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I craned my head to look at him. “Are you for real?”
“What do you mean?”
“I feel like someone wrote you. Like the whole thing. You’re a goddamn romance novel waiting to happen.” I flicked my hands his direction.
“No, I’ve just been waiting for someone special. Is that so bad?”
“Not at all. As long as it’s me.”
“Good point.” Brady straightened a little. Those lovely, warm brown eyes were almost black in the light from the television. My chest began to ache, my breathing ragged as he pressed into me. “Can I kiss you, Cecelia?”
I licked my lips, trying not to betray my eagerness. “Only once.”
With a soft, pained noise, his mouth found mine, making my heart leap into my throat with the sweetness of it. The way his lips pulled and played with mine, sending white-hot heat down my body to settle at my core, where it throbbed.
When he pulled away, I leaned in, disappointed for things to end so quickly.
“Cecelia,” he whispered only a breath away from my lips. “It’s going to be okay.”
This time, I believed him.
***
Chapter 14
Brady
The steam on my bathroom mirror seemed especially thick today. I resisted the urge to unwrap my towel from my waist and wipe away at it. I knew that never really worked. It was a temporary fix. I didn’t do things that way.
“Resist, Brady. Resist.”
Flipping my phone open, I swiped over the emails in my inbox, pausing briefly as my calendar went off with a quick reminder.
Date with Cici, it read in sharp black letters.
Like I could’ve forgotten. In the past few days since we’d found out about the baby, Cici and I had talked every day. But today, I wanted to take her out. I wasn’t sure if that meant burgers or filets, but we couldn’t hide out in her apartment any longer.
I smiled at my reflection as it slowly appeared. Not that I'd complain. I’d made a habit the past few days to cut out of work early, driving straight to Cici’s apartment, where we’d camp out watching movies, cooking dinner, even playing cards.
It was domestic. And every time I left, it was just a little harder for me to convince myself that Cecelia Grove wasn’t the perfect woman for me.
We’d talked about the baby on and off. Cici still seemed shaky, but more because I could feel her fear for her company, for her family’s legacy. I understood that, but unlike her, I woke up every day more excited about the baby.
I held to my promise to celebrate with her when she was ready. But man, it was hard. I’d already bookmarked a dozen websites for new dads. And there may have been some rough drawings in my office of how I could move the furniture around in my guest room to accommodate a crib.
But her first real appointment wasn’t until next week. I wanted to remain as calm as I could until then.
I slipped into my suit for the day. Cici was going back to work today, to work a half day or so. I knew that she was eager to get back to her normal self. Luna, her tiny, prickly assistant had called numerous times over the past few days. Cici had begged off, saying she was still suffering from the stomach bug that had taken her down the week before.
Which was true because most likely it’d been an unfortunate mix of old food and morning sickness that had escalated her illness. The excuse bought her the time I think she still needed.
My phone rang the instant I sat in my car, my mother’s number scrolling across the screen. “Mama, good morning.”
“She left again last night,” she said immediately.
My foot jumped to the brake. “What do you mean?”
“Adriana,” she said, her voice sharp. “I just woke up, and she wasn’t here anymore.”
