes up for it.”

“Good.” He gives my ass a series of soft pats, the feeling going straight between the tops of my thighs. “Don’t forget about my rules.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper.

He leaves me with a smile, going back to his room to shower and dress.

I have to stand there, taking a few deep breaths to recover from…well, him. His sexiness. His apparent nonchalance about having a baby with me. His thoughtfulness in preparing the closet. Once my pulse returns to normal, I dress. The clothing is comfortable and well-fitting. The leggings truly feel like I’m wearing nothing at all.

I still feel slightly shy about the long-sleeve crop top I’m wearing under the sweatshirt, which shows part of my soft midriff. I typically don’t wear fitted clothing that reveals my body. Hopefully, I won’t get too warm and take the sweatshirt off.

We meet downstairs in the grand foyer. His hair is damp from his shower. He wears a light long-sleeved sweater and jeans. He looks long at my black leggings, his gaze heating my blood.“Daaaaang.Your ass looks scrumptious. Like a ripe peach.”

“So,” I brightly change the subject from my scrumptious bottom, a topic he seems obsessed with. Though I’m flattered. “What’s on the schedule for the day? Do you have to work?”

“Here and there,” he shrugs. “But I took the day off to get you settled.”

“Thanks,” I say. “That was kind of you.”

He starts towards the back of the house, and I walk beside him as he tells me about the day. “I thought we could have breakfast in the garden; OJ and toast, a slight smear of strawberry jam, no butter.”

Okay. He’s totally forgiven. And I think I’m getting feels.

Then he tops his planned breakfast menu, saying, “After we eat, I wanted your opinion on some paint colors.” I would only trust those closest to me with such a big decision.

I am going to have his babies, aren’t I?

Stop. It. Cleo.

“I’m honored,” I say. “Paint is everything.”

“I’m glad you’re here to help. I had no idea there were so many shades of white.” His green eyes sparkle with mischief. “I guess you can’t go wrong, as long as you don’t wear it to someone else’s wedding.”

I accept the barb gracefully. “Ha. Ha.”

“Teasing.” He shoots me a grin. “After breakfast, we can waste some time painting samples on the wall, get into trouble, have dinner with the ‘rents, the bestie, Haze, Ophelia, Liam, and Emilia.”

I’m terrible at small talk. Thank goodness Seraphina will be with me. “I can’t wait to meet everyone. Think mom and dad will make it out of their bedroom?”

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