“I can get you health insurance—good health insurance. If there are any complications with the birth, you’re going to need it.”
“But just how am I going to get it? With that nonexistent job you promised me?” Her wry tone speaks volumes.
Unable to stop myself, I slide my hand underneath her jacket and gently palm her swollen belly. “That’s an easy fix. Marry me. As for the job—”
“Connor,” she splutters, chin almost meeting her chest before she gets the rest of her sentence out, “what do you mean? Did you just say you want to...”
Now she’s forgotten all about the job.Women. “Marry you,” I finish. “I want to marry you and be a dad to these babies, Rosanna. One who’ll never leave them or their mother behind.”
“We’ve only known each other for a month! And I just left a toxic relationship.” Shock coats every word.
My hands flex over her sweater. “You did. And I’m proud of you for standing up to him the way you did, but you also began a relationship with me the minute I brought you home with me. Tell me something, kitten. How long did you know him?”
“Almost all my life.”
Too long. “And did you ever think he would do what he did?”
Rosanna’s brow twists as her words slowly leave. “Well, no. Not really. No.”
I can’t stop from kissing her small frown away. “Just because a person’s been in your life for a longer period of time doesn’t mean you know them any better than someone you connect with instantly. Like we did. And didn’t I tell you to listen to my actions and not my words?”
“You did, but...” Her voice trails off.
“Two cribs, Rosanna,” I whisper against her lips. “One for each of them. The best and safest that money can buy. And one big rocking chair for us to sit together and rock the babies to sleep. That’s what I’m going to make for them. What does that tell you—” She shivers a bit. Shit. “Let’s finish this in the truck, okay?”
Once we get inside, I bring her cold hands to my mouth to warm them up. “Look, the bottom line is this—if you’re dead set on having a job, you can keep my books like you did Albert’s. You can get insurance on your own with it, but a policy for you and the babies would be more expensive than marrying me and being added as my dependents. Not that I expect you to pay for it if you marry me. I wouldn’t accept any money if you sliced me open and stuffed it inside.”
She gives me a weak smile.
“Think about it. Just think about it, and we’ll talk some more tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” she says faintly, looking at me as if she’s never seen me before.
Oh, kitten. You have no idea what’s hiding inside of me.
Chapter fourteen
Rosanna
Marryme.
The man’s insane.
Hair piled high in a messy bun, I raise a leg from the bubbles floating along the surface of the warm, sudsy water and swipe my razor along my calf, double checking the smoothness with the flat of my other hand. I love having freshly-shaved legs. Freshly-shavedeverything, really. It’s not a problem yet, but I wonder if I’ll still be able to reach it all as the months go by.
Sighing, I rest the razor on the lip of the massive garden tub and let the calm jazz music I’m streaming relax my mind. He’d shown me how to turn the jets on, but I can’t remember which switch does what. Besides, this is relaxing enough on its own.
Marry me.
True to his word, he left me to think about it. As soon as we got home, he snagged all the bags and put everything away before disappearing to his workshop for the rest of the afternoon. To build...a rocking chair?
God, if I weren’t already pregnant, the image alone would have my ovaries swooning like Southern belles. I close my eyes, envisioning walking up on him while he’s working hard for my babies. Stopping for a break, he peers at me from under his thick, sooty lashes while he wipes the sweat from his forehead with a tattooed forearm and—mhmm...I can’t help myself.
The light jazz suddenly turns sultry, the upright bass plucking a downward stroll while the mellow tenor saxophone smoothly caresses my ears. Or maybe it’s just my hyperactive hormones making it sound sexual now. A spark of desire lights me up inside, stretching around my heavy breasts. My nipples have been so freaking sensitive lately that it almost hurts to touch them without warming them up first.
Darting a quick look to the closed bathroom door, I run my nails over the taut skin of my stomach, sending goosebumps shivering over me. That does it. Time for some self-care.
Leaning back against the spa pillow suctioned to the tub, I sneak a hand between my legs and close my eyes, slowly rounding my clit in little circles. That feels good, though not nearly as good as when Connor does it. But he’s not here, is he? I smirk and answer myself. “No, he’s not.”
