I was being overly needy and hormonal. I refused to be clingy and beg him to come back into bed. I would not be that woman. I wouldn’t make him pay for the sins others had committed against me in my past.
And yet the wounds that I’d thought long scabbed over felt torn open again and regularly salted until I felt like a neurotic mess. Likely it was just the damn pregnancy hormones. It was like being on a damn rollercoaster of emotions, though, and I did not fucking appreciate it!
I wanted to be fun and easy-going and attractive. Not a bloated, occasionally sobby mess. Everything I’d ever wanted but never truly dreamt I could ever have was within my reach and I was terrified I’d somehow blow it without even meaning to.
But then there was Beau. With a touch, he could ground me again. Or make me laugh. And I’d come back to the present moment and be pulled out of my stupid brain cycling over every terrible scenario and for a moment, or an hour, feel at peace.
We were just finishing up one of those luxurious lunches—where Beau sternly eyed me until I finished my entire Cobb salad. Dark leafy greens, broccoli, and eggs were all big on the Pregnancy Diet plan he and Mrs. H had cooked up. I went along with it, as long as I was able to slather on liberal amounts of bacon ranch dressing. It was delicious, and Beau was trying to coax me into eating more blueberries—high in antioxidants—when Mrs. H came in with a big white box.
I pulled back from Beau trying to shove a blueberry in my mouth to look at Mrs. H. Then I looked to Beau. His face had gone pale. It had been so long since we’d had a Trial, and the last one had been so traumatic, I think more on him than on me, in the end.
“It’ll be fine,” I said, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand. “Just think of it as a chance to slap my ass in public.”
Mrs. H didn’t say anything, she just set the box on the table, then turned around and left again.
Beau frowned. “Was that ominous? She didn’t say a thing.”
I shook my head and whispered, “Shhh. She’s just always conscious there might be other ears around.”
He nodded, then slid the box closer and lifted the lid. His eyebrows drew together and now he looked really worried.
“What is it?” I asked.
He pulled out a long, silk, dark red robe.
I reached out and touched the soft, silky fabric. It slipped right through my fingers. “Sexy.” The robe even had a little hood on it.
“Maybe it’s a Red Riding Hood kink?” I suggested.
Beau nodded but didn’t look convinced. He grabbed his glass of lemonade and swigged it like it was bourbon before saying he needed to get back to work and that we should head back to the room.
He was on edge for the rest of the day. I watched more old movies to pass the time and tried to zone out. Beau was just being over-protective like always. I was choosing to consider the fact that they’d actually given me any clothing at all this time as a good thing.
Even if, after I’d showered and gotten ready for the evening, then stripped down and put on the sheer robe, it all but felt as if I was wearing nothing at all anyway.
The material fell down my back in a sheer rush of silken fabric. But the front of the robe… well, that was a different story. The silk did nothing to hide my peaked nipples. Instead, it accentuated them, almost to a pornographic extent. If it really was a Red Riding Hood kink, they’d hit the nail on the head.
Beau was silent and brooding as he got dressed.
I squeezed his hand as we got ready to go downstairs. “Hey. We got this. There’s nothing to be scared of. I got your back and you got mine, yeah?”
He let out a loud rush of air before nodding firmly. He lifted our clasped hands and kissed the back of mine. “Yes. Always.”
And then downstairs we went.
I was hoping for an orgy situation. Sure, some bastards might try to cop a feel, but I knew Beau would be his normal protective self and keep me safe.
When we walked into the white ballroom, however, I realized there would be no such luck.
I gulped when I saw a large, clear water tank with