Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Martin
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” a woman’s exhausted voice says, followed by a heavy sigh.
Eden and I jerk upright in bed, rubbing our eyes. Fear has me clutching my chest when Rebecca leans her shoulder against Eden’s doorframe and crosses her arms, studying us with slight disappointment.
“Please tell me you’re being careful.” Rebecca flicks her gaze to Ivy’s crib. “I don't know if we have it in us to get second jobs if there’s another little one on the way,” she says, her blue scrubs rumpled from a long shift at the hospice facility, where Eden once mentioned she worked.
“Oh my god, Mom,” Eden squeaks. “We didn’t.” She throws off the comforter, revealing that she and I are fully dressed.
I rush to grab the comforter, balling the thick material over my lap so no one will see the instant hard-on I have from waking beside my angel, her nightgown having twisted in her sleep and worked its way up her lovely thighs.
I don’t think my skin has ever blazed this hot, mortified to be having this conversation with my eighteen-year-old fiancée’s mother.
My skin could very well blister and peel as if I’ve suffered the most horrific sunburn.
Rebecca narrows her eyes and straightens with another sigh. “Good.”
“Neither of you would have to get a second job,” I say, my tongue thick in my mouth with thirst. I desperately need a hit of caffeine after staying up so late, watching TV with my angel, and the two additional times Ivy woke us in the middle of the night.
I don’t know how these ladies function after so little sleep, but I guess I’m about to find out, seeing as I’ll be here to help every night.
“I’ll take care of however much you allow me to. Support you in any way you need.”
Rebecca looks past Eden to me, speculatively. “Is that right?”
Eden brings her fingertips to her lips, wide-eyed and blinking fast.
I lay my hand on Eden’s back, still warm from snuggling in our sleep.
“Of course. She is my lady,” I tell Rebecca, though I’m looking at Eden, hoping I’m not overstepping.
“It would be my duty and honor to care for her.” I send a small smile Ivy’s way when she wakes with a whimper.
“As well as her daughter, and any others we may have.” Turning my attention back to Rebecca, I tell her, “And I have the means, if that’s what you’re worried about. ”
“That’s what I was hoping,” Rebecca says with a snort, “given the fancy-shmancy car out in the driveway.” She drags her feet into the bedroom, settling on the edge of the bed beside Eden.
Thank you, universe, that she didn’t sit on my side. I’m fairly certain I would combust in a spectacular display of flames.
Rebecca takes her daughter’s hand and frowns when Eden lays her head on my shoulder. My future mother-in-law pins me with her gaze. “I don’t want you breaking my daughter’s heart. She’s so young…”
Eden groans, turning her face into my shoulder.
“I vow that I won’t.” I curl an arm around Eden and swallow past the lump in my throat. “If anything, she’d be the one to break mine.”
Eden’s breath hitches, and she tips her head back, palming my cheek. “Never.”
Eden and I stare into each other’s eyes for a long pause, before Rebecca softens and nods. “I know that look.” She stands, going to the crib when Ivy starts to fuss, picking her granddaughter up to soothe her. “It’s the same one Shayla gives James.”
“Yes, it is,” Eden says. “It absolutely is.”
“In that case,” Rebecca says over her shoulder, her back turned to us as she changes Ivy’s diaper, “we need to figure out living arrangements.”
Eden and I both snap our heads toward her mother.
Rebecca lifts a brow when she turns to hand over Ivy.
“Because as much as I believe the two of you are sincere in your feelings, I’m not keen on a man moving in with us and sharing my daughter’s childhood bedroom across the hall from me.
Whatever you two eventually get up to at night, I don’t want to hear it. ”
Eden snickers at her mother’s sour expression, and yup, I’m going up in flames, literally melting as sweat breaks out across my forehead.
“But I’m also not keen on being too far from my grandbaby. So…” Rebecca cuts me a look. “Prove it. Show me I can trust you to take care of them, starting with making living arrangements close by.”
Willing and able to rise to the challenge, I reach for my phone on Eden’s windowsill, and I tap around until I find the contact I need. Eden and Rebecca cock their heads in matching rhythm, listening to my side of the conversation.
“Good morning,” I say, my voice cracking beneath their stares.
I could really use that coffee right about now.
“Is this Gupreet?… Yes, James Bartlett’s recommendation…
Yes… I’m looking to buy as soon as possible…
Four bedrooms… That’s right… Willowood neighborhood, or as close to it as possible…
Perfect. My fiancée and I look forward to meeting with you. ”
“Fiancée?” Rebecca asks, going rigid. “Geez, you goobers really do fall hard and fast,” she mutters. I assume she’s referencing the speed with which James proposed to Shayla. She’s not wrong.
Eden scoots up in bed to lean against her headboard, bringing her daughter to her breast to nurse. She’s much more comfortable doing so in front of me now, but, like a gentleman, I keep my eyes above her neck.
I end the call, puffed up with pride to have accomplished the first step. “Done. Now, what else can I do to prove my intentions?”
“Well.” Rebecca pulls the tie from the end of her braid and shakes out her hair.
“I’ll have to think about that after a shower and some much-needed sleep.
” She lifts the corner of her mouth in a tired smile, kisses Eden’s cheek, runs her fingers through Ivy’s short hair, and moves to Eden’s door.
“But I think that’ll do for now, Lord Martin. ”
As soon as she leaves, I turn to Eden, my stomach as sour as Rebecca’s earlier expression. I press a hand over my mouth, bile rising up my throat. “It’s not as cute when she calls me that.” In fact, it’s downright unsettling.
“Noted,” Eden says with a laugh, and she pokes my side. “I’ll talk to her tonight and tell her I’m the only one who gets to call you that. You’re mine, Lord Martin.”
“I’m going to get hard again if you keep calling me that.” I’d instantly gone flaccid when Rebecca had said it. I shudder. “And I don’t think I can…you know…with her across the hall,” I say, alluding to any bedroom activities that Eden and I may “eventually get up to at night.”
There’s a twinkle in Eden’s eyes when she asks, “How soon can Gupreet find us a house?”
Twenty-one days later, Eden and I move into the beautifully maintained, four-bedroom, wooden craftsman house that sits three streets behind Rebecca’s.
It took offering the previous owners an extra ten thousand dollars over the asking price to make it happen in such a short amount of time, but I would have happily paid triple that to grant my lady anything she wishes.
I’ve been hard ever since the movers dropped off our furniture.
The four-poster king-sized bed is positioned across the grand window, which overlooks a view of the lush wildflower garden that takes up a good third of the yard.
Combine every flower and butterfly in that garden, however, and it still wouldn’t compare to the divine beauty of my Lady Eden.
That night, as soon as Eden closes the door of Ivy’s new nursery, I hook my arm around my angel’s back, swing her up, and skip down the hall to our bedroom, only stumbling twice in my hurry.
“Oh wow,” Eden says, gasping and turning a circle when I set her on her feet. “This is amazing.”
I’ve gone all out in trying to set the mood. Pillar candles of all heights line the windowsill and cover every available surface, the room aglow with warm, flickering light. A romantic playlist I had put together is already streaming from the Bluetooth speaker on the gleaming wooden dresser.
I bow and offer her my hand when she turns to me. “May I have this dance, my lady?”
Eden takes my hand, a small quiver to her chin when we dance a slow path along the three sides of our bed and back again. “This is like a dream come true,” she says, her arms circling my neck.
“It is.” I bring my lips to hers. “You are my dream come true.”
“And you’re mine,” Eden says, then deepens the kiss.
Though our courtship has progressed quickly, we’ve decided to wait until next year to marry so that we don’t rush our dream wedding.
It’s one of two things I’ve been patient about since meeting Eden, wanting to grant all her desires, and continuing to prove I’m worthy of her hand.
The other is taking things slow for our first time.
Now that we’ve moved into our first home together, I find it unbearably difficult not to immediately undress my fiancée.
My hands tremble as I take my time to savor every inch of bare skin revealed, delicately removing her leggings and oversized T-shirt.
Eden laughs softly and lifts my shirt, tugging it over my head. “Take me to bed, Lord Martin.”
“Yes, my lady,” I answer with a tremor of anticipation.
I lift her by the backs of her thighs and crawl onto the bed atop the plushest, gold-embroidered, dark green comforter I could find on the market.
I have to sit back on my heels, breathing hard, as I survey the wonder that is my Lady Eden, lying on her back, dressed only in her nude nursing bra and tiny white panties.
“My god, I love you,” I say, choking on my emotions.
She reaches underneath herself to unclip her bra and slowly pulls it away from her chest, then opens her arms to me. “I love you too. Don’t make me wait any longer.”