Page 101 of My Sweetest Obsession
Even more so when I’m buried inside her or she’s coming on my tongue.
But the popping sound behind me reminds me that I was in the middle of doing something before this stunning woman distracted me so thoroughly.
Reluctantly, I pull my head back. “I need to get this bacon off.”
She slips away from me and leans against the counter, watching and slowly rubbing at the spot on her belly where the baby seems to kick the most.
I glance back as I take off the crispy pieces and place them on a plate. “She is really active this morning, huh?”
She grins and looks down. “Yeah, she is.”
“Does it hurt?”
Her laugh floats through the kitchen, and she shakes her head, sending those dark, untamed locks flying. “Not really. At least, not yet. I’m sure when she gets bigger and there’s less space in here, it’s going to be a lot more uncomfortable. Occasionally, she’ll kick my bladder, or something else that certainly doesn’t feel great, but I wouldn’t say it hurts. It’s more like a reminder of, ‘Hey, Mom, I’m here.’ Like I could ever forget that when?—”
The doorbell ringing jerks both of our heads that direction.
I raise a brow. “We’re you expecting someone this morning?”
Ivy’s eyes widen, panic lacing them. “Oh, shit!”
“What?”
She slaps a hand over her mouth. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Ivy…”
Her hand falls away, and she gapes. “It’s your mom.”
Fuck.
“Really?”
She nods, her anxious gaze darting between me and the door, then back. “I totally forgot we were supposed to go shopping today, and like you said, I don’t usually sleep in this late. I assumed I’d be ready to go by nine.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Well, this could get awkward…”
Her bottom lip disappears under her teeth, and she shifts nervously. “What do we do?”
Something I should have done right from the beginning of all this—tell the fucking truth and face the fallout.
I walk over to Ivy and drop kiss on her forehead. “It’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t look wholly convinced, but I can’t make Mom stand out there on the porch in this cold weather any longer just so we can try to come up with some way to explain why I’m here.
It wouldn’t matter if we did; Nancy Usher would see right through it.
I’ve kept her in the dark about what has been going on with Ivy the last few months because she wouldn’t have understood it and would have been Team Dale—insistent that I cut off at least the sexual part of our relationship. But everything changed literally overnight. And there’s no use hiding from the truth anymore.
I make my way to the door and tug it open.
Mom jerks back slightly, her eyes wide as they take in my jeans, bare chest, and unruly hair that clearly suggest I spent the night here. “Oh, Cam…I…”—she tilts her head slightly, her brow furrowing—“wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I bet not.”
She steps inside the house, and I pull her in for a hug and kiss her cheek.
“Cam, what’s going on?”
