Chapter 19
Mariah
Iknew the reason Titus hid himself away would be painful, but this goes far beyond pain. Hearing what happened to his fiancée and baby is heartbreaking. Agonizing.
Unbearable.
I bear it anyway. Inhaling carefully so my breath doesn’t hitch. So he doesn’t have to deal with my tears in addition to his own suffering. I won’t do that to him.
I’m used to sucking it up and slapping on a smile, but this time it’s different. This time it’s not because I’m hiding my feelings—even if I am. It’s because I’m protecting Titus’s. Giving his emotions the space they need to exist. To expand, unhindered by the confines of my own.
I swallow hard, imagining how difficult it was for him to get that envelope from a medical examiner instead of an ultrasound tech. Resting one hand over his heart like I can hold the broken pieces of it together, I ask, "Did you pick out names?"
I don’t know if anyone ever makes space for him to talk about the child he lost. It’s probably an emotional subject for his family since they suffered a loss as well. I want to make that space for him. Let him remember both the baby and Kara without being smothered by someone else’s grief.
Titus clears his throat, but his voice is still rough when he says, "Elizabeth if it was a girl and Ethan if it was a boy."
I manage a small smile at that. "Were you going to use all E names for your kids?"
"We were."
His and Kara’s decision to use a version of his parents’ naming convention shows how thought out their life together was. How much they’d planned. Discussed.
And then it all fell apart, leaving Titus alone in the ashes.
I stroke down the front of his chest, wanting to soothe him. Needing to feel like I’m doing something to ease the suffering he’s wallowed in. And maybe the best way to do that is to lead him out of it. At least for now. "I think I want to find out what I'm having."
Titus seems relieved at the slight change of subject, his shoulders sloping as he releases a breath. "Yeah?"
I nod, letting myself think about a future with my baby in a tangible way for the first time. "Green is my favorite color, but I feel like it would be easy to have too much of a good thing."
Titus brings a hand to my face, stroking over my skin with a gentle touch. "True." Then he shocks me by saying, "Plus, it will be easier for you to pick what color you want me to paint the baby’s room."
My mouth opens, but I have no clue what to say to that, so I clamp it shut.
Titus has spent a shit ton of money over the past month furnishing his main floor—especially the kitchen—but that benefited him too.
And it didn’t technically change anything.
Just filled in some blanks. Painting a room is a little different.
It might not be structural, but it’s still a pretty permanent change.
One that would dedicate an entire room to Peanut.
This time it’s my turn to clear my throat. “I just assumed the baby would stay with me in my rooms.”
I’ve worked so hard at not letting my hopeful tendencies get out of hand, I haven’t really thought about what will happen as the baby grows—both while Peanut’s still inside and when they come out.
I didn’t schedule a doctor’s appointment.
I don’t own a single piece of maternity wear.
I haven’t bought the first sleeper or onesie…
I figured out a way to be as financially secure as possible, and then just… stopped. Pretended I didn’t have stretch marks and late-night feedings breathing down my neck. That my life wouldn’t completely encroach on Titus’s way of living.
So I guess I was still letting my hopeful tendencies have free reign after all.
Titus’s green gaze levels on me. “That will only work for so long. At some point, the baby will need its own space.”
I don’t really want to think about that time because the only logical choice is that I’ll have to move out. Try to find an affordable apartment in a teeny, tiny town. I’ll end up right back where I started.
Yet again.
“I think—” The doorbell rings, stealing whatever Titus was about to say next.
And I’m relieved. Because hearing him say he thinks I’ll have to move out once the baby gets bigger would send me into a panicked tailspin.
Titus frowns, his green eyes narrowing as they swing toward the front door. “Who in the hell is that?”
“I don’t kn—” Wait. Maybe I do know.
I slide off Titus’s lap, gripping the back of the stool next to me as I wait for the little wave of dizziness that comes with standing to pass. While I’m trying to make sure I don’t almost faint and freak Titus all the way out again, he strides to the door, looking pissed at the intrusion.
I make it to the main hall just as he flings the door open to reveal Tobias on the stoop. His younger brother has his tiny poodle cradled in one arm as he thumbs over the opposite shoulder in the direction of the driveway. “What in the hell did you order now?”
Titus’s brows pinch together as he leans to stare at Tobias’s truck. “I didn’t order anything.”
“I did.” I push on a tight smile as both men’s eyes come my way. “But why do you have it?”
Tobias steps inside, shooting me a grin as he pushes past Titus. “Because people get confused about which house is which when they come here.” He waggles his dark brows and holds out the tiny dog in his arms. “You want to entertain Copper while Ty and I carry this stuff in?”
I take the pup from him and laugh when she immediately tries to lick my chin.
“Watch out.” Tobias backs away. “She’ll try to stick her tongue in your mouth if you let her.” He gives me a wink. “But I bet you’re used to that around here.”
My cheeks heat and I can’t stop the way my eyes snap to where Titus stands by the door staring out at the truck.
Remembering all the places Titus has put his tongue sends heat racing through my body.
Then I think about all the places I’d like to put my tongue and accidentally lick my lips.
Because if Titus enjoyed going down on me as much as he did, what will he be like if I return the favor?
Copper makes good on her doggy daddy's claim, and her next kiss nearly goes between my lips. It's gross, but exactly what I need to snap me out of the train of thought I'm riding.
"Let's go make you some treats." I'm pretty sure Tobias is going to be here for a while since everything they’re unloading requires an amount of assembly. Taking Copper into the kitchen, I set her at my feet while I pull up a recipe for dog biscuits and get to work.
Titus comes in while I'm adding items to the mixer, his big body crowding close as his arms cage me in, hands bracing against the counter. His breath is warm on my neck when he asks, "Would you like to explain all the office furniture I just brought inside?"
I continue assembling the recipe, giving him a shrug. "Not really."
Titus has been working at the kitchen island for a couple of weeks now, and it’s not really set up to be a long-term workspace.
The stools are attractive, and fine for eating a meal, but they're not built to have a butt in them ten hours a day.
And, while Titus has a moderately acceptable office upstairs, he's all but abandoned it outside of the night there was an emergency.
Considering there's a perfectly good—and newly emptied and cleaned—office here on the main floor, I figured we might as well make it functional.
"You should've told me you wanted to furnish the office." Titus inches closer, the front of his body blanketing my back, his warmth making me want to lean into him. "I would have bought you anything you wanted."
I know he would have. He would have bought more than I wanted. And then probably added extra money to my bank account for good measure. At this point, there's more money in there than I think I've ever had at one time. And since I didn't have any immediate plans for it...
"I wanted it to be a surprise." I set the mixer to run and turn in place so I can face him. "You have done so much for me, and I wanted to do a little something for you."
I didn't go crazy. The space already had built-in shelving and a humongous desk. I just found the highest rated office chair for men of his height and build, and a little bit of decoration type stuff to make it feel more comfortable.
More like a home.
I don't know that Titus has ever felt like this is a home, and that makes me sad. Makes me want to do something to change it. Especially now that I know why.
Titus’s piercing gaze holds mine. "I'm paying you back."
I figured he would, but this wasn't about the money. This was about showing him I appreciate what he does for me.
That I think of him.
Will he probably still send me packing when I have a rambunctious, loud toddler stealing the peace he prioritizes and making it difficult for him to work?
Probably. But he's not gonna leave me high and dry.
I know that. That's not who he is. It will still suck to have to find a new place to live, but maybe it will be okay.
Titus's hand comes to my face, his thumb and pointer gripping my chin. "And I'm not only talking about money." He leans in, brushing a kiss against my lips.
"Can I get a little help in here?" Tobias’s voice carries in from the direction of the office, but Titus doesn't immediately move away.
He scowls, blowing out a sigh. "It would figure they'd deliver it to his house by accident."
"Is there somewhere else you would've preferred it to go?" Titus’s brothers might annoy him, but I know he loves them. I have to think any one of them would aggravate him equally with their appearance today.
"Good point." He leans in, kissing me again. This time his mouth lingers, teasing against mine until my toes are curled and my nipples are tight. I'm breathless as he pulls away. "Hold that thought." His lips press against my forehead and then he steps away, going straight for the office.
Hold what thought?
I look down at where Copper sits at my feet, wagging her tail. "Is he coming back?"
Since it doesn’t seem like it, I finish mixing up the dough and roll it out.
I don't have any bone shaped cookie cutters, so I cut the thin slab into squares using a pizza cutter and slide them into the oven to bake. While they’re cooking, I go to check on the progress the boys are making in the office.
As I close in, Titus and his brother’s voices reach my ears.
“The house looks a hell of a lot different than it did the last time I was here." There's no judgment in Tobias's voice. "You've put a lot of work into it."
"Not me. It's all Mariah. She's busted her ass cleaning everything up. The least I could do is give her furniture to sit on."
I roll my eyes, because the least Titus could have done was paid me my salary and let me bring him food three times a day.
He's gone so far above and beyond what our agreement was, it's difficult to even imagine what that would have been like.
Even before he came out of his rooms, Titus was doing more for me than any man ever has in my life.
He gave me the kitchen of my dreams, and piece by piece is assembling a house I love.
A house I might have to leave because of an irresponsible cowboy and his equally disappointing condom collection.
"You really fucking lucked out with her, didn't you?" I can almost swear there's a hint of envy in Tobias’s words. "Maybe I should ask Mom to hire me a live in chef."
"What for? You're never at home." Titus snorts. "She would die of boredom in two weeks."
"She would have Copper to keep her company." Tobias's grin is easy to hear. "And that dog’s a hell of a lot more entertaining than you've ever been."
She's also a tattletale, because the little poodle suddenly runs up behind me and barks, making me yelp, giving away my eavesdropping position. I step into view just as both men look toward the open French doors. I give them a smile. "Anybody want something to drink?"
Tobias turns his easy grin on me. "I would love something to drink, Miss Mariah." He pulls in a noticeable inhale. "And some of whatever it is that you’re cooking, because it smells delicious.”
"It's dog treats for Copper." I return his smile. "But you're welcome to eat as many of them as you like."
Titus snorts, but Tobias ignores him, full attention still on me. “You're making Copper homemade dog treats?" He stands from where he was kneeling on the hardwood next to Titus, swaggering my way. "That’s awfully nice of you."
I'm starting to think Titus might be the only one in the family who didn't get whatever gene results in pores oozing charm. And thank God for that, because I probably would have spent every day suffering a tiny bit of PTSD thanks to all the charming men in my rearview mirror.
"I figured it was the least I could do since I'm the reason you're here hauling around boxes of furniture and assembling overstuffed chairs."
It seems like they've already got Titus’s office chair put together, and have moved on to the items for the seating area I thought would tuck perfectly into the front corner right next to the window.
I can imagine stretching out on the chaise, reading a book as the sunshine streams in through the windows and Titus works at his desk.
Tobias swaggers up right next to me. "Awfully nice of you to make sure my brother has a comfortable office to work in."
My eyes snap to where Titus is watching us interact, his lips pressed into a flat line. Nice isn't the reason I did this, but I certainly don't want to admit my motivations to Tobias. Especially with Titus listening in. "I figured it was the least I could do, considering how much he's done for me."
This isn't about tit for tat, but it’s an easy excuse to fall back on. One that hopefully doesn't seem suspicious or lead to more questions, because I really don't want to answer anything too difficult.
Or too revealing.
But Tobias doesn’t question me at all. Instead, he gives me a very familiar look before offering an equally familiar word—“Interesting.”