Page 94 of The Woman at the Funeral

“As of six months ago, I was too,” he told me, fingertips grazing my hip. “And I have always been careful. But it’s not just that I’m talking about.”

“Right,” I agreed, but couldn’t muster a single bit of concern about that.

“I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t be upset about it, if that happens. We both want that eventually.” He paused. “I know it doesn’t fit in with your plan for engagement, marriage, and then babies. But there are happy surprises that don’t fit into plans.”

My heart felt full to bursting at that.

“Besides,” I agreed, pressing a kiss to his chest before sliding on top of him, “what are the chances?”

My lips claimed his.

And we were lost for hours in each other.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Blair

We wouldn’t have come up for air if not for Nico’s burner phone screaming from the living room.

“Brio,” Nico said.

At the same time, I gasped, “Goya!”

“You stay here just like this. I’ll go get him,” Nico said, moving from under the blankets.

Nico was slow-moving as he slipped back into his clothes.

I won’t lie.

I took a bit of pleasure in knowing I’d been the one to sap all that energy out of him.

“I’ll pick up dinner,” he called just before the door slammed.

Alone, I starfished across the bed, beaming at the ceiling where a baby started to fuss, then cry.

My hand slid to my belly, wondering if or when I could feel my own there, growing, kicking, getting ready to come out into my arms. While I sat nestled in Nico’s strong ones.

This time, the warmth didn’t just spread across my chest, but through my whole body.

I let myself lie there and enjoy it for a few long moments. Then, finally, I climbed out of bed to take a quick shower, washing off all the sweat. I wanted to be fresh for the next round.

I slipped into panties, then one of Nico’s shirts. It was comically oversized on me, but I loved the feel of it as I moved around the kitchen, preparing Goya’s dinner, then setting out place settings for Nico and me at the table.

I even found the emergency candles in the supply closet and set them up for a bit of ambiance.

When I heard the knock, I didn’t think anything of it. I figured Nico had his hands full with Goya and the bags for dinner.

There wasn’t really any time to regret that decision, either. Because as soon as the locks disengaged, the door flew open, knocking into me so hard I stumbled backward.

Disoriented from the slam to my forehead, I tripped over my own shoes and went flying.

I couldn’t even cry out before I collided with the wall before falling to the floor.

Pain exploded through my hip and head.

But before the shock could even wear off, hands were grabbing me and flipping me over onto my stomach.

I started to cry out, but a hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming me into the floor.

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