Page 18 of Married to the SEAL
The clothing in her closet could have belonged to a stranger, so different were her proportions and figure than they used to be. Where she had once been flat, she was now curvy; where she had once been curvy, she was now lushly endowed. She slipped a sideways glance at the maid. “Is it too much?”
The young girl’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. You look ravishing.”
Grace looked back at her reflection. “Ravishing?” She turned away from the mirror and opened her clutch, checking to be sure she had everything.
What should the bride bring to a fake wedding reception?
She snapped it shut.
“Is there anything else you’ll be needing?” asked Trudy.
“Yes, please. Bring me the baby so I can feed him before I go.”
“Of course.”
Bring me the baby.
She’d only been back in her father’s house a few days, and already it had changed the way she mothered her own child. The security was necessary. The space was not.
After his birth, she’d spent eleven days alone with her new son and could count on her fingers the number of times he’d been separated from her body. She nursed him, cuddled him, and slept beside him, breathing in his sweet breath and enjoying the slowing of time.
Now Nico had his own room across the hall and there were other people to tend to him. What had started as a mere convenience was now feeling like a wedge designed to separate her from her child.
Stop it. No one here is trying to distance you from your son.
Even still, she decided he would spend tonight with her, in her bed.
Will Matteo be in your bed, too?
An electric thrill ran up her spine and she quickly shook her head. No. He could sleep on the floor.
She remembered the heat that had rushed between her legs at the first touch of his lips on hers. It’d been too long since she’d been with a man. She’d been too lonely, too desperate for a man’s comforting touch.
That explained her reaction.
Just the other day her obstetrician gave her the green light to have sex again, and Grace had laughed, a hysterical sort of giggle as she was struck by the difference between her life when she’d gotten pregnant and her life today. She’d gone from what she thought was a committed relationship to a veritable self-imposed cloister.
She wouldn’t be having sex anytime soon.
Kissing Matteo had tapped into the well of lust that had been filling since her lover disappeared. It wasn’t that she wanted that man. She was hormonal and emotionally wrecked, combustible material everywhere, and he was a match.
Yes. That must be it.
The door opened and the maid entered, quickly settling the babe in Grace’s arms.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she whispered to her son, all other thoughts vanishing in an instant. She would never get over her awe of this child, the weight of his sweet little body, the warmth of him against her skin. He was nuzzling her chest with his face and she smiled happily before sitting down, removing the strap of her dress, and offering him her breast.
She leaned back and began to rock.
God, it felt good to have that strap off her shoulder. With the added heft of her engorged bosom, it was digging into her uncomfortably. She sighed. It was going to be a long night, both physically and emotionally.
She took in the baby’s features, letting her finger smooth over his dark brow, noting its familiar shape. It was not the only place she saw her lover in their child. Nico also had his father’s full lips and long eyelashes.
She closed her eyes tightly. She would not think about him tonight. This evening was going to be hard enough without opening that particular Pandora’s box.
The baby’s tiny hand fisted her skin and he made a contented humming sound. She could do this forever, but she was all too aware of the crowd gathering downstairs and the maid waiting to collect her son.
There was a knock at the door and she covered herself. Would she never be able to nurse her baby in peace? “Come in.”
