Page 83 of Sapphire Tears

As though I have the right to be disappointed.

As if I have a stake in the game.

As if I am the father of her baby.

I want to give her the respect of an honest answer. But hearing her say those words… I feel something completely different.It’s a girl.Not relief or satisfaction. Just an overwhelming sense of contentment, mixed in with the achiest bit of fear.

It’s a girl.

“Disappointed?” I echo, cupping her face with both my hands. “June, this is the least disappointed I’ve ever been in my whole entire life.”

Her face lights up instantly. She looks as though I’ve just made all her dreams come true. It still amazes me how easy it is to make this woman happy. She’d turn her nose up at roses, jewelry, designer dresses.

But she turns to putty in the face of sincerity.

The truth is what makes her heart sing.

She smiles, but it doesn’t last long. “I’m worried… for my daughter. What if… what if she wants more than this? What if she wants a different kind of life?”

It’s the same question I asked about Adrian. I’ll be damned if I can predict what this little girl will want from the world. But I know what I’ll give her.

I slide my fingers across June’s cheek. “This child can have whatever life she wants.”

June claps a hand over her mouth to hold back the tears. But I’m not done.

“She wants to learn music? I’ll send her to Julliard. She wants to save penguins? We’ll sail to Antarctica. She wants to go to the moon? I’ll build her a fucking rocket ship and take her there myself.”

“To the moon?” June whispers, her features softening with tenderness.

“To the moon.”

She pushes herself up on her toes and kisses me. Her lips are soft and tender and beautifully desperate. They fill me up and calm me down.

Her hands land on my chest and start working their way down. I ignore the pangs of pain lancing through my side and wrap an arm around her. I pull her flush against my body, before I push her against the glass doors that look onto the balcony.

She’s wearing a flimsy blouse that accentuates her curves, but she may as well be wearing nothing at all. My cock strains against my sweats, though they have enough give to ensure she’s feeling everything I’m feeling for her.

She bites on my bottom lip while I thrust my erection between her thighs. I want her so goddamn bad—but my body has other ideas. One thrust too many and I feel the hot spurt of stitches ripping, blood gushing, pain exploding. I hiss and have to grab the wall to stop from collapsing to my knees.

She jerks her lips away from mine. “Oh, shit!”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she says, with finality. Then she pushes me off her and rearranges her blouse. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“We don’t have to stop.”

She smiles. “You need to recover first. And then…”

She leaves the sentence unfinished. A tease, as always. But I can hear the promise in her voice as she gives me a shy, suddenly self-conscious smile. “You shouldn’t even be standing.”

“Bed rest is bullshit.”

Her smile grows deeper. “When’s the last time you relaxed?”

“I don’t know—my mother’s womb?”

The words leave my mouth automatically. And only then do I realize the irony of what I’ve just said. June seems to notice the same thing. She takes my arm and leads me to the bed.

---