Royal Mess - Winter Travers Page 0,24

for her and the baby. She had only eaten half of her dinner tonight and had passed on dessert.

I climbed the stairs, and she didn’t even stir when I bumped open her bedroom door with my hip. I moved to the bed and leaned over to lay her down.

“No,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.” Her arms tightened around my neck, and she clung to me.

“It’s okay, Royal,” I whispered back.

“Don’t leave,” she repeated.

“Beautiful, I’m not leaving you.”

She sighed lightly but didn’t move her arms from around my neck.

I was awkwardly bent over the bed with Royal clinging to me. I tried to move her arms from around my neck, but she wouldn’t budge.

If I called for help from Murphy or Princeton, I would wake her up. I didn’t want to do that.

Shit.

I would just have to lie with her until she loosened her hold on me.

I lifted her up again, set her further on the bed, and managed to lie down with her. This wasn’t the most comfortable position, but I had to admit it was nice to have her in my arms.

Just a few minutes and then I would be able to maneuver my way back to my room.

“Don’t leave,” Royal whispered again.

She had to be talking in her sleep, though I had to wonder what she was dreaming about since she kept repeating don’t leave.

There was so much I didn’t know about Royal.

One thing I was learning right now was her body fit perfectly against mine. Even being nine months pregnant.

The fact she was pregnant should have made me run for the hills, but it didn’t. I not only wanted to protect her, I wanted to make sure the baby was safe.

They both needed someone to be there for them, and deep down, I wanted to be that man.

The problem was, Royal didn’t even want to be in the same room as me unless she was sleeping.

I needed to figure out how to change that, but I didn’t even know where to start.

She whimpered in her sleep and then sighed.

Maybe this was my in.

I was her punching bag before, and now, I was her pillow. She may be unconscious, but it was an upgrade.

Baby steps.

*

Chapter Nine

Royal

“He was in my bed, Bristol.”

Bristol turned from the stove. “What are you talking about?”

I held my coffee cup in both hands and sighed. “I woke up this morning and Marco was there.”

“In your bed?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Naked?”

“What?” I gasped. I looked around to make sure no one was around to hear us. “Of course, he wasn’t naked.”

Bristol turned back to the stove. “Well, you said he was in your bed. I guess I just jumped to him being naked with you.”

“I wasn’t naked either. I was still in my clothes from yesterday.”

“So how did he get into your bed?” she asked.

That, I didn’t know. The last thing I had remembered was watching Golden Girls and listening to Greer and Bristol giggle about Meg and Alice stories.

“I don’t know. How did you get to bed?” I asked.

Bristol shook her head. “I didn’t. I woke up in the recliner.”

I frowned. “Then I should have woken up on the couch.”

“So what happened when you woke up and he was in your bed?”

I took a sip of my coffee. “Well, I asked him what the hell he was doing in my bed.”

“What did he say?”

I sighed. “He told me I wouldn’t let him go and he must have fallen asleep before I let him go.”

Bristol’s jaw dropped. “Say what? Were you sleepwalking or something?”

I didn’t have a damn clue. “Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead, slipped out of bed, and went to his room.”

Bristol moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“I think it’s a little early for that,” I drawled.

Bristol held up the bottle and shook her head. “I’m not planning on drinking it. I was making sure I bought you non-alcoholic wine. You had three glasses of it, but you shouldn’t have gotten tipsy enough to fall into bed with Marco.” She put it back in the fridge. “No booze in it.”

I put my head in my hands and sighed.

“What’s with the long face?” Greer called. She breezed into the kitchen looking like she had slept for twenty hours, refreshed and ready for the day.

I groaned. I wished I could look as put together and classy as she did. Right now, I was a beached whale ready to pop who was trying to figure out what I was feeling.

Bristol