less foreign to me. I couldn't remember anyone gathering me up and tucking me into bed before. No one had ever held me through a night not punctuated by sex of some sort. No one had ever held me like I was important enough for them to hold on.
The daffy part of this was I'd slept through most of it. I was a light, fitful, somewhat insomniac sleeper though I barely remembered him stripping me down or settling me beneath the blankets. It was as though my mind and body knew to trust Ash, knew we were safe here with him, and we didn't need to be on guard all the time.
"You must stop agonizing over last night," I said.
"I'm not agonizing. I'm stating I want an evening with you without the interruption of clients or sisters." He grabbed the back of my chair, spun it toward him. He flicked a hand toward the documents. "Put that down. Come here."
"You can wait a second." I swiveled back to the desk, taking care to set the papers I'd sorted on one side and those still in a garbled mess on the other. I did not want to start this process all over. That, and waiting was good for Ash. It gave him something new to growl about and took his mind off everything else.
When I was ready, I pushed out of the chair and into his waiting arms. He kissed my hair like always and held me tight, exhaling softly as if this contact came as a relief. It was a relief to me too. His touch had put me at ease since he fell asleep on my shoulder and all the fear and anxiety I'd accumulated in my break from Denver and its associated parts hushed.
I chose to accept this about us rather than analyze it. Nothing good could come of me annotating the reasons I'd thoroughly melted into this man's life nor him into the new construct I called my life.
"I already know you can hold your own with my mother and Mag but don't let either of them pump you for information." He skimmed his hand down my spine and under the thin cotton of my sweater to rest on the small of my back. "They'll ask lots of nice, innocent questions and then they'll be back at my apartment, taking measurements of the guest room to turn it into a nursery."
"Don't be obtuse. They'd require us to move out of the city first. Somewhere with room to grow."
He made a deep, raspy sound in agreement that I felt as much as I heard. "At least two bedrooms for the babies. Maybe three."
"Why stop at three when you could have four?" I joked.
Another rasp, another growl, and then a hand clamped on my hip. "Why ask that question when I'm not inside you?"
There wasn't a single earthly reason to find that comment arousing. I was starting my life over, inventing a new way for myself and putting my pieces back together all at once, and the last thing in the world I needed was an eager pair of ovaries egging me on. And yet— "Because it'll give you something to ponder between now and when you come find me."
And to be sure, none of this was real. There were no babies, no nurseries, nothing more than a truly unsafe-for-work conversation between people who felt better when they touched.
"Oh my god." Ash ducked his head to my neck, his lips and teeth connecting with my skin as if he intended to mark it. "It's like you're asking me to fuck you in a dressing room."
Since I really enjoyed some virile male swagger and was guaranteed a special kind of sex monster in bed with me tonight, I said, "Identify the problem in that for me."
"God, Zelda." He shifted his hand to my ass, jerked me up against his body hard enough to acquaint me with his erection. "I don't know what you think you're doing right now."
"Nothing you don't want."
"Fuck me if that isn't the truth," he murmured to my cheek.
"Your mother will be here any minute."
He rolled his hips, groaning as he palmed my jaw to kiss me. "Don't you dare let them put you in anything that isn't, you know, Zelda."
Since this wasn't the moment for button pushing, I kissed the corner of his mouth and said, "I won't."
"And don't accept any candy from my mother," he added. "She never remembers to mention her candy is the