Page 110 of Enticing the Fixer

Her nose wrinkles as she drops her arms to her sides. “Fine. Let me find something for us to eat.” She trudges to the kitchen and stops at the threshold. In the sink are dried pots and pans from when I cooked our meal. Mac stops beside her and rubs his head against her thigh. “Mac, did you do this?”

He pants and wags his tail, thumping it on the floor.

“Well, even if you didn’t, you’re a fantastic dog.” She scratches his head. Once she’s satisfied his need for connection, he traipses to the food bowl, I had delivered to her place.

I brush past her and retrieve the covered dish from the warmed oven. “I hope you like Tortellini with chicken and vegetables. It’s supposed to be a good meal for a pregnant woman.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Money brings the convenience of home delivery. My brother dropped off the ingredients, and I’ve read cookbooks before.”

She grabs the top rail of the wooden kitchen chair in front of her. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“What is?”

“Your money. You, cooking. You, treating me like a wounded pampered princess.”

“Babe.” I wink as I pull down two plates from the cabinet. “I won’t always treat you like a wounded pampered princess.” I glance at my watch. “In less than five hours, I’m treating you like a dirty, pampered princess. I’m going to be on my knees worshipping at your throne.”

She shivers, and heat fills her eyes. The anticipation zinging between us could be used to power the city. “I could use a thorough tongue worshiping, but I need a shower and to brush my teeth.”

“Yes.” I press my lips together and nod. “Yes. You do.”

“Asshole.” She laughs and punches me in the stomach.

“I’m the asshole who loves you.” I pull out her chair from under the sturdy oak table. “Now, sit and eat so you can shower. I’m dying from the longest case of blue balls in history.”

“Not hardly. It’s only been a day.”

“A day with you wiggling and moaning on top of me.” I shake my head in mock horror. “A man can only handle so much.”

After she sits, she grabs my hand and holds tight. “Thank you.” The sheen of tears in her eyes makes my stomach cramp. “Thank you for not leaving and for holding me. You didn’t have to stick around. I’m sure you had other things to do, but I–”

“You’re my only priority. Whenever you or our baby needs me, I’ll be there.”

“When you held me, the bad dreams disappeared.” She swallows. “I don’t know how long I’ll struggle with this.”

I squat beside her chair. “My brother has PTSD from the military. It comes and goes. Some days are worse than others. And some days, you don’t know he’s ever had a care in the world. He’s gone to counseling, and that helped when he wasn’t being a stubborn asshole. His friends and family make it easier on him. I don’t expect you to sweep it all under the rug and be fine. I have thick skin and broad shoulders. Together we’ll handle anything life throws at us.”

She pokes my bicep.

“What?”

“Just checking to see if you were a hologram.” She frowns and pokes harder. “Or a robot. I’ve seen videos of those robots.” She pinches my skin. “Are you sure that you’re real? It doesn’t matter how often I ask you this, I’m still struggling to believe someone didn’t take my wildest fantasies and conjure you up.”

“Yes, I’m real.” I stand, adjusting my jeans to keep my erection from cutting off my circulation or stabbing her in the eye. “And if you’d hurry up, eat, and quit distracting me with all this talking, I’d show you.”

“You’re incorrigible.” She grabs a napkin off the table, wads it up, and throws it at me.

I snatch it out of the air and roll it righter into a ball. “State champion baseball player.” I zing it across the room, hit the trashcan and it drops to the floor. “Hey, I was a pitcher, not a miracle worker.”

“Nice. Smart. Sexy. A jock.” She gnaws on her bottom lip, eyeing me up and down. “And rich. Damn, I picked good at the bar that night. It was between you and the bartender.” She angles her head sideways. “I think I chose wisely.”

“You’re damn right you did.” I amble over to the stove and grab her food and a fork. “If you would have propositioned August, I would have had to beat his ass in front of God and everyone.”

She laughs as she lays her forearms on the table. “This looks so good.”

Seeing her sense of humor returning gives me hope. It took months for my brother to laugh at anything, and he still doesn’t see the humor in much.

---