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Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Like the world is a little brighter around the edges? Like every thought is a little lighter? I hadn’t felt this elated at Blair’s news of my son.
Ugh, Blair.
I shove her quickly from my thoughts and turn my face into Cara’s hot, soft neck breathing in her floral, slightly vanilla scent. My body continues to tingle faintly, even now, from the after-effects of our lovemaking and while it was different than what we are used to, it was still incredible.
Deserving too, considering her condition.
One hand skims down her torso slowly, tracing silky soft, sleep-warmed skin right to where I press my palm flat against her abdomen. Mychildis growing in there. Our child. A shudder jolts through me suddenly and a bubble swells warmly in my chest. I want to scream and yell and let the whole world know that I’ve done it.
I have the family I had never thought I could be good enough for.
Cara shifts in my arms, her warm body moving and stretching as she wakes up to my touches, and a soft, sleep-addled groan escapes her throat.
“Good morning,” I whisper, opening my eyes in time to see her own flutter and meet me with a lazy smile.
“Good morning,” she murmurs, stretching her arms up above her head and pulling her whole body taut like a bow string. Such a thing is difficult for me to resist but I manage, pressing my lips to her bare arm as she moves.
“Relax, I want to make you breakfast in bed,” I say.
Cara pulls back from her stretch and blinks up at me, a small curl forming between her brows as an amused smirk graces her lips.
“You… want to cook for me?” she asks and the disbelief in her tone earns her my fingers digging lightly into her side causing her to squirm and jolt in laughter.
“I’m capable of treating my wife to breakfast in bed,” I snort and she answers me in peals of giggles, wriggling into my hold to escape my tickling hand.
“Stop, stop okay!” she cries out, twisting against me with nowhere to go to escape my clutches.
So fucking beautiful.
“So stay here.” I press a kiss to her cheek and move to slide out of the bed only she catches me, hands on my jaw, and draws me into a slower, deeper morning kiss. Then she settles back into the pillows with a deep sigh.
“Fine.”
I grab one of the black silk dressing gowns, drape it over my shoulders and head downstairs. I don’t need one of the guards peeking in the windows too early and getting an eyeful.
The chill of the sleeping house ghosts past my legs as I head downstairs, more so in the cold kitchen but I busy myself with organizing coffee and popping some bread in the toaster.
Can pregnant women have coffee?
I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know but I’ll make sure to find out. Cara’s going to have the best care in theworld. I’ll need to talk to Sienna, if anyone can give me advice it will be her. Things to keep Cara safe and healthy, what foods are allowed, and which ones to avoid.
The coffee pot bubbles away happily as I grab the butter and begin spreading it on the toast. As the knife scrapes the bread, a bubble of amusement swells in my throat.
How fucking domesticated has Cara made me? Is this what love does? It’s gross and I hate it, and yet at the same time, I like it.
As soon as the coffee is done, I finish the toast, pour two cups of brew and set them out on a tray. Yet, it’s not enough.
It needs something else.
Turning to the cupboards, I rummage through them in search of something that will make the breakfast extra special. Since Cara has started to cook for us, there’s definitely more choice but the only breakfast-appropriate thing I can find is a small banana resting in a bowl.
Eh, it’ll do.
I add it to the tray, pick it up and begin carrying it upstairs only to pause at the flowers on the hallway table. Balancing the tray, I snatch one and clench it between my teeth before heading upstairs.
Cara’s face melts into soft laughter when she sees me and the spread and my heart skips a beat at the sound.
“Wow,” she grins, “you really know how to treat a girl.”
