Page 51 of First Comes Orc, Second Comes Baby
Brahnt gave her a look. “How about I run us a bath, and if you're not unconscious by the end of it, I'll accede to your request.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Brahnt stopped, eyes darkening, and gave Charlotte a long, long look. Then he turned and strode down the hallway to his bedroom.
Charlotte smirked, and sauntered after him.
Brahnt, of course, damn him, was right. By the time their bath was over, though Charlotte was horny as hell, she was too tired to even lay in bed and let Brahnt do all the work. Brahnt hauled her out of the tub, toweled her off and bundled her into a fluffy black robe. The lights shut off and they slid into bed.
That was when Charlotte realized she wasn't in her own bedroom, but in Brahnt's.
Slick Orc.
“Move into the bedroom with me,” Brahnt murmured, his arm slung across Charlotte as he held her close. “You're being ridiculous.”
“It's not ridiculous. The day we met we got pregnant, then we moved in together six weeks later. We haven't had an actual courtship.”
Charlotte had an urge to poke out her bottom lip, but that would be juvenile, so she suppressed it.
Brahnt propped himself up on his elbow, and she felt the Orc’s stare. “You're holding out on me because you feel like we skipped steps in the process?” The incredulity in Brahnt’s voice irritated her.
“Yes! What are we going to tell our children? We don't have a story.”
Charlotte knew she was whining, and yes, probably being ridiculous, but still. There was no second date or third date story. No tale of how they'd slowly fallen in love. Caro kept telling her there were steps. Drilling those steps into her head had been part of Charlotte’s therapy, so she could mentally check off when she was being love bombed or neglected—she’dworkedto raise her standards as far as how she expected to be treated.
“We do have a story,” Brahnt said. “We're living our story. It might not be neat and orderly like one of Caro’s books—”
“Are you really reading her stuff?”
Brahnt made a noncommittal noise. “Our courtship might not be neat and orderly, but it's still a courtship. I'm getting tired of going to sleep alone and waking up alone. What more do you want?”
The question wasn't delivered with anger or accusation, so Charlotte sighed. Brahnt was genuinely asking Charlotte to tell him what she needed.
Charlotte shifted, facing the Orc. “Fine.”
Brahnt grinned, then immediately wiped the expression off his face. “You're going to move into the bedroom with me?”
Charlotte indulged herself and finally poked out her bottom lip. She felt she'd earned it.
The Orc raised an eyebrow. “Now who's twelve?” He paused. “Why change your mind now?”
“Because I don’t want to overcorrect just because I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to not recognize the effort you’re putting in.”
Brahnt’s eyes softened. “As long as you don’t ignore pain points, you’ll be okay. If you feel like something is wrong, come to me and we’ll talk. I’m not perfect, and I may hurt you, but not on purpose.”
Charlotte leaned her head forward enough to capture his sensual mouth in a kiss. She ended up on her back a moment later, though Brahnt lifted his head and sighed.
“Now that’s settled, we can move on to the next hurdle.”
“You have an internal checklist or something? What’s the next hurdle? Finding maternity pants that don’t look like they were hand sewn by a Mormon soccer mom? I mean, have you seen the options at Target? Baby, wouldn’t be caught dead.”
“Meeting my parents.”
“Oh. . .well, how bad can it be, all joking aside. I’m sure it will be great.”
16
“Areyou sure we aren’t supposed to bring a casserole or something?” Charlotte said, redoing her ponytail. “We can pick one up from Whole Foods on the way. I asked my sister, and she said good housekeeping, whatever that is, said—”
