Page 120 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
That's exactly what it was.
Lovemaking.
I don't think I've ever experienced anything so intimate or profound. Tasting each other, holding each other—the connection went deeper than our bodies. It felt like our souls had touched, merged, become something greater than either of us alone.
That's officially the corniest thought I've ever had in my life. Who the hell are you, Grayson Wolfe?
I chuckle at myself and feel Jenna stir beside me, her hair tickling my chest. When I glance down and meet her big green eyes, the soft glow in them melts away my self-mockery.
What the hell. I'm in love. I'm allowed to be a little corny.
Her hand drifts over my chest, fingers tracing across my sternum. I catch her hand and guide it higher, pressing her palm over my heart.
I want her to feel how hard it beats for her.
A part of her still doesn't believe this is real. Maybe she thinks it's all some grand scheme—a manipulation to protect my CEO seat. I hope, deep down, she realizes I'd never lie about something this important.
Sure, it's only been a few months—weeks, really. I've never fallen this fast before.
Then again, I've never met anyone like Jenna. I've never felt such instant connection. Even with Marina—much as I loved her—our feelings took time to grow.
With Jenna, from the first moment, it felt like we'd known each other forever.
I've never believed in soulmates, but something about her feels… familiar. I know her quirks, her rhythms, her moods. I can predict when she'll roll her eyes or break into that soft laugh. I know that when she rubs the back of her neck, she's getting tired, and when she tosses her head from side to side, she's psyching herself up to push through it anyway.
Sometimes she wants to rest but won't let herself, so I have to step in, usually by annoying her until she gives in.
It's strange how I already know her as well as I know myself, yet every new detail about her still excites me.
What else could this be but love?
I've tried every logical explanation and eliminated them all. I'm a rational man, and there are three things I'm certain of right now:
I love Jenna. She's mine. I'll do anything to keep her.
I should probably be furious about losing my CEO role, but I'm surprised by how little I care. It's almost liberating, realizing I no longer carry that weight.
As strange as it sounds, I'm content. I should be losing my mind, but instead I'm at peace—lying here with the woman of my dreams in my arms.
Then I feel her stiffen. Tension ripples through her muscles, undoing the calm of a moment ago. Something's wrong.
"I… need to tell you something," she says quietly.
"What about?" I ask.
She takes a breath and sits up, slipping from my hold.
I reach for her hand, not ready to let go completely.
Her face is troubled. I brush my fingers against her cheek, hoping to calm her, to show her that whatever it is, she's safe with me. There's nothing she could tell me now that would change how I feel.
"Go ahead," I tell her gently. "Whatever it is, just say it."
I expect some confession about her past, or maybe that she thinks things are moving too fast—that she's not ready for love yet. I could handle that. I'd wait as long as it took, because I know I can make her fall in love with me completely. She's already halfway there, and I'm not letting her go. Not now. Not ever.
"I'm pregnant."
For a second, I don't even register the words. I'm still half lost in the play of moonlight across her skin, tracing lazy circles on her palm with my thumb.
