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Maybe I shouldn’t have been thinking so much about it. It was just food.
Sure.
His reply was immediate.La Creperie. 8 a.m.
Bossy,I typed back.
You chose Ernie’s. It’s my choice this time.
A moment later, another text came through.Oh, and I know you like it when I’m bossy.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, I was unlocking my car when I noticed I had a flat tire. I went over to examine it. “Shit,” I muttered.
Shaking my head, I pulled out my phone and called Slash. “Hey, I’m sorry. Something came up and I can’t make it to breakfast.”
“What came up?”
“I have a flat tire.”
“Hang tight. I’ll come and get you.”
“I’m not riding a motorcycle.”
“Woman, you’re pregnant with my baby. I’m not going to put you on the back of my bike in your condition. I’m borrowing a car, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a spare?”
I winced even though he couldn’t see me. “No. I never got around to getting one.”
He sighed. “Be there in a few.”
Slash hung up, and I glared at the screen.
Why did I feel like there was a lecture coming my way?
I headed back to the apartment to wait for him. When I got a text that he was downstairs, I shoved a half-finished piece of rye toast into my mouth and went to meet him.
A black sedan was idling, and Slash was standing by my car, studying it. He wore a pair of jeans and a black shirt, along with his leather cut. I wondered how many clothes he owned and where he kept them.
He arched a brow.
I swallowed the last bit of toast. “You really expect a pregnant woman to wait for food?”
“No. No, I don’t.” Slash smiled and then tugged me into his arms.
I sighed against his chest.
“Morning,” he greeted.
“Morning.”
“Feeling okay?” he asked.
“I had my first bout of morning sickness,” I admitted. “Hence the toast.”
