Shane falls above me, barely supporting himself as he tries to catch his breath. “Stay for the night,” he says, kissing between my shoulder blades.
I turn my head to the side, looking back at him as I feel him softening inside me. “Aren’t you leaving for Montreal tomorrow?”
His shaft slips out of me as he rolls over to his side and pulls the condom off, tying a knot at the end and setting it aside on the floor. His hand then comes to my waist, turning me around and bringing me into his side as I rest my head on his chest.
“We are, but it’s not until noon, and I don’t have to be at the office tomorrow morning.”
“But I don’t have my car, and I’m working tomorrow at two.” I go to bite my thumbnail, but Shane stops me before I can, holding onto my wrist and kissing my fingers.
“That’s okay, you can stay until you need to leave for work and take one of the cars in the garage. Marianne, the housekeeper, will be here tomorrow; she can help you with whatever you need. Just tell her what car you want to take, and she’ll give you the keys.”
“Shane, I’m not staying in your house while you’re not here. And I can’t take one of your cars.” I frown at him.
“Did you miss the part where I said,‘Welcome home’? That means this is now your home as well, Angel. I want you to use it as much as you want, and everything in it, including the cars.” He kisses the tip of my nose when my cheeks flush.
I thought he was just saying it like that, not that he actually meant it was my home too. I don’t know how to feel about it—a part of me is giddy and wants to jump with joy, but the other part feels like we’re moving really fast.
“Shane…”
“Please, Angel?” He glides his knuckles against my cheek. “I meant it when I said I was done waiting. This is where you belong, with me, in our home. I don’t want to spend another minute without you.” He draws me closer, his breath fanning over my lips as he angles my head back by lifting my chin with his finger.
“I want you in our bed every night, I want to wake up to you in my arms, I want to dance with you in our kitchen every chance we get. I don’t want to go weeks without seeing you again, Aubrey, not unless it’s because of work. I hate staying away…” He suddenly sounds so vulnerable, and all I want to do is make all those promises to him.
“I want that too,” I admit in a whisper.
“Then say yes, spend the night and every other available night possible.”
I bite my lip, looking into his vibrant eyes that shine with adoration. “Yes.” I smile and kiss him. “Yes,” I repeat once more.We might be moving fast, but this feels good, it feels right.
My stomach suddenly growls, reminding us that we still haven’t eaten. “Hmm, I should probably get you fed. I had planned a whole romantic dinner, but then you distracted me with sex.” I smack him in the chest and then bury my face against it as I laugh, feeling my blush crawling up my face.
He flips us over, me on my back and him above me. “How about I order us some food instead, and we could try out those treats we brought home while waiting?”
I smile. “Hmm, not very healthy… But let’s do it.”
He lowers his head, coming in to bite my bottom lip. “God, you’re adorable.” He kisses me, then pushes himself off the bed. “I’ll be right back, don’t move. I want to watch you eat naked in bed.” I flush even harder as he winks and wanders out of the room completely naked.
God, that man is perfection.
Chapter ten
Aubrey
The next Virgin Mary…
~ Four Days Later ~
I’m late…
I’m two days late… I’ve never been late. My period comes at the same time every month; I’ve never even been one day late. Yesterday when I realized, I thought maybe the fact that I started having sex had messed with my cycle, but after some research, the internet claims that doesn’t happen…
So now I’m sort of freaking out.
But maybe it’s nothing. It’s probably nothing. Yeah, I’m just stressed, that’s it. I mean, I don’t feel different. I’m not nauseated or tired like Morgan and Emma. And things don’t smell funny or taste bad, which is how Cecilia had found out she was pregnant. Nothing aches or feels sore. It’s probably just a coincidence that I’m late.
Yet I can’t help the nagging feeling in my brain, in my stomach, the one that has been popping up for the past two hours, telling me to check. I could just run out to the drugstore and get a test, like that I’ll be able to settle my nerves and concentrate on these new recipes I’m trying to make for my recipe book.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. It will be negative, and everything will be fine. And later during the day, my period will show up while I’m at work, and I’ll laugh about my little scare with Octavia.
