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“Or maybe a burger. Some chicken? Fish? Protein. I want protein. I think.”
“Protein,” he repeats. “That’s easy. I’ll order food.”
Of course it is. He lifts iron like it’s saving his ass, and the man eats my body weight in protein every day.
“Wait, no. Soup. Can you get me soup?”
“Of course.”
I yawn. “You’re tired?” he asks.
“Always.”
“Let’s get you to the bedroom.”
“How cliché.”
A spark flares in his eyes that makes my own heart beat faster.
“Cosette—”
I swallow and gather my nerves. “Yes?”
I can see him warring with himself. I’m not sure what it is he battles, but there’s a part of me that longs to know. Lyam and I may look like we’re night and day, opposites even. Entirely different from one another, but I know—deep down inside, we’re not all that different at all.
And maybe that’s what drew me to him to begin with.
The problem with knowing someone intimately is that there’s no place to hide. They see your deepest wounds, your deepest flaws, and the longings of your heart. It’s both a blessing and a curse.
“Food,” he says finally. “Then bed. You’re exhausted.”
And this is what he does. I know it. Lyam takes charge so he can protect. Because it’s the only way he knows to love.
I don’t argue or protest because my body begs me for both food and rest.
Lyam takes a cold bottle of water from the fridge and opens it, handing it to me. “Drink, Cosette. You’re coming down from an adrenaline rush. You need fuel and water and rest.”
Funny, those things sound actually amazing right now.
I look over at the couch. I just need to make it to that gorgeous, luxurious, amazing couch that’s as big as Canada and lay my weary self down. The bed seems far away.
“That couch looks beautiful.”
An oversized, L-shaped sectional wrapped in caramel-colored, buttery leather beckons to me. Accented with gorgeous throw pillows wrapped in silky fabric, it’s both functional and elegant.
With a swipe of his fingers, he makes a call while I head to the couch and stretch my weary body out on it.
“This is beautiful,” I say, my words slurred from exhaustion. Lyam’s by my side. My eyes feel so heavy. He lifts the top of a matching oversized ottoman.
“Oooh. It’s a storage thing?” I say on a yawn.
“Mhm.”
I watch him unfold a thick, luxuriously soft blanket and drape it over me.
“I had to become pregnant to see this side of you?” I ask in a low voice that sounds a lot more seductive than I planned. Lyam’s gaze shifts to mine. Wordlessly, he bends and kisses my forehead. Tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Smooths the blanket over me.
My belly warms and my protests melt.
