Page 44 of Fear the Reaper
“Well, she’s still in the system, right?”
“She is.”
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Sofía Muñoz.”
“Do you think I could be her mom?” I asked.
“Star, I’m going to need you to be serious about this.” Reaper spoke. “Sofía has had too many set backs with this whole adoption thing. People hear about what she’s been through and they walk away. They fear she’s damaged.”
“What happened to her parents in Columbia anyway?”
“They were murdered. So, she’s had some hard times.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you ready to be a father?”
“I’ve been ready. I just didn’t think it was in the cards for me. We have to get a few things in line first—we can’t be living in a hotel when we contact them about her. And I can’t be living in Climax, Saskatchewan.”
I chuckled. “True. I have to find a new job. I can’t keep doing this job anymore. Especially if I want to be a mom to this little one. Being an investigative journalist was a good gig but I can’t keep putting myself at risk—the cost is too high.”
I eased back to look up into his eyes.
“If I want a job, Star, I have it.” Reaper shifted slightly. “Montana has offered me a job and I’m pretty sure it’s still on the table. But I don’t really require a job.”
“How do you figure? I’m too young to be a sugar momma.”
Reaper laughed softly. “And I’m too old to be a sugar baby. My father was the owner of Forge Industries.”
“The mining company?” I asked. “Your father was Gavin Forge?”
He nodded. “After his death I inherited everything.”
I sat up and curled my legs. He shifted up to press his back against the headboard but I knew he wasn’t looking into my eyes. He was staring at my breasts for a silent moment before lifting a hand to play with one of my nipples.
“I can’t think when you touch me,” I admitted. “But, I still need to find work.”
“Star, I thought you said you wanted to write a book.”
“Yeah.”
“Then follow the dream.”
“Reaper, I don’t want you taking care of me.” I frowned. “I’m not that kind of woman.”
“Don’t look at it like that. There are so many things you can do with your education and your drive.” He scooted forward to curl his legs before him and draw me into his lap. “This isn’t about pride. This is about a man wanting his woman to be herself, to do what makes her happy.”
“Writing does make me happy.”
“See?” Reaper smiled.
I nipped at his shoulder then caressed a hand down his arm. “You still haven’t told me what you wanted in payment for helping me.”
He smirked. “How much time do I have to figure it out?”
“Forever, if you want it.”
“I do.” Reaper whispered as though he couldn’t believe how true those two words had been. “I do.”
