Page 34 of All At Once

“You just remember that. Oh, holy hell.” He cringed as realization worked over him. “Damn it, Cait, that’s going to be the rumor Aviles runs with. He knows I had a vasectomy because Taylor has a big mouth. He’ll be whispering all over the office that Ransome is the father.”

“It’ll blow over, and his credibility is nil with anyone who matters.” She rolled a shoulder in her elegant shrug. “Thank you for planning to be home more.”

That punch-to-the-gut landed once more, and he grimaced. “Know how much it sucks to hear that from you?”

“We don’t lie to one another.” Another sip and she set her goblet aside, fixing him with a direct look. “Why start now?”

He lifted a hand in acknowledgement. She wouldn’t browbeat him with it, and she’d give him the grace to move forward. He’d accept that grace, and, well, a guy could only say he’d do better so many times.

A grin quirked at his lips. Actions spoke one hell of a lot more loudly. He caressed her pulse point again, leaning forward. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

A whole different emotion flared hot in her eyes, and his belly experienced that low tug again. She wrinkled her nose. “Think you’re that good, do you?”

He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to that sweetly thudding pulse. “I think the word you used was stupendous.”

“Well, then.” She disentangled from his hold as Luca approached with their entrees. “I’m prepared to be awed, tesoro.”

The arched brow told him she’d make him work for it, too, but he could think of worse ways to expend his work ethic.

They didn’t touch on this new pregnancy while they ate, and he got it — even though she was a day ahead of him, he continued trying to get his head around the idea, part of him pleased and feeling blessed, a more objective part of his brain stunned at the logistical shift in their lives.

Three kids.

Relaxed and more centered, he opened the front door for them, lavender and bergamot washing over him. While she chatted with the UH student who often babysat for them — although they didn’t call it that because Eleanor got her feathers ruffled at the term, but still he’d been the fifteen-year-old charged with younger siblings and they weren’t doing that — he leashed up Zeb and took his still-energetic dog to stretch his legs, letting him meander longer than normal. He kind of needed the dog worn out and the kids asleep tonight.

Back home, he locked up and looked in on both girls, Eva curled into a tight ball with her stuffed elephant and Eleanor sprawled across her bed, snoring softly, biology text and notes on the floor. In the hallway, Zeb laid his head on his paws and sighed, lids drooping. Tick grinned and clucked his tongue. “Good boy.”

Then he went in search of his wife.

He didn’t have to look far, striding down the hall to their bedroom. Closing the door, he toed out of his shoes and stripped off his jacket. Barefoot and with her cardigan discarded, she folded back the duvet and sheet, casting a glance at him beneath her lashes. “Are you simply leaving those there?”

“Yep.” He tossed his jacket on the armchair and unfastened his cuffs, then his shirt, jerking it over his head once he hit the third button. “Lose the pants.”

“Eager, aren’t you?” That beautiful smile curved her lips, and he shook his head. He’d make her eat those words, for damn sure. Her gaze dipping over him, she tilted her chin, a familiar challenging angle. “What if I want you to take them off me?”

“I can oblige you, precious.” He unbuckled his belt and shucked his slacks, getting his socks along the way, aware of those green eyes on him the whole time. Sweet Jesus, he loved the way she looked at him when she wanted him.

He strolled across the bedroom and hooked his index finger in her waistband, stroking his thumb over the smooth surface of the button. Her stomach trembled against his knuckle with her indrawn breath, and his grin widened when her eyes darkened.

With his other hand, he flicked a barely-there camisole strap down her arm. “Suppose I get to take this off, too?”

Her lashes fluttered down over a wry smile. “Of course.”

A laugh rumbled from his chest, and he slipped the button free before lowering the zipper. Folding his fingers in the waistband, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “Undressing you is better than Christmas.”

Her laughter vibrated against his fingers, and he eased the clingy fabric down, going to his knees before her as he smoothed the garment over her thighs to pool at her feet, grasping one delicate ankle, then the other. He slung the fabric to one side, then traced his fingertip over the fine bones of her ankle, trailing up her calf to her knee. Pausing there, he circled just outside her ticklish spot and grinned up at her.

“Don’t.” Her voice breathless, she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You won’t be saying that in a few minutes.” He continued the caress up her thigh until he met a scrap of black silk. He skated a touch over the secrets beneath that silk, and she shifted her hand, tangling her fingers in his hair. Pressing a kiss to her thigh, those muscles trembling under his mouth, he spread his other hand over her lower belly and dropped a kiss there as well. “How far along are you?”

“About seven weeks.” She sifted through his hair, and he raised his head to meet her gaze.

“Athens.” The memory flashed in his head, being wrapped around her before his phone rang, Colt’s shattered voice on the other end, and everything going to hell. And the past few days, he'd felt almost normal, almost himself again, close to who he’d been that night before that call. Tonight, the tension gone and his head on straight, her skin under his hands, he was himself, and hope burned in him, tightening his chest.

“Possibly.” She was breathy, huskier than normal, emotion and desire twining in the syllables.

He slipped a finger beneath the edge of her panties, skimming easy caresses over her, and above him, her breathing shortened, quickened. Just the sound of her reacting to him, wanting him, made him hard. Pushing to his feet, he gripped the hem of her camisole and took it with him, pulling it over her head and tossing it behind him so she stood before him in nothing more than a small strip of black silk, a fine gold chain bearing a gold circle, and his rings.