Chapter 18 #2
She laughed. “Usually nice people don’t have to assure other people that they’re nice.”
“Admit it, this will be a perfect location, a perfect nursery, and here—” He motioned for her to come with him. “Here will be my bedroom.”
“And when you’re seventeen and a half months pregnant and your back hurts, you can lie in this.” He pointed to the enormous soaker tub.
Her eyes went wide. “Whoa.”
Double doors had already been flung open to an enormous ensuite bathroom that had a sauna with a child lock already installed, a huge soaker tub, and large shower.
“Why did Sam and Patty even have such a big tub? They’re so tiny,” Allison said, still bewildered.
“Based on the hooks in the bedroom ceiling, I think Sam and Patty were more adventurous than you know,” Wells said, raising an eyebrow.
Allison put her hands over her ears. “Argh, they were like my parents.”
Wells loved seeing her reactions, and he caught sight of his smiling reflection in the bathroom mirror. He schooled his expression into one that didn’t look so delighted by her.
Allison’s long fingers ran the length of the tub. “It would be nice. Violet said the only thing that made her feel better the last month of her pregnancy was being able to swim.”
He thought of all the ways he could have an enjoyable evening with her in this bathroom: in the large walk-in steam shower, in this tub, hell, in the sauna.
“So…I guess I pay you from now on?”
“Sure. Just make it out to me for sexual services rendered.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes, but he swore he saw a ghost of a smile there. She turned to go and he caught her pinky with his. She slowly turned back around.
“How are you feeling about trying again?” he said, meeting her eyes.
Wells had noted when she’d be ovulating again so he could clear his schedule.
He was secretly craving her—her scent, the feel of her, holding her. She hadn’t pulled her hand away, and the weight of her pinky in his anchored him.
She looked away.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he said, catching her eye.
Stress radiated off of her.
He’d thought she was mad, initially—just mad that he hadn’t talked to her—but there was something else hiding underneath there.
“What if you did all of this…” Her voice wobbled. “And I still can’t…we don’t—I mean, I’ve had several months of trying on my own, and then we tried lots of times last month.”
“I wouldn’t call five a lot.” He smiled mischievously.
“This feels really permanent,” she said, looking around the big bathroom. “And what if this…isn’t? What if I can’t get pregnant?” She finally met his eyes, looking nervous.
He pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first, but slowly relaxed into him. The best feeling in the world was her hands coming up around his waist.
“It’s a beautiful house either way,” he murmured into her hair.
He let himself wallow in the scent of it, only rubbing his face back and forth one time.
“Plus, I needed to live somewhere that wasn’t my childhood bedroom.
But—” He pulled back, wiping away a tear running down her cheek.
“We’re a long way from giving up. We’ve only had one month. ”
“Yeah?”
There was the barest hint of her leaning into his hand as he wiped the last remnants of tears from her cheek.
It did something to his insides that he didn’t like.
“Yeah,” he said.
She stepped away, and he bit off a moan, not liking the feeling of her leaving his arms. “So when should we start month number two?” he said, clearing his throat, scratching the back of his head.
“I start ovulating in a couple of days. Can you have this chaos sorted by then, or should you come over to my place?”
“Oh, it’ll be sorted,” he said, accepting the challenge.
He’d finally have his headboard, and he couldn’t wait to show her the tricks he had up his sleeve. “Know which gift you’re bringing over?” He’d wondered if she’d tried any yet.
The instant pink tint on Allison’s face gave her away. Jackpot.
He thought about saying to hell with being in an official ovulation window—he’d lock the door and take her right now.
“Not yet,” she said finally, not meeting his eyes.
“If you do find one”—he hooked a finger through her belt loop and tugged her close—“bring it with you when you come over in three days.” Her hands ran up his chest, and he wanted to sink into how she touched him.
Her eyes were trained on his mouth. “My ovulation window starts in four days.”
His hands fanned out over her hips. “Does it hurt to get started a little early?”
“Like now?” she whispered.
Fuck.
His jaw ticked as he pulled her hips toward him—
“Hey, we got a question,” one of the movers said, knocking on the bedroom door, and Allison jumped back a foot and a half.
Christ. His heart was hammering against his rib cage.
“Yeah. Be right there,” Wells said, then took two steps toward the open door to follow the mover.
But then he decided fuck it, spun back around, slid his hand up Allison’s jaw, and kissed her thoroughly.
After a split second, she kissed him back, his tongue swiping along her lower lip and into her mouth, and he moaned at the taste of her.
Her little whimpering sigh as she pressed into him was his new drug of choice. He wanted it seeping into his veins.
He pulled back hard. “Three days,” he ordered.
She nodded.
“Good,” he said, leaving before he did something stupid, like locking the door and taking her right there with movers in the house.