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“You’re more important than whatever else I might have to do.”

Fucking hell. Cue the waterworks even more. This man. How did I get so lucky? And why the hell did I say no to him when he asked me out all those times? Why did I ever think he’d have anything but my best interest at heart? How did I screw up so badly?

“Shhhh.” He rocks me from side to side, rubbing my back.

I take a few breaths, willing myself to stop crying. Finally, when I’ve pulled myself together, I sit back down, grabbing tissues from the box on my desk, grateful that I skipped mascara this morning. I was too tired to do anything more than put on tinted moisturizer and blush before heading out the door. Suddenly starving, I grab the bowl of fruit and a fork while he goes back to his seat.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I tell him around bites of cantaloupe.

“Don’t worry about it. How’s your day going?”

I fill him in on the call with Anders as well as the reason I was talking about fruit.

He chuckles. “Yeah, the guys are throwing me a party, same night as yours. I told them not to, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

I take a bite of a strawberry, not missing how Sebastian tracks my movement, his eyes flaring with desire. No, there’s no way. I must be mistaken.

I shake myself out of my Sebastian induced blush.

It doesn’t matter, because at the end of the day, I’m pregnant, and my priority needs to be raising my baby the best I can. Doing whatever I need to give him or her a great future, which starts with marrying Sebastian and getting my inheritance.

Now, I just need to not fall any further for the man sitting across from me. Especially when said man is planning to move across the Atlantic to England in a few short months.

Chapter sixteen

Sebastian

Bloody hell, eating a strawberry like that should be illegal. I shift in the seat, grateful she can’t see over the desk, because these black joggers do nothing to hide my hard dick.

I want her. I’ve always wanted her, but now more than ever. Sutton has always been gorgeous to me, but now I swear she’s glowing, and she’s beginning to show, which makes her more attractive to me. How do I know she’s starting to show? Because I’ve caught sight of her tiny bump a few times at night when she stretches or moves a certain way, and it’s bloody hot. I cannot wait to see her even more swollen with child.

New kink unlocked.

“You want some?”

I give myself a shake and force myself to focus and not think about her naked, spread out on my bed with her baby bump on display.

“No, I’m good. You enjoy, love. Are you coming to the game tonight?”

It’s our last home game before the break and also our last game before we get married. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind—the entire team now knows we’re getting married, including HR. It was a tricky situation to explain to them given we’d never told them we were dating.

Sutton finally broke down and told them about the stipulations of her grandmother’s will. I won’t forget the look on their faces, including Coach’s, when she explained. I swore he was going to have an aneurysm. I’ve always thought he had a soft spot for Sutton. Not in a creepy way but more of a father figure or even older brother way, and that reaction proved me right. I’m glad she has one more person she can rely on.

Needless to say, after that, HR immediately signed off on our relationship or whatever it is they do. Tonight, I want to make a statement to anyone watching that she’s mine, even if it is fake. I want to pretend just for one night that she’s mine, that they’re mine, for real.

“I am.” She yawns. “I’m planning to leave early, go home, nap, and then be back around six.”

I don’t miss the fact that she called my condo home. I like that she thinks of it as her home. I like it a lot.

I pick up the bag that I set on the ground when I walked in and place it on the desk. “Will you wear this?” She stares at the bag. “It’s just a sweater, love.”

She nods, taking the gift from me and pulling out the jersey. “You-you want me to wear your number?” She bites her bottom lip, glancing between me and the Storm jersey in her hand. It takes all my self-restraint not to lean forward and tug her lip out from between her teeth.

“I do. We need to sell this, right? My fiancée would be wearing my name and number.”

Do I actually think the lawyer is going to check video from my hockey games? No. Does she need to know that? Also no. And if I’m wrong and he does, well, she’ll be there wearing my name and number.

She blushes. “Isn’t this enough?” She holds up her left hand, and I fight the urge to rush around the table and kiss her. Claim her as mine.