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“Of course,” he says without shame. “How else would I know what you like, so I can make it appear in your life when you need it? To avoid suspicion, I usually dilute the gift, so it goes to more than you, which is why I’m kind of annoyed you’re not really friends with your colleagues. They get a lot of perks for working with you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and then gasp.
Everyone on my ward was recently gifted free samples of herbal teas — a lot of which were lemon and ginger, which is what I’d used to ease my morning sickness, when I was pregnant with Curty. Was that Quin’s doing? I thought it was one of those magical times it feels like the universe is giving you a sign of support. I was delighted to stock up for free when I learned I was expecting, in the bathroom at work, earlier that week.
My mind reels to all the times I’ve thanked the universe for throwing me a babysitter or a great deal on car repairs or some other thing I’ve needed right in a pickle. It seems that, maybe, I should have been thanking Quin.
I sigh softly and shake my head, as I smile at him. “You’re insanely fucking delicious. You know that?”
He blushes under the praise and shrugs. “Most women would be terrified by the intensity I’ve stalked you with, over the years.”
“Luckily, I’m not most women. I’myourwoman, so I think it’s flattering and helpful. Your brand of stalking makes me feel loved and taken care of.”
He smiles. “I was hoping it came across that way, but it’s been a fine line sometimes. It can be hard to believe myself on the right side of that line when someone as depraved as Lucius tells me I’ve taken something too far. I have to remind myself that he can’t understand my reasons. He knows I adore you, but he doesn’t know Curtus is mine, or that I’ll do what I have to for the good of my woman and child.”
“Children,” I correct him, resting my hand on my lower stomach.
His eyes sparkle, and his grin is immediate, though he keeps it from getting out of hand as he searches my face. “Really?”
“Yes,” I whisper, laughing a little. “Why would I lie about that? It’s the best thing to happen since I saw my new baby boy had red hair.”
Quin jumps from his chair and leaps about in his room, flapping his arms like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “I want to hug you.” He grabs a pillow from his bed and practically squeezes the stuffing from it.
“Well, I’m glad the pillow is taking the brunt of your over-enthusiastic cuddles, because I don’t need the little peanut shooting out of me like a fucking rocket. You can’t squeeze me that hard. Ever. You’ll break bones.”
He drops the pillow instantly. “I wouldn’t.”
I beam at his serious face. “I was kidding. Hug me as hard as you want. Just not until this shit is taken care of,” I reply, gesturing at my ankle bracelet and his watch. “How are things progressing?”
He looks me over and lets out a sigh that makes him appear very satisfied, indeed. “Things are moving right along, and I’m expecting some news later today that should help a lot — which is great, because now, I want to move up the timeline like a motherfucker,” he says stalking back and forth in his room, as his hooded eyes drink me in.
“Tell me what’s happening inside your body right now. I want to knoweverything.” He holds up his hands, to shush me, as I’m about to start. “Not the developmental nurse-speak textbook stuff. I read all the books last time, and I’ve been revising since Treehouse Week. I want to hear about you. What’s happening withyou, Kira? Changes, feelings, symptoms, worries — all of it. Give it to me.”
Breathing hard from the effect his obsessive demands have on my libido, I clear my throat. “I’m horny. All the time. No sickness yet, but I’m getting prepared as well as I can, and hopefully, it’ll be mild.” I show him my crossed fingers. “If I think too much about how everything will work, I start to freak out, so I’m avoiding—”
“What worries you most?” he asks.
“Besides the whole I’m-pregnant-with-a-man-I-can’t-touch-without-dying thing?” I laugh to keep myself from crying. “It’s probably mostly the issues around explaining things to Curty. It’ll all depend on our situation when the time comes to tell him — what I can say, what I can’t say… It’s going to be a complicated conversation.”
Quin nods. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll be there, to help deliver the truth as smoothly as I can for him.” He chews his lip a moment. “When he finds out you both belong to me, do you think he’ll be angrier at me for missing much of his childhood or for what I put his mom through?” he asks, sliding his hands into his back pockets as he starts pacing.
“I’m sure that seeing me happy will help, either way,” I say with a shrug. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Things could change.”
We both turn to Dusty’s main door, as the lock mechanism clicks, and it’s thrust open.
“Aha.” Thaddy declares, catching us in the act of talking. He checks the hallway and shuts the door. “I fucking knew it. Well, technically, Bo suspected, and I’m too curious to leave it alone, because that woman’s hunches are impeccable. You twoaretrying to fuck each other.”
Quin looks at me, and then delivers his younger brother a flat stare. “Yes.” He gestures between our distant positions on opposite sides of Dusty’s room. “Clearly, we’re doing our best to slot my penis into Kira’s vagina. Look at us go.” His words drip enough sarcasm to flood the room, and he raises his arms in a cheer. “Yay. We’re doing it, Kira.”
Thaddy lowers his accusatory finger and sighs. He looks down and takes a wary side-step away from Dusty’s dirty-laundry pile.
“What are you doing here, Thaddy?” Quin asks in a bored tone. “The grown-ups are trying to talk.” He gestures between me and himself again.
Thaddy pulls a packet of antiseptic wipes from his pocket and starts wiping down one of the chairs near Dusty’s table. “You want to talk like adults? Fine. We’ll talk. There’s zero reason for you two needing to chat, so this little meeting of yours is intentional. Also, Kira didn’t flinch when you mentioned putting your dick in her vagina” — he points to her face souring as he says it — “but she clearly doesn’t like others mentioning it.” He clears his throat and dips his head at me, as he blushes. “That was a test, Kira. Sorry for mentioning your unmentionables. It’s lovely to see my brother even talking with a woman, and especially a nice one such as yourself.”
He turns to Quin and grins. “I busted you, fair and square, you sly motherfucker. Tell me everything. When, where, what the actual fuck — and all the juicy in-between bits, you spicy, ginger stud,” he says, looking between us with his waggling eyebrows and cheeky, teasing grin.
“You always said the red hair kept the ladies away, but clearly orange is one of Kira’s favorite colors. She going to add you to her collection? One big ginger, one small? A matching set. Like a cute little family. Aww.” His jovial expression softens into something sweet. “You’d even pass as Curty’s dad more easily than Jack.”
