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“How do your legs feel?” he asks, preparing our toothbrushes.
“Like jelly,” I say sheepishly.
Nodding, he plops me on the counter so I can brush my teeth. After giving me a cup to rinse, he leads me back into the bedroom, where he lotions us both.
“Be right back.” He winks before going into my bathroom. I can hear him rummaging around, I assume to bring me my comb and wet brush. He does, but instead of handing them to me, he starts painstakingly parting my curls.
“I’m a little rusty,” he murmurs.
Shock makes me sit stone still, but that doesn’t prepare me for his next heartbreaking confession.
“Mommy never like the way the nurses did her hair. They were too rough. She had very curly hair, and they—except Angel’s mother—were always too rough with her hair. So she talked me through the process.” Sounding so solemn, he adds, “I wasn’t very good at first, but I was determined not to be the source of any more of her pain.”
“You’re doing great,” I tell him, turning to look at his deep concentration while he combs my hair, then plaits it in two long braids like I prefer.
Climbing into the bed while he puts my grooming tools away, I can’t help feeling awkward and exposed. This whole day, from the moment he showed up, kicking my door in, feels surreal.
His phone starts buzzing. He looks at it briefly, but instead of answering it, he turns it off.
“It could be important,” I tell him when he pulls me into the crook of his arm.
“Nothing in this world matters more than you right now,” he murmurs.
Heat burns behind my eyes, and I feel silly for wanting to believe any of this is real.
ChapterTwenty-One
Mathias
Nikkiand I sit out on the veranda with a view of the natural pool I had put in because she said she’d always wanted one.
“I’m glad you got your appetite back,” I tell her, watching her pretty lips wrapping around the chocolate croissant with relish.
She hums around the delectable pastry. “You keep feeding me all this good food. You know your girl loves to eat.” She pats the soft flesh of her tummy. I can’t help the way my dick jumps at her benign gesture. This girl doesn’t know what she’s doing and how she’s driving me crazy with her lush curves.
It’s still warm, though fall has made a solid showing the past few days. The campaign has a comfortable lead on my competitor. There’s nothing he can do at this point to eke out a win. I’d have to literally turn into a spree killer or a child molester to lose at this point.
“One day,” she muses, “I’m going to be able to show how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Th—Mathias.”
I hate the way she cuts off the nickname, but I can’t blame her after the way I cussed her out for using it. “You don’t have to do that, Nik.” Reaching out, I take her hand, not giving her a chance to pull back. Seeing there are still a couple of crumbs on her fingertips I leap forward, taking her pretty digits into my mouth one at a time. “And you don’t have to do anything to earn me. You already own me, little girl,” I say with my whole chest, watching her swallow and look away, shaking her head.
Pulling her hand away, she curls it beneath her heart. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t want to own you. I want what is freely given. I never had to make you do anything. Hell, I had to make you stop. I just thought you knew I’d never back you into a corner no matter how I felt.”
“And how do you feel?” I demand.
She gives me a chiding glance and remains silent. “Cautious,” she says eventually. I can tell that’s not the answer, but I understand.
“I see I have to work to earn your trust again.” I watch her reaction. Her fist curls into a tight ball.
“You wanted to get me pregnant. Like, why would you do that?” Her eyes are glassy; she waves away whatever she’s about to say.
“I know about the Plan B—what else is it, Nikki?” I look at her, a sick feeling curling in my gut.
“I had a Misoprostol implanted.” She hunches her shoulders, then looks back at me with an unflinching stare. “You left me no choice, trying to take mine away.” She furiously swipes a tear away. “I’m just starting my life, so I did what was best for me. You know how both my parents suffered. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to have kids.”
Sorrow eats at me. Not because she did it but because she didn’t trust me and had every right not to. I failed her that night and every night prior.
“I should have never let you think for a minute that I was going to divorce you.” I curse myself for allowing her a moment of doubt. “Hey,” I tell her, watching her curl into herself. She’s not even looking at me, her gaze firmly on the land and fields beyond like she can find answers to all that plagues us out in the distance. “Come here.”
