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I realize I have no choice but to come clean. “I did. That’s the result, so I went to buy some.”

“You’re adorable,” she says. “You didn’t have to do it.”

“Thought I’d give being romantic a try. Obviously didn’t work out.”

Emilia walks up to me and laces her hands at the back of my neck, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Whoever said buying breakfast isn’t romantic?”

“Are you being nice to me just because I bought your favorite pancakes?”

She shrugs, a coy smile spreading on her face. “You’ll never know.”

“Here is a test for you. You’ll only get your sweets after you give me a proper kiss.”

“You mean this was a half-assed kiss?”

“It was an I can’t wait to get it over with so I can have my sweets kind of kiss. I want an I’m getting wet kind of kiss.”

“You’re awfully presumptuous.”

“Can’t help it. Comes along with the package.”

“Fine.”

She rises on her toes and gives in to my kiss. Then she steals the bag out of my hand and hurries to the kitchen. The little vixen.

“I feel a little used right now,” I inform her.

“Oh, feel free to feel very used. I’m in pancake heaven.”

I watch her eat, barely restraining myself as she makes delicious sounds.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Teasing you? Making you sweat?” she asks with a grin. “Of course I am.”

“Two can play at this game, Emilia,” I say in a low tone. She merely gives me a coy smile, concentrating on her food.

“Thank you,” she says softly once she’s done. “For breakfast, and for yesterday. You mean a lot to me.”

She sighs and frowns, as if she’s considering her words. “I didn’t have the courage to put myself out there again after my fiasco engagement. But with you, everything feels so right that I’m almost afraid something bad will happen, just because it has to.”

Stepping closer to her, I drag my fingers down her cheek, focusing on her eyes. “Get those silly ideas out of your head. Before you, I thought there was something wrong with me for not making any relationship work. But with the wrong person, it will never feel right. You’re my right person, Emilia.”

She offers me a heartfelt, delicious smile. “And you are mine.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Max

One week later, on Friday, I’m convinced I’ve lost my mind. Yeah, that must be it. Otherwise, why would I have a book about pregnancy open on my computer at work? Sometime today I started researching late births and Braxton-Hicks, and fell down the research hole. In the meantime, I found out late first births are normal, but there are about one thousand other things that can go wrong during a pregnancy. Why do women put themselves through this? And to think Mom went through this seven times. I should close the damn book, but reading it is like watching a car wreck. It’s bad, but I can’t look away.

A knock at my door jolts me out of my reading.

“Come in.” I immediately minimize the book on my screen. If anyone sees it, they’ll think I’ve lost my balls on top of losing my mind. Christopher walks in.

“You’re a genius,” he says. “Brazil just informed us they’ll fly to San Francisco to negotiate with us. We just have to set up the date.”

“About damn time.”

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