Page 157 of Knot What I Expected

“It’s just, um...” Her fingers flex against my stomach. “I’ve had a baby, and, well, I don’t look like the kind of woman you’re used to, so I just want to manage expectations.”

For a second, I don't understand.

Then I do.

And fuck, my heart squeezes.

All that fire.

All that attitude.

And she's standing here worried I'm going to look at her and somehow find her lacking?

What the fuck is wrong with the world that gorgeous women think they have to apologize for living? For fuck’s sake, the mere idea infuriates me.

But I’m not mad at her.

Never that.

“Gabby.”

“What?”

Her chin comes up defensively.

There she is.

“I know you don’t look like other women.”

Her eyes narrow.

“Wow. Okay. Great start, Romeo.”

Despite myself, my mouth twitches.

“Would you let me fucking finish?”

She folds her arms, pushing her bountiful tits up higher in that goddamn scrap of black lace she’s wearing—doing absolutely nothing to help my concentration.

“I'm listening.”

I step closer.

Her breath catches.

Good.

Because I want her paying attention to every fucking word.

“First things first. Gabriella, you are a fucking knockout.”

Her expression shifts. The defensiveness cracks.

“Every inch,” I continue, holding her gaze. “Every curve. Every dimple and scar.”

“Havoc—”

“No. You wanted to manage my expectations?” I close the last inch between us, my voice dropping. “Then you need to understand what they are.”