He closes his eyes and rubs his hand over my growing belly. “You. Me. And the boy. That’s all that matters. I love you, Aspen. More every day.”
“Ditto, baby daddy.” I smile. “Let’s go get some celebratory lunch. We’ve got a lot to be grateful for.”
His eyes clear of all anger, all fear, and I’m just left with the love pooling in them. I can feel the intensity of it, all with that look. I’m starting to think this life of mine is even better than the dream.
Chapter 30
Rhett
Today was a long ass day at the ranch; it wouldn’t be so bad if Weston would stop giving me the cold shoulder. At least he’s talking to his sister; it would tear her up if he was still not speaking to her. I’d rather it be me than her going through emotional turmoil. Maverick has tried to help, shit, even Jack talked to him, but still nothing. The only thing I can do is show up as his friend every day, and pray that it will work out. We’re going to be spending the rest of our lives with interconnected paths, so at some point, he’ll move on.
With all of this going on, I live for going home; at least Aspen is always happy to see me. Even if it’s just so I can rub her feet and run her a bath, I’ll take the appreciation anywhere I can find it.
Walking through the door, I hunch over to take off my boots. Aspen would have my ass if I dragged cow shit through the house. It’s little things like this that remind me how damn lucky I am, despite it all.
I never thought I would have to worry about things like this, a woman at home to bust my chops if I dragged dirt through her house. I have a woman who chose to love me regardless of fear or doubt. She chose sickness and health without batting an eye. If she’d let me, I’d drag her down to the courtroom right now and make an honest woman out of her. But I already know she would want a wedding and I don’t want to rob her of that. Without a hesitation of a doubt, I’m making that girl mine for life. As far as I’m concerned, that woman is my wife.
“Hey baby, I’m home,” I holler out.
“I’m in the bedroom, putting some lotion on.” Her voice carries to the living room and my legs move on their own accord, like my body can’t wait to be back in her space.
When I walk through the door, I see her standing in front of the mirror, rubbing lotion on her arms.
It’s moments like these that I realize I am still so damn hot for her; the only thing I can see in this room right now is how damn good her tits look in her bra. It’s all she has on besides the world's smallest pair of shorts. Her long tan legs are on full display. She is too damn perfect for her own good.
“You sure know how to turn a man's day around.” I smirk at her as her eyes meet mine. I walk up to her, nice and slow. Bordering on predatory.
I see the spark ignite in her eyes. She knows this look. It means I want to devour her. Take her body in my hands and remind her just how fucking much I love her.
My hands come around her as we face the mirror. I know she’s had her moments with this pregnancy where her changing body was a struggle. I can’t even imagine it, but damn, do I wish she could feel how feral she makes me just the way she is.
“You seem rather…” She tosses her head back and forth, trying to find a word.
I think she’s trying to find a more elegant way to say horny. In moments like this, it’s best to call it like it is.
“Rather obsessed with my woman? Can’t a man appreciate how sexy the love of his life is?” I ask, nipping at her ear the second her chest meets my back.
Goosebumps break out over her arms and her eyes close.
“I think you should leave those open.”
My hands start exploring, feeling every piece of her, running up the swell of her stomach, and gripping hard on her growing breasts.
She lets out a small whimper that has my cock straining against my jeans.
My voice barely above a husky whisper, I say, “Make that sound for me again,” as I pinch her nipple.
She replies. Always so damn good at giving me what I crave.
My hands leave her breasts, and she whimpers for a whole new reason. “No, why are you stopping?”
“I have something better in mind for you.” I look at her in the mirror, and her eyes stay locked on my hands, tracking their movement.
Her breath hitches when I slip my hand under the elastic of her shorts. Every so slowly, I drag my hand down, brushing over her clit. Her knees immediately buckle and I readjust my grip, my forearm going underneath her breasts, holding her up to me.
“What do you see?” I ask her.
Her eyes shine with desire, and her voice sounds husky and thick. “You, playing with me.”
