“Why don’t you like it when people call you Ro?” he asks into the darkness.
“My mom used to call me that,” I say without a second thought.
Sharing intimate details isn’t something we do, and I expect something to stop me, but nothing does.
In the post-climax intimacy of a dark room, with the man whose baby I’m expecting, I let a wall crack just slightly and share.
“She was a ray of sunshine in the dark manor of my childhood home. She laughed and danced. Shewas such a joyful person. She protected us from Father.”
Liam tenses. “Did you need a lot of protection?”
I sigh, regretting that we moved to him so quickly. “No, not really. He ignored me and Tee most of the time. But Mom was always there to make sure it stayed that way.”
“She sounds like a wonderful woman.” Liam’s fingers stroke my back, soothing me mindlessly.
“She was. I don’t know why she loved my father, or if she did. I remember her bending for him, cowering, caving. I never understood that. But I was too young to really know.”
My heart swells with the memory of her.
“What happened to her?”
“Cancer.” I sigh. “She was the strongest person I know. Till the very end. So graceful. So poignant. So loving.”
He kisses the crown of my head. “I’m sorry.” His tone doesn’t carry pity. It carries compassion. Understanding.
I don’t know what to do with that, so I push up on to my elbows and kiss him. “Anyway, I only let my sister call me Ro. I don’t let anyone else taint that fragile memory.”
He pulls me tighter and rolls us to the side. “This is our first pillow talk? I think it got heavypretty fast.”
I snort. “Talking has never been your forte.”
He slaps me gently. “I’m great at talking. I just care very little about it.”
We lie there, our gazes locked. Uneasiness never arrives. The moment holds only comfort and safety. I wish I could lean into it fully.
“Why are you still dressed?” I try to claw us out of this unknown territory.
He chuckles and sits up and undresses quickly. When he snuggles back against me, I push him away.
“Wait, let me admire you for a moment.”
He rolls onto his back and puts his hands behind his head. “Be quick about it, because my cock needs your pussy again.”
Damn. I let my eyes roam down his sculpted torso, across his broad chest, down his trim waist to his hard cock. The man is a masterpiece.
“I feel objectified,” he teases.
“You’ll live,” I counter, and he grabs me and pulls me to him, capturing my lips.
He plays with my nipple before he moves down, grazing my skin with his fingertips. When his warm palm spreads across my stomach, we both still.
My belly is flat, but we heard it yesterday. Life is pulsing inside me.
“I thought I was overstressed and tired. I didn’t eatproperly. I didn’t sleep properly. I didn’t rest at all. What if I hurt the baby?” I whisper.
Liam slides down and kisses my belly. “That heartbeat was strong, Roxy. Our baby won’t give up easily. It’s ours, after all.”
And the crack in my defenses deepens a bit.
