That memory is the worst. Mildly humiliating, too. “Of course. You didn’t take anything I said seriously.”
“Who takes that kind of praise seriously? I thought it was sweet, but you were drunk.” She tilts her head. “Why didn’t you try to tell me the truth later?”
“Because the whole thing was stupid, and I didn’t think it would come back to bite me like this. It’s a bit annoying when you tell me to stop after three drinks, but it isn’t like I have to drink. It was more important you didn’t think I was an idiot.” The moment the admission leaves my mouth, I press my lips together. I didn’t mean to say quite this much. But Evie has the power to strip me down, make me feel vulnerable and exposed, the way nobody else ever has before. It’s as though my subconscious knows she won’t trample on me or break my trust.
“I think it’s kind of adorable. I won’t think badly of you. You’re brilliant.” She smiles, then kisses me. “We should do something else now.”
“Like what?” I ask, wondering if she wants to talk about the baby. Pregnant women care about that kind of things, don’t they? Maybe she wants to make a list of names she likes. We should decide on it before Barron decides for us. He’ll probably want us to name the child after him.
“You didn’t see just missionary in the statue, did you?” A naughty gleam sparks in her eyes.
My body reacts instantly, my cock going hard. “No, but maybe we shouldn’t do too much. You’re pregnant, and we need to be careful until you get checked out by an obstetrician.”
She frowns. “You think?”
“Yeah. Definitely. A baby is a serious business. It’s better these days, but women used to die all the time.”
“You’re so morbid.” Her tone is surprisingly gentle.
“It’s just that I’m involved with health care. I know a lot about it, including its history. Even today, things can go wrong.” The hospitals and clinics my family funds treat so many cases like that. They’re heartbreaking, and I can’t let anything happen to Evie or our baby. “Besides, you fainted this afternoon. You don’t know what it did to me to see you just collapse like that.” I put a hand over my chest. “Unless you want to take a decade off my life, don’t do it again.”
“I’ll try not to.” She sighs. “As for the other fun stuff, I guess we can ration it out.”
“Yes. Trust me, this is frustrating my dick more than it’s frustrating you.”
That makes her laugh, as intended. “But only until tomorrow. I’m definitely going to see my doctor, no matter what kind of bribe I need to offer.”
* * *
Nate
Some random sound pricks me awake. I open my eyes, listening and wondering what time it is. The bedside clock says it’s barely three. Evie’s sleeping, curled next to me. She breathes so quietly that it takes me a moment to realize she really is inhaling and exhaling.
Another bump outside. Tension grips my body. The security system in my house is top of the line. It shouldn’t let intruders in.
No. Wait. Is that Mari out in the hall? She might need something. I should go check, make sure she doesn’t trip and hurt herself in the unfamiliar space.
I slip out of bed and put on a robe from the closet before padding downstairs. There. She’s standing in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. Her gray hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. There’s something about her that’s tough, but fair and down to earth. Honest. It’s obvious Evie took after her mom a lot. Then I note the threadbare pea-green pajamas on her thin frame and make a mental note to get her something nice and luxurious.
“Mari, you finding everything you need?”
She slowly turns her head toward me. “Yes.”
No smile. A small frown forming. Okay. She’s the disapproving mother-in-law. I thought it was the fathers-in-law who didn’t care for their daughters’ choice of husbands. On the other hand, I shouldn’t stereotype. Just look at Court’s mom.
I should get everything out in the open, smooth over whatever issues she has with me. I want Evie happy, and getting along with her mom is going to be a factor. “You know, we didn’t get to talk at all, even at the party. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”
“I’m wondering what’s going on with my daughter. She’s not the impulsive type.”
I laugh. “Tell me about it.”
“And yet I had to learn about her wedding from a gossipy neighbor. It’s clear Evie married you out of impulse—or maybe because she’s pregnant. And obviously it’s been stressful. She passed out at the party.”
“Yeah. I feel terrible about that. I should’ve been more attentive.” For a second I debate telling her we were likely already married when we got ourselves pregnant, but decide against it. That would sound even worse, especially if she ever learns that we don’t remember either the wedding ceremony or the wedding night.
“I care about Evie very much,” I say instead. “I respect her brain, admire her beauty and love that she’s hardworking and honest. I plan to make her happy.” And I mean that. Every time I make her smile, I feel like the most accomplished man ever.
Mari’s expression doesn’t change. “The scariest man of all is the earnest jerk. They hit you when you least expect it.”