Chapter 13
Mariah
I’m not sure what’s more shocking. That Titus figured out I’m pregnant…
Or that he’s sort of referring to us as a team.
Us. He wants us to find out how to stop me from passing out.
It would be a lot to process anyway, but since I’m filled to the brim with hormones that are wreaking havoc on both my libido and my emotions, hearing him insinuate I’m not completely alone has me tearing up and my breath hitching.
“Shit.” Titus’s forehead falls to mine, his eyes slipping closed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t have said anything.” His lids lift, expression filled with more emotion than I know what to do with when he says, “Please don’t cry.”
I swallow at the tightness in my throat, trying to get it together. “I’m not upset.” I don’t know how to explain what I am though. That seems to be getting more and more complicated with each passing day.
I should have let Titus stay in his rooms. Should have left him to his own devices and gone about my business.
Maybe if I hadn’t paid attention to him, he wouldn’t have paid attention to me.
We wouldn’t have exchanged notes. Texted most of the night.
He wouldn’t have held me so carefully the day I passed out.
He wouldn’t be holding me the same way now.
I manage a deep breath, stifling the hiccup that attempts to slip free so I sound convincing. “I’m okay. Just a little overwhelmed.”
Understatement.
Of.
The.
Century.
Because being this close to Titus, held tight and treated like I matter—like he cares… It’s making me think real problematic thoughts. The kind that have messed up my life over and over again. The kind I swore I wouldn’t think anymore.
I should have learned my lesson when Jeb turned out to be just another frog in the pond. Should have probably learned my lesson on the ten frogs before him, but the power of positive thinking definitely didn’t miss me.
Titus’s expression is filled with understanding, which is odd considering the topic of conversation. “I can imagine.” His gaze moves over my face and I could swear it seems to linger on my mouth for a heartbeat before jumping to meet mine. “Can I ask you a question?”
I guess he might as well. Keeping secrets obviously isn’t my strong suit. “Sure.”
Titus clears his throat, his hold on me loosening the tiniest bit. “The guy who did this…” Now his eyes are everywhere but my face, drifting around the room like he suddenly doesn’t want to look at me. “Is he still around?”
Shaking my head, I admit, “No.” I take a deep breath as shame burns my cheeks. “He pretty much vanished right after claiming the baby wasn’t his.”
His wayward focus narrows, snapping right back to my face. “So he just left you to handle this all on your own?” Titus’s voice is tight. Sharp. Like he’s angry for me.
And that does just as much for me as everything else about him. The man is way too appealing for my own good.
“Honestly, it’s probably better that way.” I try to reassure him with a smile. “My dad hung around for a little while out of obligation, but it would’ve been better if he’d just walked away from the beginning.”
Then maybe I wouldn’t be the way I am. I wouldn’t always smile to make everyone else comfortable. Go out of my way to please them. Be as happy as possible hoping the people I let close stick around.
I wouldn’t chase men who didn’t want me.
Just like always, I smile, still hoping it will make a man like me. “It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” I realize I have to qualify that a little differently now. “The baby and I will be okay.”
Titus is quiet for a minute before tipping his head in a slight nod. “I know you will.” He turns to the house again, eyes narrowing as he takes in the space around us. “I probably need to order cabinet locks and those little plastic things for all the outlets, don’t I?”
Again, my eyes burn, but I don’t want him to know how ridiculous I am, so I blink back the threat of tears, my smile turning genuine. “I think there’s plenty of time to figure out where the baby and I will live.”
Titus’s brows pinch, his left one moving much more naturally than his right. “You’ll live here. That’s part of your employment package.” Titus tips his head, like he’s thinking. “If you’re worried about the stairs, I’m sure I can have an addition put on the first floor—”
The offer is so genuine, so real, that without thinking, I lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. No one has ever tried to give me what I need, let alone what I want. I hope Titus knows how much it means to me that he does. How much I appreciate that he pays attention and listens and cares.
Titus turns his head, bringing our faces close. “What was that for?” He sounds genuinely confused. Like he can’t fathom why I would be grateful to him.
“For thinking of me.” It’s a simple answer for a complicated set of emotions.
Titus’s hand comes up to my face, smoothing over my cheek in a reverent touch. “I always think of you.”
I sit perfectly still, barely able to breathe as Titus continues stroking my skin, the warmth of the connection gliding along my jaw before bracketing just beneath it. The pad of his thumb rests under my chin, exerting the tiniest bit of pressure.
Swallowing hard, I give in to it, tipping my head back. His breath is warm against my face as he studies me, almost looking perplexed. Like he’s not quite sure how we ended up here.
Then, in a movement so slow it’s almost painful, Titus closes the gap between us, meeting the firm line of his mouth to mine. The contact is barely a whisper of a touch. One that’s gone so fast I could probably convince myself it didn’t happen.
Not that I think I’ll be doing that. In fact, I expect to be replaying that split second over and over. Reading into it. Wondering what it meant. Imagining where it could lead.
Because it’s what I always do.
The thumb Titus has under my chin shifts, sliding up to brush across my lower lip. He watches the movement, focused in a way that makes it hard to breathe.
“I’m going to ask you something, Mariah, and I want you to tell me the truth.” His gaze lifts, lids heavy as it pins me in place. "Can you be honest with me?"
My head bobs in a nod, moving all on its own since every bit of brainpower I have goes into the whispered, yes, I manage to offer.
"Can I—”
Whatever Titus is about to ask is cut off by the fucking doorbell. I swear to God, if he’s ordered more shit and it’s some delivery man interrupting what is the most oddly intense moment of my life, I'm not sure who I'll kill first. The delivery man.
Or Titus.
"Hello?" The voice that rings through the house drops my stomach to my toes and has me scrambling out of Titus’s lap so fast lightning couldn't catch me.
By the time Deidre enters the great room, I’m on my feet, smiling.
And debating if my murder plan applies to her.
"Hey, guys." Her eyes drift to where Titus sits on the couch. "How’s everything going?"
Deidre calls Titus on a regular basis, but I've noticed she doesn't come over often, and I have to guess it’s because there hasn’t been much of a point.
I'm sure he would come out of his room for her, but Titus still isn’t exactly the most social person, so I'm guessing conversations with him were probably short and hard earned.
So I have to assume she came here to see me, and that makes me want to throw up.
And not in the morning sickness sort of way.
In the ‘I’ve got a secret and have to tell her at some point’ sort of way.
"Things are going good." It takes a little bit of work, but I manage to push what just happened between Titus and me to the back of my mind. "I was getting ready to start dinner. Would you like to stay and eat with us?"
Again, Deidre's eyes move from me to Titus, then back to where I stand.
"I wish I could, but I have a roast in the oven.
" The words come out oddly stilted. Slow and drawn out.
"I just wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything.
" She takes in the room around her, looking over the recent furniture additions.
"But it seems like Titus is making sure you're taken care of. "
I don't know what happens, but somehow my throat spasms at that exact moment, and I start to cough.
Choking on nothing but the double meaning of her words.
Because I'm almost positive Titus was going to ask if he could kiss me again.
I might be wrong, but I don't think so. And I know for a fact that if I said yes—and I would have said yes—it wouldn’t have stopped at just a kiss.
For a whole slew of reasons, I would have gobbled up anything he was willing to give me.
And probably still wanted more.
Instead, I'm standing in front of his mother, fire climbing up my neck and across my cheeks, as I think about all the ways her son could make sure I'm taken care of.
Titus stands but doesn't come close to me. He stays an acceptable—professional—distance away as he addresses his mother. "Did you need anything else?"
"Actually…" Deidre gives me a smile. "Part of the reason I came was to see if you wanted me to bring one of the side-by-sides over here.
I heard you finally got to meet the rest of my boys, and thought you should have a way to easily get around the property in case you wanted to go visit any of them. "
"If she wants to go visit any of them, I'll take her." Titus steps forward, this time narrowing the space between us. "I ordered her a side-by-side a few days ago. They're delivering it tomorrow."
After a lifetime of men who couldn't even be bothered to remember my birthday or an anniversary of any sort, having someone provide anything I could need or want without being asked is sort of overwhelming.
And terrifying. Because, if I could convince myself those twerps were Prince Charmings, I can only imagine what my dreamy little brain will decide Titus is.
And that has alarm bells going off. Sirens wailing that I need to be careful. Need to be smart. Need to be realistic.
Not my strong suits.
"That is wonderful news." Deidre gives her attention to Titus, her smile a little different than I've seen before. "That means you can come to family dinner night too."
Titus opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a second. He looks... Displeased.
And because I don't want him to be displeased, I pull his mother's attention my way. "Family dinner night?"
When Deidre turns to me, her smile is back to normal. Genuine and warm. "Yes. Ted and I were talking and we've decided it would be so wonderful to host all our boys for dinner one night a week." She reaches out, resting a hand on my shoulder. "And, of course, that would include you."
I glance at Titus. He still looks not thrilled, but I don’t think there's an easy way out of this, so I nod.
"That sounds really nice." I can tell he doesn’t agree, but I guess we can always try to worm our way out when his mother isn't standing right in front of us.
"When are you thinking of starting this? "
Without hesitation, Deidre says, "Tomorrow."
That is… really soon. It doesn't give me much time to mentally prepare for an evening surrounded by Titus’s family, but there's no way we can not go, and I would never make him go alone. Not when the idea of a family dinner makes him look so grumpy.
"Can we bring anything? Dessert?" I never show up at a dinner party empty-handed, and I sure as heck don't want to show up to a dinner party thrown by Deidre Bradshaw empty-handed. But I also don't want to step on her toes and bring something that would clash with what she has planned.
"Dessert would be lovely." She gives my shoulder a squeeze before backing away. "Bring whatever sounds good to you." She gives me a wink. "But I have heard some talk about a caramel cake, so I'm sure that wouldn't be unappreciated."
"Perfect." I glance over and notice Titus’s scowl has deepened. It must not be an uncommon expression from him, because his mother is unfazed. She's still smiling as she waves goodbye and walks to the front door, letting herself out the same way she let herself in.
I turn to Titus, trying to figure out how to alleviate some of his displeasure. "You don't have to go. I can go alone and—”
"Abso-fucking-lutely not." He shakes his head, stepping toward me. "No way are you going into the lion’s den alone."
His assessment of dinner at his mother's house makes me smile. "I would hardly call your mother a lion.”
Sure, she’s a force. Strong and confident and capable. But I don’t worry about her trying to eat my face off.
"I'm not talking about my mother." He lifts one hand like he's going to reach for me, but then it drops. "And I really can't get out of this. Not after what happened at Thanksgiving. She’ll never forgive me."
My brows pinch as I stare up at him. "What happened at Thanksgiving?"
One corner of Titus’s mouth tips up. "I'm sure you’ll hear all about it tomorrow.
" He lifts his hand again, but this time it comes to rest against my back.
"Let's go see what we have in the kitchen to make for dessert tomorrow.
" Titus’s scowl is back as he follows me through the house.
"Because there's no way the rest of those assholes are trying your caramel cake. Then I'll never get rid of them."