Page 89 of Pipe Dreams
“Maybe you do,” Lauren suggested softly.
He groaned. “I’ll call tomorrow. I feel like a shit dad all the time. Shelly did all these things as a full-time job, you know? She also needs braces, probably.”
“In three weeks you’ll be available full time for her.”
“Three weeks, huh?” He gave her ass a friendly squeeze. “You’re taking us to the finals in your little calculation. That’s a jinx, missy.”
“You can blame me if it all goes wrong in game seven.”
They fell silent for another moment. His hand trailed down her ribcage, then onto her tummy. He pressed his palmagainst her lower abdomen, then rubbed gently. She closed her eyes and sank into the sensation.
“What’s the countdown now?”
“On?”
“Our secret project. When am I allowed to ask how it’s going?”
“You’re asking right now. That’s against the rules. The ref just gave you a two-minute bench minor.”
“So I can ask in two minutes?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughed into her hair.
“Give me a week at least.”
“That’s too long.”
“Mike!”
“You want me to stop asking? Come up here and shut me up, then.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her body onto his, and then kissed her.
She relaxed onto his big frame, like a cat taking up residence on its favorite lap. He obviously didn’t understand her reluctance to speculate about a pregnancy. He was so sure it would succeed, and she was somehow positive it wouldn’t.
And if it didn’t... then what? Would he still be here in her bed thinking optimistic thoughts?
His long fingers threaded through her hair. “I’m so tired. Kiss me again before I fall asleep.”
What was the saying? It takes fewer muscles to smile than to stay up all night worrying about the future. So she kissed the man again as he closed his eyes.
TWENTY-FIVE
Beacon woke to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm tone.
Beside him, Lauren cursed and fumbled for her Katt Phone, silencing it. Then she snuggled closer to him, her back to his chest.
He tugged her little body closer to his, then wrapped an arm around her waist, letting his fingers drift on a slow tour of her body. She was wearing a gloriously skimpy nighty. He smoothed the silk down her belly, then lifted the hem to palm her bare belly.
When he’d showed up at Lauren’s door last night, it hadn’t been for sex. He’d needed to lie in the dark with someone who loved him. When they were together, she had always been a steadying force in his life. Hell—she was a steadying force before they ever held each other in bed, or even kissed for the first time.
His wife... wasn’t. Shelly had been attracted to him once. But the whole hockey wife thing had worn thin for her when Elsa was still a toddler. She was angry at her lot in life, and she felt free to take it out on him. When theyargued over anything, she would remind him that he was just a “dumb jock.”
He felt like one, too, every time she said it.
Last night he’d taken a cab to Lauren’s place after losing a big game. Then he’d proceeded to admit that he didn’t have a clue what to say to his own kid. Yet Lauren didn’t pander or praise him. Neither did she judge him. She just held him instead.
Slowly, he dragged his fingertips between her hip bones, discovering that she was not wearing panties. This revelation caused him to let out a shameless little moan, and he wasn’t even embarrassed.
