Page 63 of Fair Trade
Luisa bites her lip pensively, and I force myself to keep things PG for tonight. Especially since it’s late and in the aftermath of recent events, my body is begging for sleep.
Luisa’s phone lights up with a reminder that says “BC.” She catches me staring and answers the question floating in mymind. “It’s my birth control reminder. But I took it before I got into bed.”
“Interesting.” I rub alongside my jaw in an attempt to hide my grin.
Luisa rolls her eyes, clearly not impressed with my knee-jerk reaction. “Don’t get any ideas, Loverboy. I’ve been on birth control since I was in high school to help regulate my periods because I have PCOS. And I don’t know why I’m even telling you this. Good night.” She turns off her bedside lamp, and I immediately turn it back on. I swear I hear her mutter something about this being the worst sleepover ever.
“Is PCOS the reason you have tough periods? Is there a medication you can take for that?”
“Ugh, stupid me for answering those emails while enjoying a little pinot noir.” She pulls the covers over her face, and, of course, I pull them back down.
“C’mon, tell me. Is there something I can do to help?”
“You really want to know? You don’t think it’s gross to talk about these… lady things? Most guys I’ve dated have preferred to steer clear of the topic of my period altogether.”
“It’d suit you well to never mention any of your exes while you lie in our bed with my ring on your finger.” Her eyes widen, and if I’m not mistaken, flash with heat at the sudden edge in my tone. “And please don’t insult me by comparing a man to boys who are afraid of knowing and worshipping a woman’s body. So yes, I really want to know. And heads-up: tomorrow I’ll probably research the topic on my own and call up a few specialists to see what else we can do to help you feel better.”
She shakes her head. “No, you really don’t need to do all of that. My new doctor is great, and while PCOS does make my periods irregular, this current birth control I’m on has me on somewhat of a set schedule, even though it’s still not perfect. I do have a bit of an iron deficiency that I need to keep an eye on, butI take iron pills for that. And if I eat a low glycemic index diet, the worst of the symptoms are manageable. That doesn’t mean I don’t indulge in sweets and comfort food when I’m feeling crummy; it’s just something I need to be mindful of.”
She continues. “I actually like working out, and weightlifting is great for PCOS. Honestly, it’s not that bad, I swear. It could be worse. I’m lucky that the pain is never excruciating. That can happen sometimes; I know it does with some of my cousins who have PCOS and endometriosis. It’s not a walk in the park, but I make sure to stay on top of it so it doesn’t interrupt my work or daily life.” She shrugs one shoulder.
I nod, taking it all in. I’m still calling the specialist first thing in the morning. And researching the type of meals I should be cooking for her. Or having sent to her office since I know she has a habit of skipping lunch when she’s in back-to-back meetings.
“Okay, I’ve given you more than enough information on my uterus, so can I go to sleep now? Jeez, marrying you is exhausting.” She smiles slightly as she drops her arms on the bedding, causing Delilah to bark and wiggle her tail with a rhythmic thump.
I’m actually surprised that Luisa shared as much as she did without much pushback, so I concede and make my way over to my side of the bed.
The trek over makes me feel like I’ll actually be sleeping a bit farther than I hoped from my Angel, but there is no point pouting about it now.
I slide into the bed, pulling the covers over myself, right as Delilah becomes Luisa’s little spoon. Her paws rest on the left side of my body.
“Looking comfy over there, Stonehaven.” I can hear the smile in Luisa’s tone as I close my eyes.
“Sweet dreams, Mrs. Stonehaven.” I place my hands over my stomach, but don’t hide my grin.
I hear a soft intake of breath and smile wider.
Mrs. Stonehaven. I like the sound of that. I’ll have to make sure my attorney files the appropriate paperwork to have her name changed. But knowing Luisa, she’d sooner call herself the devil’s mistress than Mrs. Stonehaven. Whitewashing herself while losing the name she helped build for herself? There’s no way.
And to be honest, aside from the pride I have over what I’ve created with Stonehaven Media, I’m not too fond of the name that connects me with my father’s side of the family.
Hell, by the way she has me whipped, I might be calling myself Mr. Álvarez by the end of the week.
The pleasant thought helps lull me into a peaceful slumber.
For only a second, since Delilah decides that now is the time to get the zoomies and keeps scratching me with her sharp nails.
“Delilah, no. Stop it. Right now—”
With a hard double kick, I’m sent rolling off the bed and onto the carpeted bedroom floor.
I can hear Luisa’s gasp a second before her head pops over my side of the bed and she spots me lying helplessly on the ground. Delilah’s head pops up next to hers, looking a little too innocent for my liking.
“You okay?” she asks, giggling.
“Peachy.”
“Aw. Well, look on the bright side, hubby. You got that romp in the sheets you were jonesing for after all.”
