Page 47 of When Love Found Us
And fuck—she doesn’t pull away.
And I don’t let go.
Not yet.
For some reason, I can’t understand why I need this. It settles me in a way I never expected, just like it confuses me the only way Blythe can since I met her at the coffee shop.
The next morning,I wake up in the guest room.
It wasn’t the plan to let her stay in my apartment—or to give her my bed. However, after a couple of times of Blythe running back and forth to the bathroom, it just made sense. I didn’t want her to be alone while she had to deal with her stomach issues.
Morning sickness? Fucking lie.
There was nothing morning about it. It dragged her out of bed every few minutes, pulling me right along with it. Maybe it wasn’t that often, but it sure as fuck felt like it.
I rub a hand over my face, exhaling before pushing myself up. I’m exhausted, but lying here won’t do shit.
I head to the kitchen, already pulling out the basics—bread, eggs, and avocado.
Something tells me that if I don’t step in, she’ll keep living off crackers and whatever else she manages to grab when I remind her she has to eat.
Before I can start, I grab my wireless earbuds, slipping them on, and call Sanford.
“This better be good, or I swear I’m going to kill you,” he answers, voice already impatient.
“Morning, sunshine,” I laugh.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“I need the concierge.”
There’s a pause. Then, “For what?”
“Clothes, shoes, whatever pregnant women need,” I say, shoving bread into the toaster. “And get me a list of good OBs nearby. I know we have Simone, but I want the best care for Blythe. I don’t care how much they cost—just make sure they’re the best.”
Another pause. “You playing house now?”
I don’t dignify that with an answer. “Just do it.”
“Simone is on the list of trusted doctors, Timberbridge,” he says with a warning voice. “I don’t care if you’re trying to woo this woman, but you’re not fucking breaking protocol. You get me?”
This isn’t a mission, and technically, I’m not working for him. I have to think about Blythe and the baby. “What if?—”
“She’ll be fine. Simone is one of the best,” he cuts me off. “If not, she wouldn’t be on the roster.”
“Would you trust Aerin’s care to her?” I have to bring up one of his significant others. If she were pregnant, what would he do?
“Yes, if this would keep her out of danger, I would. Now, if you prefer, I could move the two of you to Luna Harbor?—”
“No,” I cut him. “If we do, we’ll lose the trail, and this nightmare will never end.”
Sanford mutters something under his breath. “Glad we have an understanding. Anything else?”
“That’s it.” I hang up before I change my mind and move to Antarctica with Blythe.
By the time the toast pops up, I’ve got eggs in the pan, avocado sliced. I work on autopilot. Something about cooking has always helped clear my mind—maybe because it’s one of the few things in my life that follows a predictable pattern.
When everything’s ready, I plate the food, grab a bottle of water, and head to the bedroom to wake her up.
