Page 40 of Wrong Number, Right Lion

“Should we put them here?” We were standing out back, the lilies in a bucket on the ground in front of the garden we’d originally thought of as their new home.

“I think so. Or we could put some out front?” Gardening was not my forte.

“Well, the good thing about lilies is they get overcrowded very quickly. We could put them here, and then next year, we’ll probably have some to put out front. Or maybe the year after.” That took the pressure off for sure.

We decided on that and spent the afternoon planting them, telling Princess not to worry—she was still our favorite.

“I was thinking…” My mate’s words trailed off.

“That’s pretty dangerous,” I teased.

He smirked. “Har, Har. Hear me out. What if we build an addition in the back off the kitchen? Not really a three-season porch, but one for year-round? We could put a little breakfast table there and a play area for our cub.”

Gods, I loved it when he referred to our child as our cub. It reminded me that he truly accepted who I was and who our baby may or may not be.

“I was thinking that, too, only my version had a deck off the back.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” We planted the lillies and discussed a ton of options for how the addition might or might not go.

He took my hand. “But before we start planning this too seriously, I’ve got an even better idea.” Mischief danced in his eyes.

“Oh? And what’s this better idea?”

“Well, the first thing we need to do is go in the house…” He licked his bottom lip.

“And then?”

“And then you need to strip me naked.”

I grinned. “Okay, I like where this is going. And then what?”

He brought his lips to my ear and whispered every single delicious thing he wanted me to do to him. “What do you think?”

I swallowed hard. “What do I think? I think that’s a whole lot better than spending the day out here trying to come up with addition plans, that’s for sure.”

“Me too,” he murmured, tugging me toward the door. “Me too.”

21

ARLO

“We don’t have anything planned for today, do we?”

I was curled up in bed, cocooned by the thick quilt. During the week, I had to front up to the computer and slog into the office once a week. But today was Sunday, and other than going to the bathroom, I was staying put.

“Nope, but there’s not much left of the day.”

What? No, that couldn’t be. It was mid-morning ‘cause I’d checked the phone a few minutes ago. “You’re jerking me around.”

“No, but I can give you a blow job if you want.”

“Maybe later.” I needed more sleep, and when I looked at the time, it was three. In the afternoon. What had I been doing in the intervening five hours? Sleeping, I assumed.

“I thought I’d treat you to something special.”

I adored my mate, and he looked after me, anticipating my needs, giving me foot massages, and buying me “how far the pregnancy had progressed” gifts each week. But he was more ofan extrovert than I was. I enjoyed being at home, and though I wasn’t close to the end of my forty weeks, I was exhausted, and bed was where I wanted to be, with Kalen beside me.

“Can I have a rain check?”

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