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“It never stopped you before.” I shake my head. “What’s really going on?”
She looks between Sophia and me and Sophia casts her a curious glance. “I don’t want to upset you, but I’m three months pregnant,” she says it with sadness. “I know you want kids a—”
“I have come to grips that I will never have children, and I’m okay with it.” I think I am anyway. I swallow the lump in my throat. Plus, I’m not going to try to convince Jasper of something he doesn’t want, if I were to get pregnant by a guy, I want him to want children. Unfortunately, that will never happen because I married who I married. I have no one to blame but myself. “I’m happy for you,” I finally say with nothing but honesty. Because I really am. Both Lacey and Lake are pregnant, there must be something in the air. “Congratulations.”
She starts to cry, and I wipe her tears with the pads of my fingers. “I’m not ready to be a mother yet, I have so much to accomplish in my career, so much to do. And we were careful. I took my pills every single day.”
“It’s going to be okay.” I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “How does Atlas feel about it?”
“He’s thrilled. He’s already picking out baby names and has already bought some gender-neutral clothes.”
Sophia pats her on the back. “I know the feeling all too well much. It’s going to be okay. Once you have your baby, everything will change.” She sighs and leans back in the chair. “When I had Bailey, I had postpartum depression, but afterward I connected and bonded with her, and now I love her more than anything in the world. You will be fine, Lake. I promise.”
Lake nods and drinks her water.
“You two want to go dance?” I ask.
They both nod. Once we make it through the sea of people dancing on the rooftop, I grab Sophia and Lake by the arms and we shake our butts to a booty-shaking song. I feel someone grab me by the waist, and I quickly turn around, ready to punch the guy in the face, but I glance up and see chocolate eyes staring down at me. Jasper changed from the suit he wore earlier to a beige shirt and black dress pants. He’s hotter than the damn sun. I hope I can keep my hands off him tonight.
I had no idea he was going to show up.
I stand on my tippy-toes and shout over the music in his ear, “What are you doing here?”
He leans down and answers, “I’ve come to make sure no one dances with my wife.”
This is the first time he has acknowledged me as his wife without pretending it’s fake. I inhale a dose of his woodsy cologne. And the sight of him sends butterflies to my stomach. Jasper is so gorgeous, and I know everyone’s eyes are on him.
I like his jealous streak. It’s cute and makes me feel wanted.
And now I sound crazy for wanting my sexy husband to be territorial.
I push his brown hair to the side.“No one is dancing with me but Lake and Sophia.”
I turn to look at them, to find Atlas and Lake speaking before he drops a kiss on her forehead. Sophia made it to the bar, and she orders herself a plate of food. I glance back at Jasper and tell him, “You’re raining on my parade—it’s girls’ night.”
His laugh is music to my ears. “They will be okay. Dance with me, Angel.”
I shake my head. “We’re at a club, we don’t have to play as a happy couple.”
“I’m not trying to pretend. I want to hang out with you.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Believe it or not, I love spending time with you.”
His words make me blush, and I feel heat creeping up the back of my neck.
Since the day he showed me the restaurant his mother used to take him to, we became closer. Like friends, but then again, friends don’t look at you like you’re something to eat, and Jasper’s eyes are predatory, as if he’s ready to pounce on me. A slow love song comes on, and the timing can’t be any worse.
He places his hands on my hips as I sling my arms around his shoulders, and we move slowly to the beat. He stares into my eyes, his gaze intense.
What is he thinking about?
He suddenly stops to grab my hand and leads me to a private room, shutting the door and locking it after I step inside. He presses his lips against mine, sliding his fingers through my hair. The kiss we shared last time is so much different from this one. He claims my lips as if he’s been dying for my touch, then leaves light trails of kisses down my neck.
I don’t know what to make of it, but I’m enjoying him a lot more than I should, especially since my heart is telling me no. He hikes up the hem of my dress and slides my panties to the side, slipping his fingers inside me. I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders. My skin feels like a furnace.
“I want you, Poppy. I can’t fight what I want anymore.”
“Then don’t,” I moan.
“Fuck, Poppy. I didn’t bring any condoms.”
