Page 53 of Playing It Forward

She giggles. “Maybe you haven’t found them.”

I start to walk away but she captures my wrist. “Stay with me? Just for a little while.”

As if I’d ever say no to that offer. I kick off my shoes before climbing into bed with her. She cuddles into my side. I nearly sigh at the feel of her against me. She fits me perfectly. Because this is where she belongs.

“Does it bother you that your baby will grow up here in this house?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“You’re rich, and I’m …” She trails off with a shrug.

I pinch her chin. “I don’t give a shit how much money you have.”

Her cheeks darken. “It’s not only the money. I don’t know anything about my biological family. What if our baby…” She gulps.

I palm her cheek. “Sweetheart, I will love this baby no matter what because she’s ours.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

She doesn’t appear convinced. She’s worrying her bottom lip and her hazel eyes are filled with doubt. I can’t allow her to doubt me. To doubt us.

I lower my head. I move slowly to give her a chance to protest. Her breath hitches instead. Yes.

I meld my mouth to hers. She sighs and I swoop my tongue inside. I groan as her taste hits me. This is it. The taste I’ve been missing. I never knew strawberries could be addicting before.

I thread my hands through her hair and tug until she tilts her head to allow me to dive deeper. To explore every inch of her mouth. To taste every inch.

Her hands fist my t-shirt and my cock twitches. It wants in on the action.

But we can’t. She’s injured. And I won’t take her again until she realizes I want more than a round in the hay. I want more than a quickie in the closet.

I want the promise of a family.

Chapter 18

I’m beginning to understand why women fall for quarterbacks.

Terri

I roll over and reach for Nolan but the bed is cold. Did he leave? What the pirate? How dare he—

My stomach gurgles and I fly out of bed to the attached bathroom. I barely make it in time to empty my stomach.

“Shhh…I’ve got you.”

Nolan pulls my hair back and rubs circles into my lower back until I’m done heaving. I lay my forehead on the toilet seat.

“You done?”

“I think so.”

He hands me a glass of water. I rinse my mouth before handing it back. He helps me to stand and leads me into the bedroom.

“I thought the anti-nausea medication was helping.”

“It is. Trust me, it is. It was much worse before.”